#wilderness study area

[rebeccathenaturalist]

It may seem unthinkable to us today, but once it was normal for the response to hearing a species was in danger of extinction to be "Let's go shoot a few before they're all gone!" This wasn't just among trophy hunters and wealthy collectors who felt entitled to acquire any species they wanted regardless of the impact, but biologists, museum curators, and other naturalists of varying sorts. Today conservationists and scientists have a much more enlightened and informed view of how to respond to a species' impending extinction, but this attitude has been hard-won over the past century.

Arthur Augustus Allen may not be as well-known as John James Audubon, but this ornithologist was incredibly instrumental in getting people to stop shooting rare birds with guns--and shoot them with cameras instead. As chairman of the American Ornithological Union's Committee on Bird Protection, he used his role to establish ethical resolutions that prohibited the taking of rare birds from the wild (in violation of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, no less) and emphasized the observation of live birds in the wild over killing more for preservation and study.

We would do well to emulate Allen's example. Today there are still greedy people who look at a forest and only see dollar signs, or whose only interest in an open area of wilderness is the mineral rights under the soil. They see a pair of antlers as a trophy (and leave the meat to rot), and consider any inconvenient animal like a gray wolf or prairie dog only fit to exterminate. Yet Allen is a symbol of resistance against the purely acquisitive, extractive approach to nature, and how education can change minds and hearts.

So to those of you working to inform the general public about the value of nature in its own right, and not just for what we can get out of it--keep up the great work! Arthur A. Allen certainly wasn't the only person who worked to get the word out about the need to protect dwindling species and their habitats, but I think his efforts deserve to be added to more popular knowledge of conservation.

[ohisms]

↪     𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 , updated .     (  a  collection  of  various  settings  meant  to  inspire  drabbles  or  be  used  as  prompts .   )

001.   the seaside ,  as the sun is setting .

002.   a cabin in the middle of the woods .

003.   a picket-fenced home in the suburbs .

004.   a dark bus stop lit only by street lights .

005.   a private jet miles high in the sky .

006.   a funhouse’s room of mirrors .

007.   an office building ,  bustling and busy .

008.   the back row of an empty movie theater .

009.   a run - down motel room .

010.   a loud house party on a suburban street .

011.   a university lecture hall during a class .

012.   the rooftop of a very tall building .

013.   a great ballroom during an elegant party .

014.   the back of a wailing ambulance .

015.   the wine cellar of a large mansion .

016.   behind the school’s gymnasium .

017.   a boisterous bonfire at the lakeside .

018.   an otherwise empty parking lot .

019.   the shady bar of a noisy , dark club .

020.  the grounds of an empty summer camp .

021.   a large hedge maze ,  easy to get lost in .

022.   a neglected or derelict treehouse .

023.   a spacious ,  light-filled meadow .

024.   an underground illegal fighting club .

025.   an abandoned scrapyard .

026.   a large penthouse overlooking the city .

027.    an apple orchard in the middle of spring .

028.   an empty playground with squeaky swings .

029.   an extravagant greenhouse .

030.   the base of a large waterfall .

031.    a spacious walk - in closet full of lovely clothes .

032.   a solemnly quiet hospital room .

033.   the dark depths of an abandoned mine .

034.   the deck of a fishing boat at night .

035.   the thick crowd of an audience at a show .

036.   a long ,  winding road .

037.   the scene of a violent crime .

038.   a fork in a hiking trail deep in the wilderness .

039.   a cramped dressing room .

040.   a dusty antiques shop full of relics .

041.   the street of an unfamiliar city at night .

042.   between the tall shelves of a thrifted book shop .

043.   a building abandoned during construction .

044.   a house without power or running water .

045.   a mysterious trail found in the woods .

046.   the back of a taxi stuck in traffic .

047.    the inside of an elevator that won’t move .

048.   fairgrounds during a large event  (or after hours) .

049.   a garden bountiful with flowers or produce .

050.   a childhood home or bedroom .

+   30  more  setting  prompts :    1 / 3 / 2024

051. the site of a horrible accident .

052. a closed pool , after everyone has left .

053. a home holding horrific memories .

054. by the side of a dangerously quick river .

055. a private hotel room .

056. a police station in the middle of the night .

057. a ferris wheel carriage under a sky of fireworks .

058. a lavish , invite - only party .

059. a public transit stop as rain is pouring down .

060. the back of a taxi going in the wrong direction .

061. the underworld .

062. a dusty , forgotten attic .

063. on the set of a television show or movie .

064. a lighthouse overlooking the raging sea .

065. in a post - apocalyptic bunker .

066. on a ship hundreds of miles from the nearest coast .

067. on the rooftop of a perilously tall building .

068. a tent pitched in the middle of the woods .

069. a crowded stadium during a football game .

070. the morgue during an identification .

071. an otherwise empty library during a late study session .

072. a place that feels familiar , yet you've never been here before .

073. a long hallway that seems to stretch on forever .

074. a signpost at the start of a hiking trail .

075. a bar or tavern bustling with life .

076. the dance floor of a masquerade ball .

077. inside of a car parked in a secluded area .

078. at the edge of a cliff overlooking a large lake .

079. inside a very old house with very old haunts .

080. the antiseptic interior of a space station .

[comingdownwithme]

is... is that a kate I see..? Can.... can we get information on her? I beg

Just gonna drop both Toby and Kate here to finish off the proxies- (Didn't include Tim or Brian since apparently they're not proxies but also because I haven't watched MH yet </3)

Anyways, there will be some descriptions of body horror (for Kate specifically) but it will be warned before each paragraph!

Kate the Chaser

Kate Milens was raised by the Woods for most of her life, growing up unafraid of the wilderness that grew beyond the walls of her childhood home. After a series of unfortunate events as she grew older though, and as her baser human instincts push her to run despite the ache of her injured and weary limbs, Kate found that there really was something to fear beyond the treeline. She could hear it speak, it's voice a cacophony that echoed around her- within the base of her own skull- offering her reprieve and a greater purpose if she would just give in.

[DESCRIPTIONS OF BODY HORROR FOR THIS PARAGRAPH] Woke up unable to recall anything that had happened before she first awoke and with a dull ache akin to the sting of a healing injury over every muscle and joint of her body. Found out later on that the skin over her jaw and nose had been flayed, fresh burns mark her limbs, and maggots had once burrowed into her very flesh. They're healed now thanks to him.

Gloves and hoodie are stolen from her victims, and her shirt, boots and jeans are what she had woken up in. She washes them the best she can in nearby rivers.

Good hunter and a decent cook. Usually provides food for both herself and Toby when she can.

White eyes! And they glow! Spooky! They give her pretty good night vision, but that leads her to being sensitive to light.

Despite the both of them being close proxies, Kate is more connected to the slenderman than Toby is. Where she can hear him despite great distances, Toby needs to be at a certain, close radius to hear the slenderman, though the both of them could still recognise when he's near and if they're needed.

Faster than Toby. She's called The Chaser for a reason, and trying to outrun or outlast her is the worst mistake you could make.

Pretty quiet and doesn't talk often with her fellow proxy when he's around. She's more of a listener and listens (and or zones out) of any topic Toby is on about.

Ticci Toby

Tobias Erin Rogers was someone who's deeply familiar with the feeling of isolation. Being ostracised from a young age due to circumstances he can't control, his only reprieve was the company provided by his older sister and the sons of the family just down the street from his own home, though even that wouldn't last as Toby's only friends were torn away from him, and both his mother and sister had passed not long after they had left, leaving Toby alone with a sorry excuse of a father and an empty house.

Fortunately for him, something had noticed his suffering, and it reached an elongated, outstretched hand as it gave him the option to leave this life behind.

Whereas he was a quiet, introverted boy when he was younger, Toby currently is outgoing, excitable and manic, and is often careless during the job due to his general demeanor and the fact he can't feel pain. This also leads him to be fascinated by how his victims feel pain, and he likes to study their reactions.

He's got special eyes like Kate! They don't glow in the dark like hers does, but he does still have night vision.

Pyromaniac! If he could, he'd take the opportunity to set his victims on fire or set their shelters or belongings on fire. He's also in charge of setting controlled burns in the areas of the slenderman's territory where he needs him to.

When desperate times call for desperate measures, Toby won't hesitate to turn to cannibalistic tendencies on his victims.

Physically stronger than Kate.

Absolutely ass cook, don't let him near a stove.

The hoodie he wears under his parka and the axes he holds are some things he brought from the life he left behind, most everything else was stolen off his victims.

Nose piercing! He knows he must have had it before he became a proxy, but if he thinks about it too hard, he'd start getting a headache or start tearing up.

Visions of his past life sometimes slip through, though unlike Kate's where hers are rare and short-lived, Toby's memories slip often, especially when he's asleep where whatever past life he had left behind twists to haunt him in his nightmares. These instances piss him off, and he sees them as a moment of weakness.

[thebigbiwolf]

Spittle - Part 1/2

Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.

Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.

This is what happens when you eat half the bar.

Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, succubus magic, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk), more tags will be added later.

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Dubcon (if you squint), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence

Read on AO3: Here

A/N: Remember the dead spider? I remember the dead spider. Anyways, the reception I've been getting on Starvin', Darlin' has me wanting to thank everyone with a one-shot. This got away from me so I went ahead and split it into two parts.

I've never written anything like this and it was significantly more difficult than a multi-chapter fic. I hope everything comes across the way its supposed to! And a huge thank you to my beta @imaginarydromedary for...you know... encouraging me to post this, despite everything.

From what you could tell, there wasn’t much to the apothecary. 

As you push open the dilapidated doors, your first thought is to search for supplies - anything that could help if things went south on your way to the goblin camp. 

Dried herbs hang from the rafters beneath a thin veil of cobwebs, filling your lungs with a pungent clash of scents. Empty bottles lined the shelves along the wall, caked in several months worth of dust. Large chunks of the building were missing where stone met splintered wood, some areas almost entirely overtaken by greenery.

You step over broken shards of pottery, scanning over the floor and countertops for something - anything that may be of use, but to your disappointment, it seems like the shop was entirely ransacked long before your arrival.

