#Surface Preparation Abrasives

[businessbloggs]

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[anthurak]

Something I was always a little concerned about in the lead-up to Hazbin Hotel was that Charlie was going to be a bit too passive of a character, ie; leaning only into the ‘kind, optimistic Disney-Princess-in-Hell who just wants to help everyone’ vibe and not really have much else going on as a character. Which in turn would make her feel kind of bland next to the big, over-the-top or dramatic personalities like Angel Dust and Alastor.

But thankfully, that is not what happened and there’s actually a lot that I like about what the writers are doing with Charlie, particularly in the potential future development and reveals they seem to be setting up.

First off, I like how Charlie generally comes off more like an over-the-top caricature of that ‘Disney-Princess-in-Hell’ vibe, ie; SUPER energized, enthusiastic, affectionate and emotional, often to overbearing degrees that get on everyone’s nerves. It’s generally funny, or at least amusing, and lets Charlie stand out alongside the other big personalities in the cast. Funny enough, she’s actually a lot like Blitzo in this regard, minus the seesawing into extreme abrasiveness.

And more importantly, we’ve already gotten major hints all but confirming that this over-the-top personality is largely a façade, and that Charlie actually has some very clear issues and baggage that she’s working VERY hard to keep buried beneath the surface. Again, much like Blitzo.

Like how in the trust-fall exercise in episode three, despite asking everyone to reveal something personal, Charlie actually bullshits just as hard as Angel Dust and Sir Pentious with her whole ‘I love you all!’ bit. Sure, it’s not like she was lying or being insincere, but it’s clear that was NOT something truly personal for Charlie. And in episode 4 we have Husk straight-up calls out Charlie as ‘wanting to solve everyone’s problems but her own’.

Then of course we have the brief glimpses we’ve seen of Charlie getting angry. Both the times we’ve seen Charlie dealing with some truly despicable and horrendous characters, we’ve seen that rather than lacking the ability to get angry, Charlie is often working to hold herself back. In both her encounters with Adam and Valentino we see points where Charlie is clearly NOT intimidated or afraid of them at all and seems fully prepared to throw down, only being stopped by reigning herself in or by someone else (in this case Angel) stopping her.

Again, it all paints Charlie’s big, bubbly, hyperactive exuberance as something of a front, a way for her to bury a lot of thoughts, feelings and general baggage she doesn’t want to face. Just like what the show has already explored with Angel and Husk.

It actually raises some interesting questions as to what’s REALLY driving Charlie in running the hotel and trying to help Sinners. For one, Husk has already pegged Charlie as ‘wanting to solve everyone’s problems but her own’. And going back to thematic crossover with Helluva Boss, I can’t help but see some potential parallels between Charlie creating the Hazbin Hotel, and Blitzo creating Immediate Murder Professionals.

I think it’s pretty clear at this point that half the reason for creating I.M.P. was as a coping mechanism for Blitzo, or rather the assassination business in general. Something that we’ve gotten hints to as early as the second episode in Blitzo’s back and forth with the Robo-Fizz (“Does anyone love you, Blitzo?”/“No. But I’m really good with guns now!”). With the other half of the reason Blitzo created I.M.P. clearly seems to be to create a surrogate family, as seen with how much he tries to insert himself in the M&M’s lives. Possibly even a specific attempt to replace the family he unwittingly destroyed fifteen years ago.

So I really have to wonder if we’re going to find out that Charlie creating the hotel and her goal of redeeming sinners is in part likewise a coping mechanism and escape for her own baggage.

It’s actually really interesting how episode two first introduced the idea of people opening up with Sir Pentious, then episode four dived further into the concept of the walls and fake personas people put up to hide from their pain and trauma with Angel Dust and Husk. With those two opening up and starting to let their walls down to each other, and by extension we the audience, I think it makes Charlie’s own façade all the more noticeable. It’ll be pretty interesting if Charlie actually winds up being the toughest nut to crack when it comes to opening up about their real issues and baggage. Yet another interesting trait she shares with Blitzo.

All in all, I’m really liking what the show has been doing with Charlie as a protagonist. And I’m REALLY interested to see where the story is going to take her.

Particularly what’s going to happen when she reaches