You sigh deeply, knowing you’ll likely never hear the end of this from your companions. It was your idea to search the village. You were the one who suggested taking out the goblin scouts, exerting everyones’ energy, and now you’re afraid you’ll have very little to show for it.

You catch a glint of gold, an object reflecting the sun's rays beneath a pile of rubble. You kneel down to brush away the surrounding debris, thankful for even the smallest promise of coin before your hands catch on… some sort of serrated edge?

You pull at it, and it easily comes loose. It's a thin, rectangular block, just barely larger than the length of your hand. You wipe away some of the dirt with your sleeve, revealing an intricately designed foil wrapping underneath.

As you speculate what this might be, you hear footsteps approaching from behind, light and familiar. You turn to face the elf with a smirk.

“You’re supposed to be the stealthy one.” You chide at him, playfully, “Or has my blood put a little skip in your step?”

Astarion scoffs. “I’ve been here the entire time, watching you fumble around in the dirt.” 

Crimson eyes study you, then the object you’re holding. He places his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side with a raised brow. “Is that what you’ve dragged us all the way here for?”

“First of all,” you waggle a finger at him, “You’re especially grumpy when you’re tired. I’ll have to make a note to prioritize your beauty rest. Second, I haven’t finished looking around, but check this out.”

You hand the bar to him as you stand. The cool skin of his fingers brush against your own, and you’re irritated with the way your heart skips at the brief contact. Why did the one man you found attractive in your camp have to be such a primadonna? And such a huge pain in the ass? 

Astarion’s eyes scan over the textured paper with suspicion, angling it towards the light to get a better look. The golden wrapping is stamped with an image of red lips On the back, letters twist and curve in a language you don't recognize, following a single circular pattern where they meet in the center. You’ve never seen anything like this, neither in your travels, nor within the city walls of Baldur’s Gate.

“Where did you find this?” 

You shrug, then point to the pile next to you. “It was buried right there.” 

He silently stares at the foil, mouth pursed, until your patience begins to wear thin.

“Well, can you read it or not?”

His nose scrunches. “Of course I can’t read it. It’s written in Infernal.”

That’s… odd. Why would an ordinary apothecary sell goods made by devils? Or, worse, for devils. Unless, of course, it was some sort of marketing trick, perhaps a play on the phrase ‘sinfully sweet’, or some other cringeworthy branding.

You take it back, turning it over in your hands before tearing at the corner of the wrapping. It's sectioned into dark, rich squares, and smells indisputably like chocolate.

“It looks like candy.”

“An excellent observation.” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, can we go? We’ve spent more than enough time here already.”

You roll your eyes and stuff it into your bag, setting off for camp, vampire in tow.

–

During dinner, you decide not to tell the others about what you found, knowing Astarion’s likely already forgotten the event. You set down your empty plate, thanking Gale for tonight’s meal. He smiles at you and bids you goodnight as you excuse yourself to your tent. 

You pick up your rucksack, thinking fondly of the dessert that awaits you inside. Having lived at the beck and call of your companions for weeks on end, you can’t help but smile at the idea of selfishly indulging in a small treat like this.

You tear open the rest of the wrapping and snap off one of the squares, immediately popping one into your mouth. It melts - buttery in texture, with a smokey, slightly bitter flavor. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten something so rich. Maybe weeks of the same rations have made you easier to impress, but this felt especially notable.

As you break off a second piece, a strange tingling sensation begins to spread across your lips - a pleasant buzzing that starts at your neck and spreads down through your chest. 

Strange, but not entirely unwelcome. You’ve heard of such inebriating chocolates, ones laced with alcohol or species of flowers that numb one’s senses for a short while. All harmless, of course, and you don’t have watch tonight. You may as well enjoy yourself. If worst comes to worst, Shadowheart is just outside with an assortment of spells and potions. Always better to ask for forgiveness.

It only takes you minutes to finish half the bar. You set the rest next to your bedroll for later and turn to blow out your candles, enjoying the lingering physical effects of the chocolate. Your skin feels flushed and delightfully warm as you settle down for the night.

When sleep finally takes you, it's dreamless, at first. Your consciousness sways, floating in an empty abyss, until colors begin to bleed onto the blank canvas of your mind.

A trickle of red morphs into the shape of familiar eyes, piercing you with their intensity..

Droplets of white spatter over a dark background, diffusing, blending into whisps. They curl and twist before settling into soft, coiffed fibers. 

Hair , you recognize immediately, his hair . His eyes.

Astarion. 

His image fully takes form, as if it had been waiting for you to make the connection before entirely revealing itself. 

He reaches out and seizes you, grabbing painfully at your hips as you crash into his body, hands exploring you - tight, possessive, squeezing at every inch of exposed skin before settling on the curve of your ass. He digs into your flesh with the blunt edge of his nails.

His lips press hot, wet kisses to your throat, mouthing just below the ear, before dragging his tongue along your nape and sucking, hard . You whine at the pressure, eliciting a grin from the elf, so characteristically pleased with the pathetic little noise he’s managed to pull from you.

“You thought sleeping would allow you to escape this - to escape me , unscathed?” He growls against your skin, his voice almost unrecognizable - as if it’s layered beneath a lighter, somehow more arrogant, feminine one.

“No, no, no. Wake up, darling. You’re in for a very long night.”

–

You startle awake, gasping - loud, labored breaths struggling to make use of the unbearably thin air. The edges of your tent bleed in and out of focus, spinning at a nauseating pace as you attempt to recollect yourself.

You wipe at the sweat collecting on your brow, the muscles of your arm heavy and aching, and find that your skin is absolutely drenched. 

Hot. Why is everything so hot? 

It's as if you're being cooked alive beneath your blankets, strangled beneath the furs. You throw them off; normally soft to the touch, the fibers now only worsen the prickling beneath your skin.

Could this be some sort of illness? A fever? 

No, this doesn’t make sense. Everything feels off. 

Fleeting thoughts of Astarion cross your mind - quick flashes of a sinful smile that was not his own.

It didn’t quite match the one you’d silently come to admire, and now that you think of it, the hunger in his gaze was much too intense for the reserved elf. 

His hands, his mouth, the way he touched you -

Your abdomen cramps, bringing your thoughts to a screeching halt.

A stabbing, visceral pain; a knife plunging into your organs. It overwhelms you, forces your body to curl into itself. You hold your pelvis, grunting, and grasp at your sheets. Tears sting the corner of your eyes.

This is - well, you have no idea what this is. 

You can’t think past the pounding in your head, the throbbing in your midsection. You're compulsively twisting, writhing, begging the gods for some sort of reprieve, but it's then when you make the most mortifying discovery of the night.

You’re soaked .

N ot just your smallclothes, which may have been understandable given your strange dreams, but through your damned pants. Not even the sheets were spared. 

“What  in the hells…?” 

You run your fingers over yourself, only intending to confirm the horrifying reality of your situation - that this is not, in fact, some sick, perverted nightmare, but the lightest touch sets off every nerve. 

You wail at the sensation: one massive wave of bliss giving way to several small jolts of pain. 

Pleasure to the point of agony.

The shock of the sudden orgasm courses from your sex through every limb, clenching and releasing pitiful, warm slick. It leaks freely out of you into your already thoroughly ruined underwear. 

Your heart pounds. You stay like that for what feels like a lifetime, toes curled, limbs twitching, waiting for your body to settle. 

After a minute or so, your breathing evens, and the thick haze surrounding your thoughts begins to lift just slightly, along with the suffocating heat. 

But something within you knows this isn’t the end - knows this isn’t enough . A desperation lurks beneath the surface that you can’t quite name. It screams at you. You need more.

‘Aw…’ A familiar, feminine voice prods at your mind. You quickly recognize her, the woman from your dreams who wore Astarion’s image.  

‘All alone, are we? Empty and needing to be filled? Doesn’t that hurt?’

It does. It aches unlike anything you’ve ever known. The lingering buzz of your orgasm just barely quells the worsening cramps, and they’re beginning to rear their ugly head again not minutes later.

You choke out a sob. “Wh- why are you doing this? What do you want?”

Sharp, wicked laughter fills your head, echoing off the walls of your skull. ‘I’m not doing anything, dear. Just enjoying the show.’ She hisses, ‘I told you, it’s going to be a very long night.’

You must be hallucinating. This fever - whatever this is, is simply cauterizing your senses, or possibly interacting with the tadpole? But the tadpole doesn’t speak, not like this. Never so clearly. Not with words.

Think, please. There has to be a reason this -

“Is everything alright?” Shadowheart raps on the canvas of your tent. “I heard a yelp. Are you hurt?”

Shit.

‘Ooh, this one might do!’  You feel an unwelcome… eagerness flood you.

No. No. Absolutely not.

You try not to panic. 

Under no circumstances should she or anyone else come in here.

The best strategy may be to ignore her - pretend you’re still sleeping. It seems like a good plan, but before you have a chance to follow through with it, another sharp contraction hits. This one is somehow even worse than the ones before. 

You pull your sheets up to your mouth to stifle your whine, but the half elf’s ears are sharper than most. “I’m coming in.”

She opens the flap to your tent and gasps when she sees you there - skin flushed pink, doubled over and covered in sweat. 

“Gods, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” Her hand reaches out towards you. 

Without thinking, you swat it away with your own. Your skin tingles at the contact, and the essence of a smile crosses over the threshold into your mind. The intruder giggles with satisfaction.

“Don’t,” you plead, “Don’t touch me.”

She scans over you, taking in your humiliating state. Her face twists with concern. “I need to know if you’re feverish. Please. You look awful.” 

‘Well, I think you look delectable.’

You groan.

At this point, you know it’s no use fighting this thing on your own. You go back and forth on whether you want to tell her the whole truth, about the voice in your head and its influence on your body, but the idea mortifies you into silence. 

Regardless, a cleric is likely your best chance of fixing this literal mess, so you nod, close your eyes, and brace yourself.

Shadowheart’s palm meets your forehead. It’s somehow worse than you anticipated. Even the simple, chaste touch sends you reeling, as if her soft hands are caressing your entire body. Flashes of heat wash over you, burning your skin, threatening to pull you back under another wave of ecstasy. 

It’s too much. You try your hardest to suppress a moan, but the muffled sound manages to escape from between your tightened lips, pitiful and broken.

The disembodied voice squeals with delight.

She quickly retracts her hand, clearing her throat. “Apologies. I can confirm your temperature is… elevated, but the rest…” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

You want to scream, cry - anything to release your frustration, but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to risk making any more unsavory noises.

“I believe I can give you some relief by treating the fever, but I’ll have to consult the others on the rest. This doesn’t look like any ordinary sickness.”

Consult the others? No. Gods, no. Nobody can know about this. Is she mad?

You intend to protest, beg her not to share this with anyone, tell her whatever death awaits you on the other side of this would be preferable, but she’s speaking an incantation before you have the chance.

A bright, green aura envelopes you, cooling your skin and ever so slightly easing the cramps. With the pain dulled, it's as though you can finally think again. 

You want to laugh. This situation is so utterly ridiculous that you’d find it hilarious, were it anyone else, but with the modicum of relief comes exhaustion - eyelids heavy, vision blurring with weariness.

“Get some rest. We’ll figure this out.” 

Her reassuring words are the last thing you hear before you’re overcome by darkness.

[bouquetface]

Navamsa Observations 8 - Your Future Home

One should check D1 and dasha periods for full accuracy of when and if property/homes come to the native.

This is meant to be a fun post. This is just a few observations from irl charts. Please take it as entertainment.

💗 ASC ruler's placement and mars in D1 is important to see the person's ability to be successful and accomplish their goals. Weak or debilitated ASC ruler and mars shows the person is prone to give up in the face of conflict. When these placements are weak, you will need support of others to purchase a home.

💗 Gemini influence on 4th in D9 is one indicator for a busy home life. This can manifest as living in a city or other busy area. Or it can manifest as someone who often has people visiting their home - making the home a busy area.

💗 Pisces influence on 4th in D9 indicates having an emotional connection with your home. You can desire to live off the grid as pisces can give an escapism theme. EX: You can live in the wilderness, You can live away from noise and the business of society. Or You have a space in the home that is very special to you.

ex: Mercury in Pisces 4th H in D9 - Few neighbours and the home is somewhat hidden - maybe in a forrest type area. If Jupiter is well placed, this shows a big home or land.

With Pisces’s influence you will deeply connect to your home. It becomes your escape from the world. However, from my IRL observations it doesn’t indicate a big home on its own. Rather it shows a hermit type energy to the home - somewhere hidden.

💗 Sagittarius another Jupiter ruled sign can indicate a spacious home. This can indicate doing renovations or moving at some point. Sag influence is adventurous and will attempt to expand the home in some way. If Jupiter is well placed, this shows a big home or land. You may have religious or educational items in the home too.

ex: Mercury in sag in 4th - It would be considered a big home. There are many rooms some more spacious than others. Mercury’s influence has family usually visiting and staying for days at a time. Sometimes months!

💗 If Saturn is aspecting Jupiter and related to the 4th H, this indicates a small and humble home.

Ex: Pisces 4th H - Jupiter conjunct Saturn in Gemini 9th H - You may live in an isolated location. You may have exposed wood style. The home is likely small. A small home does not equate to an ugly home.

4th House ruler and/or planets in 4th House: Mrigashira: This nakshatra is about getting away. This shows home in an isolated area. A way from the loudness and hustle of society and the city. You can live in a forest-y areas.

💗 Aries and Mars influence indicate a small home as well. They often like having a lot of open space to be active. They usually have small homes but bigger backyards.

ex: Aries sun in 4th in D9 - They have a small home that is built beautifully. They live near a park too.

Sun/Leo influence desires something grand. In this case, that manifests through the decor and design. They have a beautiful outdoor grilling area for parties. Your home will likely have a unique stand out feature w/ Leo/Sun influence - ex: House exterior is different from others on the block, Unique colour home, Unique colour door.

💗 Rahu influence on 4th in D9 can show someone who purchases foreign items for their home. Or they live in a foreign area - this doesn’t have to be a different country, it can simply be far from birth place. You may purchase or renovate the home to fit a foreign style. If rahu is aspecting a well placed Jupiter, the home will be big - especially if conjunct.

💗 Mercury influence can manifest as moving a lot too. This can be a manifestation of the busy and activity you deal in the home. If well placed and aspecting Jupiter, you may own multiple homes. This would need wealth indicators to support this.

💗 Mercury in 4th in D9 - They will have a library/study or home-office area somewhere in the home.

💗 4th H Ruler conjunct Jupiter in D9 - If unafflicted, this can indicate a big home. The 4th H Ruler should be a planet Jupiter is friendly with like Moon or Sun.

ex: 4th H Ruler Moon conjunct Jupiter - She is house hunting currently and she is looking for a huge kitchen. A perfect kitchen is what she desires most.

💗 Cancer & Taurus influence on the 4th H - These individuals usually desire a specific style kitchen. Aspects and sign can provide further insight on what style you will desire. They want the home to be comfortable. Unlike sag & aqua, they will be the least likely to try an adventurous style home. They usually want something traditional. They can be like hoarders with the amount of items they buy for the home. ex: many throw pillows, many photos up, many blankets, lots of closet & cupboard space. They usually dislike moving and will stay put for many years after settling into a home.

💗 Moon influence on 4th H - This shows a home with many sentimental items. If moon is well placed like libra or taurus, a beautiful home. Possible multiple kitchens or dining areas in the home.

ex: Cancer 4th H - Moon conjunct Sun conjunct Jupiter in Aqua. This person would have a huge and grand kitchen in their home. The kitchen may be the biggest part of the home.

💗 Libra influence on 4th H most likely to want a clean and organized area. They can have specific areas for specific things. They will strongly dislike when things are out of place. They often have a modern but traditional touches in their design and decor. You are most likely to be the type of parent telling your kids to make their bed and clean their rooms ever morning lol.

💗 Aquarius influence on 4th H - They have unique features for the home. They are most willing to renovate for them. They tend to desire home’s with features and styles that can’t be easily replicated. Ex: Farmhouse aesthetic, Futuristic aesthetic, etc. Most likely to have set up alexa or google home.

💗 Saturn influence on 4th H - This can manifest as disliking or difficulty in moving. You could refuse to consider moving or struggle to move once settled. These individuals will prioritize a house that will last. They look for something to last long-term. They can prefer traditional timeless styles. The home may be small and/or the rooms would be considered small.

Another thing I’ve observed with saturn is they often have a portico on the home - especially saturn in 8th.

💗 Venus in 11th H D9 - This can indicate either a beautiful home or/and car. It doesn’t necessarily show a specific style just that it will be expensive/luxurious. This is actually more likely if Venus is debilitated or with a malefic. However, this is not always a good indicator. It can show buying something one can’t truly afford. = debt.

💗 Jupiter in 11th D9 - This shows a desire for a big home or property. You will become the type of person who judges the beauty of the home based on size. Whether this desire is fulfilled or not depends on D1 & D9.

KEEP IN MIND:

Most people move throughout their life. Not every home they live in is the same. The traits of these signs and planets can manifest in different ways each time.

[mutant-distraction]

Mammatus clouds over Ah-Shi-sle-pah Wilderness Study Area in New Mexico

source: Space and Universe

[bogleech]

I don't think there's ever been a single study into this, but I think we surely take for granted how much human activity is kept in check by "pests" like biting insects. I don't mean people dying in droves from malaria, that doesn't help anything. But the people merely pissed off by mosquitoes? Imagine how many millions of humans around the world, every single day, must shorten the time they spend in the woods or on the beach, turn in early, maybe avoid some areas altogether because "the bugs are bad!" Now imagine what that math has to look like all added up; how much less damage humans are doing to ecosystems because they couldn't take all the horseflies or they just didn't want to risk picking up ticks. When I go exploring the wilderness around here I can tell where people feel the most comfortable the most often, just by the reliable concentrations of garbage strewn around the most consistently open, sunlit and "pretty" spots. None of that the closer you get to muddy, swampy, shady places where you're going to get eaten alive by gnats. Sometimes I see all the food trash scattered around a cute little clearing in the forest and I kinda wish I could teleport a nice big nasty stinging anthill right into the middle of it.

[skyward-floored]

Shatter

(Alternate title: Warriors Gets Jarred)

HAPPY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY @adrift-in-thyme!!!! I finally finished the fic I said I was going to write for you :3 I hope you like it, and I’m sorry once again for taking I don’t even know how many months to finish this XD

Ao3 link

————————————————————

“Ooooh, there’s something wrong about this place, I just know it.”

Time more than agreed with Wind’s anxious mutter, studying the trees at the side of the path. At first glance there was nothing strange with the forest they were all trekking through, but the longer they walked, the more nervous they all got. The forest was almost completely silent, no sound of squirrels in the underbrush, no birdsong in the trees. There was no life except for the foliage, and even that seemed strangely off, leaves more grey than green, flowers oddly dull.

Something seemed to hang in the very air, heavy and dark, and Time knew all of them had caught onto it, ears flicking, eyes darting towards shadows.

Something was wrong.

“Where did you say you think this great fairy was again?” Four asked in a quiet voice, and Hyrule hesitated, looking around the forest.

“There’s a magic source of some kind up ahead,” he said, but his voice was uncertain. “But these woods... they aren’t natural.”

“So something’s definitely up then,” Legend mumbled from his place on Twilight’s back. “Wonderful.”

“It’s not like we have any other options,” Sky quietly pointed out, gesturing with his arm that wasn’t in a sling. “It’s the hope of a Great Fairy through the unsettling woods or nothing.”

The rest of them murmured agreement, and Time looked back at all the heroes, worn down from a series of long fights, almost everyone injured without any supplies left to heal them. Legend was the worst off, a deep wound in his side and a concussion to boot, but they were all weary and in need of healing, broken arms and twisted ankles, bruises and cuts galore.

But they were in an in-between time period, one none of them recognized. They’d come across no towns or anywhere else where they could buy supplies, just monsters and wilderness, empty forests and fields.

So it was the Great Fairy or nothing.

A soft breeze rustled the leaves around them, and Time wasn’t the only one who stiffened, his ears twitching. Something like a laugh drifted on the wind, but it faded before he could pinpoint it.

He saw Warriors swallow next to him, and Wind rub anxiously at the dark bruise on his cheek.

“...Come on. This way,” Time said finally, able to sense the same magic Hyrule was following, and they all trailed after him, walking closer together then they had been previously.

It wasn’t long before the top of a structure poked through the trees, and Time steered towards it, following an overgrown, barely-there path. An old temple-like building rose up from the trees, thick vines clawing at dark stone, and they all paused to look up at it.

“This is it,” Time confirmed. Hyrule silently nodded in agreement.

They all exchanged looks, but nobody spoke further, and they all trailed inside.

Time relaxed just a bit at the familiar brush of fairy magic that drifted faintly around them, but he realized quickly that there weren’t any fairies inside, the space oddly dark. The Links looked around, studying dark stone and broken windows, and Time walked towards the pool of water on the far side of the room.

His steps were loud on the stones, and Time studied the pool uneasily, the water inside dull and dark.

Strangely dark.

“...This is really a fairy fountain?” Wind asked as they all gathered in the middle of the area, and Wild limped over to the pool, setting a foot near the water.

“I mean... it kinda looks like one,” Wild said, leaning out over the water. “Just... weird.”

“Careful Champion,” Warriors cautioned, slowly moving to stand beside him. “Something here isn’t...”

“Oh, some Heroes have come to visit, have they?”

All of them froze at the echoing voice, strangely harsh to their ears. Hyrule flinched and Warriors stiffened, but Time barely noticed, gaze focused on the pool.

The water was rippling, bubbles appearing on its surface.

“Seems they’ve come seeking help,” the voice continued, tittering when they all took a step back. “Oh, even injured they’re strapping specimens indeed...”

“Ew,” Legend muttered.

The voice laughed, and Time stepped forward, ignoring his unease. “We’ve come in need of healing,” he spoke in a level voice, and the voice went silent a moment. Time was sure he could feel eyes on them all.

“Healing, hmm... I don’t know. You all look so dashing with blood on you...”

“This doesn’t feel right,” Four whispered as the voice hummed. Time nodded, still watching the water. Great Fairies could be on the... unsettling side, but not like this, and he could feel the dark magic in the air now, thick and pungent, like an oily weight that sank into his skin.

Time set a hand on his sword.

“No. It’s not,” he said grimly.

“Does this magic feel familiar to anyone else?” Twilight whispered, a hand ghosting along his side where the Shadow’s axe had struck.

“Something’s wrong here,” Hyrule breathed behind them, hand still pressed to his chest. Time glanced at him and saw his eyes darting around the room, sweat beading on his brow. “Something’s really wrong here...”

“I think we need to leave,” Sky whispered.

The voice laughed like it had heard him, and they all went silent, watching the bubbling water.

“Leave? You just got here! Such fine heroes deserve a rest,” the voice almost purred, and Time‘s grip tightened on his sword. “Lovely specimens indeed... in fact...”

The water abruptly stilled, and the Links held their breath, every muscle in Time’s body alert and tensed.

“...I think I’ll keep you!”

The ground began to tremble under their feet, and Time felt the hair on his neck stand up, the water somehow growing darker as it bubbled again.

“Boys, get away from the—!”

A pale hand shot out of the water at the same time Warriors shoved Wild away, the hand closing around Warriors and pulling him under with a cry.

“Captain!” Twilight gasped as Time’s heart lurched, and they all ran to the water with their weapons drawn, Four helping Wild back to his feet.

The water had gone still again, but it was still frothy from the recent movement, and Time scanned its depths, looking frantically for any sign of Warriors below.

Nothing but dark water met him.

“I’m going to find him,” Sky said suddenly, marching forward as he pulled a necklace with a scale on it from under his shirt.

Time moved to stop him, prepared to argue that he couldn’t swim with a broken arm, but then the ground lurched under their feet. They were all knocked off-balance, and Twilight nearly dropped Legend with how harshly it shook. Time had to steady Wild, and they’d all barely regained their footing when something erupted from the pool, water splashing outwards and nearly soaking them as a laugh echoed around the room, unusually harsh and high-pitched.

Hyrule gasped and several of the others did along with him at the sight, horror rooting Time in place at the sight of what stood before them.

It was a Great Fairy, but wrong.

Her skin was ashen, her hair dull and lifeless, lacking any of the usual sparkle it should hold. Her dress was tattered, and the vines twirling around it and her body were dead and grey, like bleached bones of the plants that had once grown there. The only spot of color she sported were her eyes, and those barely counted, a sickly yellow and glowing with malice.

But worst of all was the sight of the large bottle she held possessively in her hand, long nails curled around the jar as she gently caressed it.

Warriors just barely visible inside with his hands pressed to the glass, soaking wet and looking absolutely terrified.

“Captain!” Sky gasped, and Time could only stare at Warriors for several moments, unable to tear his gaze away from the hero trapped inside of the glass.

Warriors met his eyes, his own unusually bright with fear, and all of a sudden Time was eleven again.

“Great fairy, we need your help. We can’t win this battle without you.”

Mask stood to the side as the captain knelt by the pool, the clash of weapons and screams of monsters and men coming from right outside. The squad they’d brought with them shifted uneasily as something howled, and Mask swallowed.

The Great Fairy was their last hope of victory here, and if she wasn’t willing to help them... it wouldn’t be pretty.

Right when he was about to grab the mask at his hip and see if he could do anything, the Great Fairy finally rose from her pool, leaning over the edge to smile at the captain.

“Of course I can help, little hero,” she laughed, bells in her voice. “...But not without a price. I trust you are willing?”

Something in her voice made Mask frown, but the Captain nodded without hesitation, determination on his face. The Great Fairy grinned at the confirmation, and leapt out of the water with a laugh and a twirl, soaking a few of the soldiers standing too close.

Then she snatched up the Captain, and dropped him into a bottle she pulled from thin air.

“Hey!” Mask shouted, but the Great Fairy waved a dismissive hand at him.

“It’s just until we’ve won,” she giggled, holding the bottle up so she could see the Captain better. He took a step back, eyes wide and uncertain. “Unless he’d like to stick around afterwards... but regardless, I need some help, and you’re just who I need.”

Her eyes glinted a bit.

“Let’s go, little hero. Show me how well you can swing that little sword of yours.”

The harsh laugh rang through the air again, and Time snapped back to the present as the Great Fairy gave the bottle in her hand a light shake.

Warriors looked ill.

“Let him go!” Wind shouted, tightly gripping his sword, but the Great Fairy only laughed again. “He’s not yours, let him out!”

“On the contrary little hero,” she smiled, unnatural and wide. “I caught him, so he’s mine. That’s how it works.”

“As a Great Fairy you should know that that’s not how it works,” Time said as he glared up at the corrupted fairy. “Release him.”

“No,” the fairy said plainly, and Warriors pressed his back to the glass as she held him up mere inches from her face. She smirked. “I haven’t had a toy this good-looking in a long time.”

Warriors lost what little color he had left, and Twilight chucked a boomerang at the fairy’s arm.

She flicked it out of the air with a tsk, the weapon clattering to the ground, and her gaze narrowed, the bit of red around her pupils seeming to grow.

“It’s not polite to attack your hostess.”

“Then release him!” Wild shouted, nocking an arrow and aiming it towards her. “None of us are staying with you, you creep!”

The Great Fairy looked at him, and sighed.

“Well then I suppose I have no choice.”

Dark magic glowed at her fingertips, and suddenly they were all scrambling for cover, most of them only dodging the burst of darkness she threw at them at the very last second.

“This must be the Shadow’s work,” Four wheezed as he ducked behind the same piece of stone Time had sheltered behind. “What else would be able to corrupt fairy magic like this?”

“It has his dirty fingerprints all over it,” Wild snarled from nearby, pulling out a stronger bow from his pouch.

“But how did he corrupt a great fairy?” Hyrule said in dismay, and Twilight yanked him out of the way of another harsh spray of dark magic.

“It doesn’t matter how he managed it, we need to get rid of it,” Time shouted over another harsh laugh. “And save Warriors.”

“How do we do that?!”

The Great fairy kept laughing, and the piece of wall they were hiding behind was suddenly destroyed, the Links scrambling away from the debris. The bottle was swung at them all as they scattered, and Warriors flew by in a blur of color.

Wild whirled around and shot off a round of arrows, several hitting their mark, but the corrupted fairy didn’t even seem to notice, still blasting magic and swinging her bottle.

Time ran forward with his blade raised, and the Great Fairy twirled out of his way. She laughed at his attempts to hit her, then slammed him backwards with the bottle she held.

Time managed to get his shield up, but he was still knocked to the ground, pain radiating up his arm where he’d taken the brunt of the hit.

He thought he heard a muffled cry from Warriors, but the bottle was swinging around too much for him to be sure. Wind covered him while he got to his feet, and Time joined the others as they tried to get close enough to the Great Fairy to actually fight her.

There was too much magic flying around though, dark bursts that made Time’s stomach roll when one exploded too close to him. Between the magic and the way the fairy swung the bottle Warriors was trapped in, nobody could get close enough to cause any real damage.

A larger ball of darkness formed in one of the Great Fairy’s hands, and everyone ran for cover again as more dark magic exploded through the room. Most of them ended up behind a larger chunk of stone, and Twilight slid down next to Time, Legend no longer on his back.

“This isn’t working,” Twilight growled, laughter ringing through the room. “Any suggestions?”

“I’d try the Master Sword, but I can’t get close enough,” Sky wheezed from nearby, his face worried and grim. “Her magic would doubtlessly help, but I don’t know how...”

“Oh! Light arrows!” Wind said with a gasp. He wiped some dust off his face, then began fishing in his pouch. “If it’s dark magic, then light arrows should help!”

“But will it hurt her?” Hyrule asked worriedly, and Time sighed.

“I don’t know, but we don’t really have a choice. Hopefully this will purify her. We can only hope for the best at this point, we don’t have the strength for a drawn-out battle.” He looked around at them all. “If anyone has long-range light magic or weapons, use it now.”

Warriors needs us.

Dark magic hit the stone they were sheltering behind, and the Links scattered again, several grabbing in their pouches.

Wind quickly took out his bow, and pulled back an arrow, the tip lighting up in gold. It grazed the fairy’s arm, and she shrieked, the sound so piercing Time and the others put their hands to their ears.

“It worked!”

“Keep it up!” Time shouted, getting his own bow out.

He shot a light arrow of his own at the Great Fairy, but she dodged, eyes flashing with anger.

“Insolent boys!” she screamed, blasting more magic outwards.

Her attacks came twice as fast as she avoided the light magic, but her aim was less precise in her anger. Time found himself dodging so much he only had time to shoot off a single light arrow before he had to move again to avoid all kinds of stray shots.

He caught sight of Legend tucked behind a piece of stone, still looking dizzy, but shooting some kind of light magic anyway. Hyrule was beside him also shooting arrows, and the Great Fairy grew more and more enraged, shooting magic and throwing her bottle around much more violently.

There was so much noise he couldn’t be sure, but Time could swear he heard Warriors cry out more than once, and his throat tightened with fear.

We need to get him out of there, now.

Time paused in his assault, slipping behind a piece of stone and waiting for the Great Fairy’s attention to be drawn to the other side of the room. Someone cried out, and Time ran forward and went to a knee as he carefully aimed.

He shot an arrow directly at the Great Fairy’s wrist, and as it pierced her flesh, Time felt some kind of magic snap, a protection he hadn’t realized was there.

The fairy shrieked as she clutched at her wrist, and the bottle with Warriors dropped from her grasp.

“Captain!”

Wind’s cry was cut off by the bottle shattering as it hit the ground, broken glass scattering like fallen stars across the dark stone. Time was already running, and he slid to his knees beside Warriors, heedless of the glass he was crouching in.

Blood ran down Warriors’ face from a cut on his temple, and he didn’t move when Time gave him a cautious shake. Dozens of cuts from the shattered glass trickled tiny lines of red across his skin, bruises already forming from his time in the bottle. Wind ran up seconds later, and the sailor’s face went pale as he looked at the captain.

“Warriors?!” he said frantically, but the captain didn’t react.

Time quickly checked Warriors’ breathing, relieved when he felt his chest going up and down. But his leg was at an odd angle, blood still weeping from various cuts all over him, and Time swallowed, taking in how truly battered Warriors was.

His mind fell back to the war again against his will, the Great Fairy fighting with the captain in her bottle. Some of the men had muffled laughs as she’d done some especially odd attacks, and Mask had snickered at a few of them as well, ignoring the flicker of unease that had still been bothering him. His laughter had died the moment the battle had ended though, and the Great Fairy had shaken the captain out of the bottle.

Link had barely been standing, and as soon as the Great Fairy had left he’d emptied his stomach into a bush. He was shaking so hard he could barely walk, and Mask had had to help him back to camp, supporting him as they walked.

But he couldn’t do anything to stop the shaking, couldn’t take away the look in his eyes.

The bruises and other injuries the captain had gotten from being knocked around in the bottle stayed with him for days, but the fear in his eyes had stuck with Time ever since.

That was the first time he’d realized that his big brother wasn’t as unshakable as he tried to appear.

Warriors groaned, and Time snapped back to the present, looking down as Warriors’ eyes flickered.

“Captain, can you hear me?” he asked urgently, placing his hand back on Warriors’ shoulder. He flinched at the touch, breath stuttering, and Time quickly removed his hand.

“Warriors?” Wind asked again, and Warriors opened his eyes a little more, looking dazed.

And scared.

“Link, we need to get you somewhere safe,” Time said, throwing his shield up to block a stray blast of darkness. And despite knowing the answer, he added, “Can you stand?”

Warriors breathed in shakily.

“I...” he croaked, voice barely a whisper. “N... dunno.”

He begin to faintly shiver, and Time breathed out, looking at the fight, then back to him. The other Links were doing their best to keep the Great Fairy’s attention away from the three of them, but he didn’t know how long it would last with how battered their group was.

They were all flagging.

“I’ll go help them,” Wind said, giving Warriors a fearful glance before looking back at the battle. “...Can you get him somewhere safe?”

“I will.”

Wind nodded and ran off, lighting up another light arrow to shoot as he rejoined the battle. Time turned his attention back to Warriors, and saw that his eyes had slid closed again, his expression tense as his breath softly wheezed.

“Captain. I’m going to help you up, we need to get you out of here,” Time said. Warriors didn’t reply, and Time carefully pulled him up, not entirely carrying him, but supporting almost all of his weight. Warriors stiffened at his touch, then began shivering harder. “It’ll only be for a moment, hold on.”

Time stood, keeping his shield at the ready as he began to get them as far away from the water as possible. The Great Fairy screeched in rage again as she was struck by another light arrow from Wind, and Time heard someone shout.

Twilight dodged his way over to Time and Warriors, blood smeared in his hair, and wordlessly covered them as they moved further away.

Warriors’s head hung forward, blood dripping from his face as his breath shuddered, and Time didn’t stop until they were safely behind the stonework, carefully lowering Warriors to the ground. He didn’t even know if the captain was awake any more, and Time’s heart pounded loudly in his ears.

“Warriors?” he asked, patting his cheek. “Hey, wake up.”

The captain twitched a little, and let out a full-body shudder as the Great Fairy yelled. His eyes stayed shut though, and Time knelt beside him, unsure of where to begin. They had no supplies apart from bandages, and he could only do so much with those.

“Captain,” he said in a cautious voice, but Warriors didn’t move. “Link, where are you most hurt?”

Warriors only gave a small shake of his head, faintly shivering. Twilight made his way over to them mere moments later, and he kneeled beside Warriors with a wide look in his eyes.

“Are you okay, Captain?”

Warriors swallowed again, and looked like he tried to raise his head, but couldn’t quite manage to, still shaking and bleeding. He choked on his next breath, and Twilight looked at Time as Warriors’ breathing picked up, rasping and trembling.

“Warriors,” Twilight said more gently, fingers twitching like he had to fight the urge to comfort him with touch. “It’s alright, the others are handling things.”

“We need to tend to your injuries,” Time added, pulling out the few bandages he had left. “Your head is bleeding quite a bit, as is the rest of you.”

Warriors swallowed thickly, and Time watched as he shook harder than the leaves on the Great Deku Tree did when the first spring winds blew in.

His mask had cracked, the one he easily slipped on in battle and stressful situations, hiding his true emotions behind it. Warriors was trying desperately to scrape it back together, but he’d been struck too hard this time. Being put in a bottle again had slashed open scars that had been hastily bandaged in the first place, and now there was no going back.

Not until the threat was gone, at least.

Warriors’s breath hitched, and Time looked at him, bloody and broken, flinching every time the Great Fairy made a sound. Time’s hand was resting near Warriors’s own, and Time reached out, gently twining his fingers with his brother’s.

“You’re safe, Link,” he said quietly, and when Warriors didn’t pull away, he put his other hand on top of his. “Me and Twilight are going to patch you up.”

We won’t let her touch you.

Warriors’s fingers shakily clutched back at Time’s, and Time nodded at him, pulling out his canteen to hopefully wash any glass out of his injuries. Twilight stayed close, his sword still held at the ready, and Time was already planning how to convince him to also be patched up as he cleaned Warriors’s cuts. He hadn’t missed the blood in his descendant’s hair.

Warriors pulled in a shaking breath as Time worked, swallowing as he wiped some blood from his face, fingers shaking. His eyes stayed closed, but Time knew he was awake with how he flinched and kept his face as neutral as possible. He didn’t really succeed in that regard, but he tried anyway.

His other hand stayed firmly in Time’s though, and even though it made his job harder, Time never let go.

Someone shouted nearby, much closer then before, and Time glanced up, frowning as the ground shook beneath them. He held tighter to Warriors, and then jumped as Twilight shouted in alarm.

Time whirled around, and saw a face that should have been beautiful leering mere feet away from them, eyes blazing.

Somehow the Great Fairy had gotten past the other heroes.

“You... are... MINE!” she screamed, voice somehow lyrical and ragged. She stretched a hand out, fingers like gnarled branches of an old, dead tree, and her eyes glinted with desire.

Warriors finally opened his eyes at her scream, and there was such an expression of terror on his face that Time felt something inside himself snap.

He clasped Warriors’s hand that was still in his, and drew on the strength of his gauntlets to bodily throw him out of the way, tossing him towards Twilight. He knew the rancher would catch him, and in the same movement, he grabbed his bow again, calling on the dregs of magic he had remaining.

With her initial target gone, the Great Fairy lunged for Time, dark magic swelling at her fingers. The shouts of the others rang in Time’s ears, but as he drew back a light arrow, he felt strangely calm, even as the sickly feeling of darkness began to reach him.

He was doing this for his big brother.

Time released the arrow at the same time the Great Fairy shot her magic, and the two met in the middle with a shear of pure energy.

It threw Time backwards, and as a scream louder than any of the others rang through the room, something else seemed to snap, thrumming in the very air around them.

Time painfully hit the ground, an oddly-colored smoke rising off of him, but he lurched to his feet anyway. There was an awful smell in his nose and mouth, and his head spun as he stumbled backwards.

Warriors.

Where was Warriors?

Time heard a muffled shout, and turned, lurching towards the smears of green and blue he could see nearby. His skin burned as he moved, muscles screaming as loud as the Great Fairy was, and Time dove forward and covered Warriors and Twilight’s heads.

All three of them closed their eyes against the wave of energy that suddenly rushed outward, rustling their hair and making Time flinch. It only made his body hurt more, but Time gritted his teeth and held on, covering as much of Warriors and Twilight as he possibly could.

Then it went deathly quiet.

Time felt his hands shaking as he waited a moment to be sure, then pulled back, gently releasing Warriors. He seemed no more worse for wear, and Time exhaled, relieved at the sight of both him and Twilight unhurt by the magic.

Twilight was staring at him with a wide-eyed look, but Time ignored it, and somehow got to a shaky knee so he could look around the room. He saw the other Links picking themselves up, wiping blood off injuries, helping others stand.

The water in the pool had stilled, and was now light and clear, faint sparkles drifting on the surface. The whole room seemed brighter now, less oppressively heavy, and Time could feel that the dark magic had been cleansed.

The Great Fairy was nowhere to be seen.

Wild let out a weary cheer from the other side of the room, then listed to the side, Wind barely catching him. They both toppled to the ground, giggling a bit hysterically, and Twilight faintly smiled when Time looked back at him. His descendant still looked worried, but he was just as relieved the fight was over.

Warriors stayed unmoving halfway on his lap, blood still trickling from his brow.

Time swallowed, feeling again every injury he himself had sustained, and he slid back to the floor, placing his hand over Warriors’s again.

His brother’s eyes flickered open, and Time gave him a small smile.

“She’s gone,” he rasped softly, and Warriors exhaled, the sound exhausted with relief. “We did it.”

“You mean you did it,” Twilight added, looking a little awestruck. “I don’t know how you threw the captain and then turned around and shot that arrow barely a second afterwards, but it was mighty impressive.”

“Practice,” Time said with a small smile that hurt to make, and helped Warriors sit up. Warriors held on a bit tighter for a minute, then let go, still trembling just a bit. Time studied him worriedly, but he was interrupted by Twilight fussing over his own wounds, pulling away with a hiss as he touched painful skin. The magic had burned him... more than a bit.

Everyone shuffled their way over to where Time and Twilight were, giving them and Warriors concerned looks. Everyone was at least as bad off as them though, and both Legend and Four were unconscious, so Time thought they were all being rather hypocritical.

A sudden chiming noise rang softly through the room, and the heroes all tensed as the water in the pool rippled. Time recognized it for what it meant, but he still watched in suspicion when a head rose slowly from the water, hair glimmering a soft pink.

Warriors stiffened beside him.

The great fairy’s eyes were clear and bright as she looked around at them all, though her face was lined with a deep sadness. The heroes watched her in silence, hands hovering near weapons, and she let out a heartbroken sigh.

“I’m terribly sorry dear heroes,” the she apologized in a whisper, keeping only her head poking out of the pool. “Such a great darkness fell over me... I was not myself. I see I have only made your situation more dire, and I cannot apologize enough.”

She closed her eyes, and the part of Time that was raised alongside the children of the forest grieved when he saw the shining tear that fell down her cheek.

“I owe you all a debt,” she whispered.

“Healing us might be nice,” Wild spoke up, and Twilight elbowed him.

The Great Fairy didn’t seem offended. “Of course, Hero of the Wilds. It is the least I can do.”

She lifted her hands out of the pool, and as water poured from between her fingers, it faded into gentle sparkles that drifted around the room. They floated around and settled across the hero’s injuries, sweeping them away with a touch like that of flower petals.

Hyrule leaned into them, looking grieved, but calm as the sparkles healed him. Legend watched them in silence when he awoke, as did Four and Twilight, and Wind had a thoughtful look on his face as they sealed a gash on his knee. Sky sighed in relief as they twirled up his broken arm, and Wild faintly smiled when the sparkles trickled up his side, healing whatever the cause of the blood all over his hip was.

Warriors tensed as they reached him, not moving an inch as the sparkles sank in around most of his body. Time kept his hand on his shoulder as they drifted past, and Wind slid up to his side as well, both of them watching as they grew thicker around the captain’s leg and forehead for a few moments. The tiny cuts on his skin were sealed, and the bruises faded until they could only barely be seen.

Time felt his own injuries get healed as well, a smell like honeysuckle and morning dew accompanying the light. They soothed the hurt in his chest from the magic recoil, healed the burns and eased the aches and pains he’d already had in addition.

He waved the sparkles away from his scarred eye once they finished, then turned to help Warriors stand, feeling much more relaxed.

The captain looked relaxed as well, oddly enough, though not as much as everyone else. He still watched the Great Fairy with suspicion, even though his trembling had stilled and his expression had settled back to usual.

And he stiffened again when the Great Fairy’s gaze landed on him once more.

She looked at him steadily, eyes shimmering with remorse, and bowed her head. “My deepest apologies, Hero of the Shattered Eras.”

Warriors nodded, and didn’t look her in the eye.

The Great Fairy waited a moment, as if she was hoping he would verbally respond, then turned her gaze away from him and swept it over the rest of the Links.

“Heroes across the ages, I again offer you my thanks for ridding me of the shadows,” she said, her gaze resting on Time as she spoke. “If you wish to remain here and rest, you are more than welcome to stay as long as you wish. The little wings should return with my release, and I’m sure some would be happy to accompany you.”

“Thank you,” Time said respectfully, and gave Warriors’s shoulder a squeeze. “But we should be moving on. I thank you for your gift of healing, and I’m glad we could be of service.”

The Great Fairy looked disappointed. But she nodded, and with one last grieved look at them all, slipped back into her pool, a few errant sparkles the only thing left behind.

Warriors drooped when it was evident she was truly gone, and Time wasn’t the only one who looked at him with worry. Nobody said anything about it out loud though, just stayed close, and told him they were glad he was okay. Wild thanked him profusely for pushing him out of the way, and Warriors waved him off with a painfully forced smile.

Wind merely leaned on his arm, and Warriors softly ruffled his hair, the sailor looking at him in relief.

They all turned to leave then, beyond ready to get away from the fountain. But a another soft chime caught their attention, making them look back.

A few sparkles were drifting on the edge of the pool, floating together into a vaguely cylindrical shape. The light swirled around, then flashed, before fading away to reveal a small, crystalline bottle, filled with a deep purple liquid.

Looking at it, Time felt oddly sad.

The Links all looked at the bottle with emotion varying from curiosity to suspicion, and Twilight was the one who finally stepped forward and knelt down to pick it up, his eyes going wide as he studied it closer.

“Great Fairy tears,” he said softly, lifting the bottle with great care.

“What do they do?” Four asked, and Twilight looked at the bottle in wonder.

“They heal any wound. And grant a brief blessing to whoever uses them, one that protects from any harm for a short while,” he said, and Legend whistled.

“I can think of some times that would’ve been handy.”

“No kidding,” Wild said with a small glance at Twilight.

“I suppose it’s another apology,” Sky said quietly, and Twilight hummed, about to place the bottle inside of his pack, then hesitated.

“...Do you want to carry it?” he asked, turning to Warriors. “I... have a feeling it was meant for you.”

Warriors shook his head, and looked away. “No. You can take it.”

Twilight didn’t press, and he nodded and gingerly put the bottle away. Everyone took that as the signal to begin making their way out of the restored fairy fountain, and one by one they stepped out into the sunshine.

Time squinted as the light reached his face, and he looked around at the forest they’d emerged into with wonder. It barely seemed like the same place they’d left earlier—it was like a spell had been broken, and life was returning to the plants and very earth around him. Time even heard a bird singing somewhere above their heads.

Everyone was looking around with content expressions, satisfied despite the tired way they held themselves. It was always good to see evil purged from the land. They’d done a good job today, rough as it had been.

Time looked behind him at where Warriors stood back from the others, still-damp hair shining in the rays of sunlight. Time wouldn’t have guessed anything had happened to him, except for the pallor of his skin, and the blood still staining his clothes.

Time moved closer and gently set an arm around his shoulders, light enough that the captain could pull back if he wished. He felt Warriors stiffen at the touch, but then he abruptly leaned into it, his eyes squeezing shut.

“You all right?” Time asked, soft enough to only be heard by Warriors.

“Yes,” Warriors whispered back, slowly breathing in, and then out. Time moved his arm from his shoulders, and turned to face him so he could see him better. “I’m sorry I wasn’t much use in the battle.”

Time felt a sharp prick of guilt, and swallowed. He could still see his brother’s terrified face, the franticness with which he slammed his hands against the bottle, the way he’d been unable to stop shaking after getting out.

How still he’d looked, surrounded by blood and shattered glass.

“It’s hardly your fault,” Time finally replied. “I’m so sorry we weren’t able to free you sooner.”

“You did what you could. I didn’t even know those bottles could break, that was impressive,” Warriors admitted, his expression unreadable. “The light arrows were a good idea. Thank... thank you,” he said in an even softer voice. His shoulders gave one quick shudder, and Time hated how it made him feel. “For getting me out of there.”

Time swallowed, and leaned forward, lightly setting his head against Warriors’s. ”You would do the same, big brother.”

Warriors gave him a hint of a smile, and Time held him just a little closer as they leaned against each other.

They would still need to have a proper discussion of everything, figure out how the Shadow had corrupted a Great Fairy, try to make sure Warriors wouldn’t just brush over this incident like he tended to do. Warriors would doubtlessly try to avoid it, but... the discussion could wait.

For now... Time just wanted to enjoy standing here in the sunshine. The battle won, the danger past.

Warriors closed his eyes, and Time drew him into a proper hug, Warriors letting out a shaky sigh as he let himself be held.

His brother alive and safe beside him.

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Touched

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 13 | Prompt: "Stop touching me! / I'm not touching you!"

Summary: Tech has nerves of steel - well, most of the time. POV: Tech Rating: G (Word Count: 989)

Read on Ao3

            Tech felt something brush across his neck before a weight settled on his shoulder, and he sighed in annoyance.

            He and his squadmates were on their third assignment since graduating and being sent out to the field, and while all of them had gone through plenty of simulations to prepare them for survival in wilderness areas, this jungle planet in particular had made Wrecker more than a little jumpy – especially at night. And of course Wrecker somehow always ended up sleeping right next to Tech when not on watch duty, no matter how often Tech rearranged things when they set up camp for the night…

            “Wrecker,” he hissed in an undertone, “would you kindly refrain from touching… Oh.”

            Having turned his head to look at his shoulder, he cut himself off mid-sentence upon finding it was not the weight of Wrecker’s hand that he was feeling.

            Wrecker snorted sleepily. “What’d I do now?” he whined softly, clearly only half awake.

            Tech gingerly reached up to coax the creature onto his other hand before holding it up close to his goggled eyes for study. This must be what the natives called a tero spider, one of the species of Theraphosidae he had read about when researching the squad’s assignment. These in particular were non-venomous arachnids and by all accounts quite docile, though large and frightening enough in appearance that Tech knew Wrecker would never be able to sleep for the duration of the mission if he knew these could be scuttling around the campsite.

            “Nothing, Wrecker,” Tech replied as he tapped his goggles to capture some recordings of the creature now sitting contentedly in his hand. “Go back to sleep.”

            ***

            Tech, eyes narrowed in concentration as he studied his datapad while making his way along the path leading down to the shore, stopped when a hand gripped his arm, and gave a long-suffering sigh.

            To help Shep and the engineers on Pabu plan out the rebuilding efforts, Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega had volunteered to scope out the extent of the damage the tidal wave had wrought on the docks and shoreline properties, with Phee opting to join them. Tech was well accustomed to the friendly punches on the shoulder Wrecker was wont to give him whenever Wrecker became overly enthusiastic or wanted to emphasize a point or draw Tech’s attention to something, and normally this didn’t bother Tech; but with all the recent excitement of being on Pabu and meeting so many new people, Wrecker had felt the need to emphasize and bring attention to so many things that Tech had just about reached his limit with his brother touching him.

            “What is it now, Wrecker… Oh,” he broke off in confusion as he looked up to discover it was Phee who was resting her hand on his forearm.

            He was suddenly grateful he hadn’t acted on the impulse to step back and shake off what he had thought was his brother’s grip, though it currently felt like his heart had leaped into his throat – a most peculiar sensation.

            “What’d’cha say, Tech?” Wrecker now asked as he came up from behind with Omega and Hunter.

            “Nothing,” Tech returned automatically as his siblings stepped around him to forge ahead on the path leading to the right. He now recognized he was feeling the same sudden rush of startled adrenaline he had felt forty-two hours ago when Phee had touched his shoulder while giving him the coordinates to Pabu; the fact that he had had the same reaction every time Phee had been in physical contact with him was a pattern lending to his current hypothesis that he felt more deeply about Phee than just as one of his family’s allies…

            “Something wrong?” Phee queried, raising one brow at him.

            “No,” he said, realizing he was in a quandary: he desperately wanted to move but instinctively knew that if he did, she would break contact, and so here he remained, frozen in place.

            “Okay then, just wanted to let you know we’re supposed to be heading this way,” she said, gesturing with her other hand to indicate that Tech had been about to take the wrong path. “You’re gonna get yourself lost with your attention on that datapad all the time,” she added with a small smile.

            His racing heart and the nervous heat building within him would soon manifest in a blush if he didn’t compose himself soon, and that would be humiliating. Research, constructing devices, and sharing his knowledge were the main non-combat areas in which he felt most comfortable; since there was nothing to engineer at the moment and Phee seemed to think he should put down the datapad for now, that left talking as his best option.

            “Since this datapad is equipped with various navigation and positioning systems, it would be nearly impossible to get lost while using it. Besides, all clones have an excellent sense of direction – it is part of our bioengineering.”

            Phee rolled her eyes at him but still smiled as she stepped away, letting her hand drop from his arm – to both his great relief and disappointment.

            Well, at least he could move now… though he found himself wondering when, if ever, he would be daring enough to initiate physical contact with her outside of life-and-death situations like tidal waves…

            “Are you suggesting I don’t know where we should be going?” Phee was saying lightly.

            “Well,” he said, still desperately trying to recover from the feeling that he had just had his feet knocked out from under him, “given that you are much better acquainted with the layout of this island than I am, I am inclined to follow your lead.”

            Phee chuckled now. “Let’s stick together, then, shall we?” she said, playfully shouldering him before starting back down the path.

            He was finally feeling more settled, though he couldn’t hide a small smile as he matched her pace. “Indeed we shall.”

@summer-of-bad-batch

[macgyvermedical]

Med school teaches a lot about handling various conditions with all kinds of medication and equipment etc. but so little on what to do when there isn't access to any ( in the middle of the highway in a movie bus/car with a first aid box consisting of a few band-aids. Or in the middle of a forest or a remote lake or beach.)

So what can we do in these situations when people look at you (as a known healthcare professional).

Eg: a case of anaphylaxis and no epi-pen, case of ureteric colic due to a kidney stone. Or something very acute.

There are a couple of ways to look at this. The first is from a first aid sense, the second from a broader medical sense.

The first aid sense:

One of the best things you can do is take a Wilderness First Aid course or get your Wilderness EMT. I know it seems like you'll be learning a lot you already know, but I promise- first aid (and particularly wilderness first aid) is so so different than the kind of medicine you learn in med school. These courses teach you to make decisions in contexts where you're thinking about safety of a group, how and when to go for help, and what basic things you can do about the most common illnesses and injuries in a wilderness or remote setting. Mostly, it gives you permission to improvise in a way that med school doesn't.

The broader medical sense:

This one is tougher to fit in a tumblr post, because I've been studying this my whole life and honestly I know there's still so much to learn. Think of low-resource medicine as an entire medical specialty. You could fill an entire residency program with the information you would need to provide high quality medical care in low-resource environments.

In order to improvise, you need a lot of knowledge about the subject area. You need to know how bodies work, and you need to know how and why they break. Med school is great for this.

You also need to know how to figure out how a body has broken. Hopefully, you got a class or two about physical exam skills. This is a great jumping off point. A lot of these skills were perfected in the 1930s-1970s, so getting a physical exam (AKA physical diagnosis) textbook from this era will give you a much deeper dive into how to figure out how a body has broken without a CT scan or a lab test.

Then you're just going to need to amass knowledge. One of the best ways to do this is to, as you encounter medical problems in your patients, ask yourself: "What did we do before we had the current treatment for [illness or injury]?". Talk to older doctors and ask them what treating __________ was like when they were going through residency. People love to talk about this stuff. If you can find someone who was in residency in the 1960s or 1970s, you're in for a real treat.

I would also highly recommend you find textbooks like Improvised Medicine by Kenneth V Iserson (designed for doctors) or Where There Is No Doctor by David Werner (designed for lay people who need primary care). Also, because a lot of low-resource care is nursing care, I recommend Barron's The Complete Guide to Home Nursing by Diana Hastings. All of these are available on Internet Archive if you want to sample them before you buy.

[probablyasocialecologist]

“Under the most ambitious climate change mitigation scenario, food production is expected to decline by up to 25%,” the report reads. “Ambitious combinations of measures, including reducing food waste, using arable land to grow crops for direct human consumption rather than livestock feed (and thus implying a dietary change), and increased productivity on remaining farmland, could fully mitigate expected reductions in food production.” After the UK left the EU, farmers were no longer part of the Common Agricultural Policy subsidies scheme, which paid land managers according to the acreage they farmed. Instead the devolved nations have set up their own farming payments system. In England, this is the sometimes controversial Environment Land Management Scheme (ELMS), which pays farmers to make room for nature by letting hedges grow wilder, or sowing wildflowers for birds and bees on field margins. Anecdotally, farmers taking part in the schemes have noticed more wildlife, but until now no data has been available. The new government studies found that more mobile creatures, such as butterflies, moths and hoverflies, fared better when larger areas of land – a large farm or multiple small neighbouring ones – were involved in the scheme. Surveyed squares with high levels of eco-friendly schemes in the surrounding landscape had on average 117 more butterflies (a 53% increase), compared with the average for squares with low scores for schemes in the surrounding landscape. There were an average of 12 more moth species in areas with more eco-friendly schemes. Smaller, less mobile insects were boosted in smaller, more local areas signed up to the schemes. Numbers of barbastelle and Daubenton’s bats were also found to respond positively to eco-friendly schemes at the landscape level. Martin Lines, CEO of the Nature Friendly Farming Network, told the Guardian: “The evidence in the Natural England report confirms what many nature-friendly farmers are finding: delivering good-quality habitats, supported by public money, is helping to stop nature’s decline or even reverse it. Many farmers are pleased that their hard work is showing positive results, and with the support of well-funded ELMS, more farmers can deliver or help reverse nature’s decline.”

9 August 2024

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: The Cult of the Wyrm Eternal

Any adventurer, alchemist, or awestruck child can tell you that there is power in the body of a dragon, and like all sources of power it's only a mater of time before someone comes along to try to capitalize on it.

Enter the Cult of the Wyrm Eternal, which emerges from long buried vaults to dissect the bodies of dragonkind like flesh eating beetles. The cult originated from a time beyond remembering following the teachings of a profane text known as the Har'Khon Libram, which survives into the modern day as a sort of how-to manual for those seeking forbidden knowledge allowing them to revive the cult's practices and discover its caches of lost power.

It's in this manner that the cult has survived millennia and numerous purges at the hands of heroes, holy orders, and oligarchs: With each iteration caching away knowledge and resources for acolytes they will never meet.

Hooks:

A prominent dragonborn hero and ally of the party disappears, leaving behind few clues and a mystery to solve. Lacking a true dragon to carve up for ingredients the cult abducted the dragonborn and plans on sacrificing them after a gauntlet of strange rituals intended to suffuse their flesh with power.  Its a race against the clock for the party to find their friend before there’s nothing left of them but a grisly scattering of magical items bound for the cult’s armoury. 

The local warlord has a new pet, a young dragon provided to him by the cult in exchange for his protection and material support. Tales of him riding out to wreak destruction from its back send shivers of terror through the populace. What a surprise then when the party encounter it in the wild, rampaging aimlessly after  slipping her bonds.  Brainwashed by cult doctrine the parry find themselves  negotiating with a creature with the drives of a caged tiger, the volatility of an abused teenager,  and the destructive potential of an artillery battery.  Talking her down will be as difficult as diffusing a bomb, but they might just come away with important information or even a new ally should they help her evade recapture.

Using knowledge purloined from the mysteries of the mother hydra herself a cell of the Wyrm Eternal has been working on a ritual to create a true dragon, experimenting with drakes, basilisks and other reptilian monsters, filling the wilderness with bounty worthy monsters that will inevitably bring the party crashing into their lair.

Background: The knowledge contained within the Har'Khon Libram is cursed, part of a scheme by the book's original author in an attempt to evade both death and those who hunt unlawful immortality. Reading the book not only imparts the authors knowledge upon the prospective cultist, but also a vestige of their cosiouness, which steers them towards the same course of action that has kept the cult alive for so long: constructing more vaults, hoarding draconic power, and propogating the Libram's knowledge so that the infection can spread through time.

Hidden in the depths of each vault are tablets of further tainted lore, which causes the seed of malign presence within the Wyrm cultist's mind to blossom, opening their mind to the space between life and death and allowing their patron's thoughts to swirl into their own. In this way the party can end up fighting the same villain through many proxies, the unseen master of the Wyrm eternal studying them as they cut down vessel after vessel before formulating a counteroffence.

Dungeon Dressing:

Wyrm Eternal vaults vary by the culture that originally constructed them, but are always in remote, sheltered areas that could endure largescale devastation. Their entrances are hidden and warded against intrusion, protected by magical cyphers that can usually only be broken with aid from the Har'Khon Libram. Vaults can also contain these doors within, locking away the greatest treasures until the acolytes have further tainted their thoughts with the Libram's curse.

Undead are ubiquitous within dungeons claimed by the Wyrm Eternal, ranging from simple servitors to looming guardians to dragonbone infused war machines just waiting to be unleashed on the cult's enemies all with green corpsefire flickering in their heads. Access to these undead armouries and the arsenal of magical items that come with them are one of the primary drivers for individuals to become cultists in the first place.

Each vault will likewise contain preserved pieces of dragongore, ranging from single skulls placed on altars to whole cellars filled with blood magically preserved in clay or glass vessels. If a cult cell reached full operation, it's likely to have atleast one mummified corpse preserved in an onsite tomb, it's vital organs ( and perhaps a few spares) preserved in canopic jars waiting nearby.

Art 1 Art 2

[skyyguy]

13. "Can I touch you? Please, I want to help you." for the Eighteen Aches ask if it inspires you 🥰?

Prompt This took me a hot second, and you can blame @hogans-heroes for this.

He’d been warned, of course, Benny had told him, but he hadn’t expected it. Not to be so bad, anyways. Gale, drinking? Ya, sure, a bottle of beer, a glass of whiskey, maybe. He hadn’t expected to see the bottles lined up, long empty, the half finished, just opened bottle at the end of the line. John bit his lip, studying the kitchen, trying to keep himself contained. It wouldn’t do any good for him to break down, not when it was clear Gale was already doing that. They could only afford one break at a time.

Gale had run out the back door the moment John had walked in the front, and John had frozen in place when he’d entered the kitchen while trying to chase the blond. Marge had tried to warn him too, told him this was far beyond anything he was imagining, but John hadn’t listened. She hadn’t seen Gale in the Stalag, hadn’t seen him on the March, hadn’t seen the way his cheeks sunk in and his ribs burst out, the way the hope and light drained from him within the first 10 minutes of the day until it was never even there as they woke up.

John thought he’d already seen Gale through the worst days of their lives.

He was wrong.

Taking in a deep breath, John turned away from the whiskey bottles lining the counters, the table, pointedly ignored the empty Lucky Strike boxes crowding a corner around an unemptied trash can, and made his way out the back door, following Gale slowly, making sure his foot steps could be heard.

But Gale wasn’t on the back porch. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. A spike of panic ran through him— and he knew it wouldn’t be the only one— and he grabbed the handrail in an iron grip. Gale’s house backed up to a huge, wooded area, and he knew just how much of that the blond owned. He didn’t know, however, how much of that the blond knew. And that was more concerning. John had always been good at making do if he needed to, but he wasn’t exactly peak wilderness explorer, and the idea of stomping around the woods after Gale didn’t excite him any. Especially because if Gale didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, John forced himself to release the tension in his shoulders, letting them sag, as if under a tremendous weight. He would have to wait for Gale to come back on his own, and he could only hope that would be soon. John went back inside, looking more critically around the kitchen, finding it alarmingly bare of actual food. Maybe, in the wait, he would try to get some groceries… But he didn’t want to leave and risk Gale coming home, only for this to happen again. He considered an empty bottle for a long moment, weighing his options.

In the end, John himself was hungry, and he wasn’t sure that Gale would come back anytime soon. A quick run into town, to the supermarket, couldn’t hurt. He’d leave a note and hope that, if Gale was back, he’d be calm by then. Finding paper was another story, but once it was found, a note was hastily scrawled onto it, and the paper was tacked to the cabinets right inside the door, John grabbed his truck keys and shuffled his way out, a small list of essentials tucked into his breast pocket.

Gale wasn’t back when John carried the boxes of groceries in, and he sighed, worry clawing at his belly in painful, insistent strokes. It was nearly getting dark, and John had heard how cold it could get in the Wyoming mountains. While Gale’s house wasn’t quite in the mountains, they were a backdrop, and John figured that still applied. Trying not to worry, John started making something for dinner— though his culinary skills had taken a hit with the coma— humming to himself as he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until finally the front door opened. Shut. The sound of boots, hesitantly, crossing the mudroom, the living room, stopping in the kitchen doorway.

“Hi,” John started softly, blinking at Gale. Gale froze, eyes wide, staring back.

“No. No, no, no, I got rid of you. I stopped… You were gone,” Gale forced out through frozen lips, grabbing the door jamb for support.

“I ‘unno what you’re talking about Buck, but I’ve never been gone,” John replied slowly, getting to his feet. He wanted to close the distance, to wrap Gale in his arms and hold him close, hold him tight, as if by doing so he could fit all of Gale’s broken pieces back together again. The look on Gale’s face gave him a pretty good clue as to how that would be received. He wondered if maybe, this time, Gale was too broken for even him to fix. If maybe, this time, Gale wouldn’t let him try to fit the pieces back together.

“I left you,” Gale whispered, his voice cracking over the words, face falling, as he looked away from John. It felt like all the air was sucked out of the room in a moment. He didn’t need Gale to elaborate, he knew exactly what the other meant.

“You didn’t,” John whispered in reply, taking a half step towards Gale. Gale flinched and John froze.

“I did. I ran. You died,” Gale’s tone was horrified and he wrapped his arms around himself, looking small.

“You ran, because I told you to. I wanted you to, Buck…” John trailed off, watching Gale shake his head.

“I left you. You got shot.”

“You did. I did. But that’s not on you, Buck.”

“Wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t ‘ve left,” Gale argued quietly, looking like he was collapsing in on himself. John bit the inside of his cheek, watching carefully. He wanted to run forward, to support Gale, to keep him from falling to his knees.

“You don’t know that,” John shot back, “goons couldda shot me any time they damn well pleased, with or without you.”

“They shot you because I ran, Bucky,” Gale snapped, though he immediately shrank back in on himself, shoulders raising towards his ears.

“I don’t care,” John replied before sucking in a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, aware that might not actually be helpful. Gale screwed his eyes shut.

“I stopped drinking, stopped smoking, why are you here?” the blond asked, voice small and scared, and John felt his heart breaking beneath his ribs. Benny had told him Gale had been seeing things, Marge had told him that he was seeing John. He knew, it just didn’t make hearing it any easier.

“Buck…” John started, trying to take a step forward, hands up to try to pacify the other. Instead, Gale jerked back, backpedaling quickly, only to trip over himself after a few steps. John lurched forward, trying to catch Gale, but the blond had gained too much ground and he fell, his head whacking against the edge of a small table.

“Fuck. Buck.” John was by his side in an instant, terror on his face, “hey, Buck, hey, stop, hold on,” he said frantically as Gale tried to get up, “Can I touch you? Please, I want to help you."

“You’re not real,” Gale ground out, trying to shift away from John, grimacing at the pain that sparked through him. He touched the side of his head, his hand coming away bloody, his face paling at the sight.

“Gale,” John said firmly, making the blond flinch, his eyes fixing on John. His gaze was hazy and disoriented, and John was worried he’d hurt himself badly, but he could still see the sharp edge of panic under the haze, and he knew he had to move slow, couldn’t even think to suggest a hospital, would have to make Gale know he was okay before anything.

“John?” and it sounded like a question. John’s expression softened.

“Can I touch you?” he asked again. Gale hesitated but finally nodded— though he winced in pain immediately after. John reached out slowly, wrapping his arm around Gale’s shoulders and helping him sit up, unsure if the way Gale’s face crumpled and tears sprung to his eyes was good or not.

“You’re real,” Gale muttered against John’s shoulder, taking a deep breath in, the warm scent of cigarettes and John’s cologne expanding in his lungs.

“‘Course I am, dove, ‘course I am,” John comforted him, running a hand down his spine. He could feel, even through Gale’s coat and shirt, every vertebrae, every bump, and John grimaced to himself. The others had all told him Gale had never recovered his weight from before the Stalag, but he hadn’t understood just how literally they meant it. When he felt the hot damp of Gale’s tears against his shoulder, John bit his tongue, keeping his surprise to himself. Gale didn’t need that right now.

“I… I left you.”

“You saved yourself,” John argued, not really wanting to rehash it, but willing to if Gale needed it.

“I’m sorry,” Gale gasped out the apology, his voice cracking over a sob, the only indication other than the wetness on John’s shoulder that he was crying.

“Don’t be, dove, I wanted you to.”

“You’re real. You’re alive.”

“Yeah, baby doll. Yeah. I’m real. I’m alive. I’m right here.”

[389]

Mt. Graham Wilderness Study Area, AZ. 2023 © Serge Levy

[mutant-distraction]

Brienne Christopher Bull

Mammatus clouds over Ah-Shi-Sle-Pah

Wilderness Study Area in New Mexico

[evilphrog]

Can you imagine you grow up on a farm, out in the wilderness, with very little access to any kind of amenities. You get out, because of your intelligence, and spend your whole life studying one particular topic. Learning about it is your passion. You don't advance very far, because other people keep stealing credit for your work and you don't have the social awareness to stop them. But you are still much better off than you started, so you let it go. Then a man shows up, who is not just interested in your favorite topic, but is the living embodiment of it. On your first outing, back to the area you grew up, he gives away very expensive items to save people just like your family. He doesn't see this as generous, just a basic expectation. He offers you up the reward and credit for the work you did together, when he could have kept it all for himself with no consequences, and he technically lost a large amount of money on this job because he gave it away to strangers. He asks you out to lunch at your favorite restaurant. After you finish eating, he goes behind the counter and gets a job for the evening, because learning about his favorite topic is his passion.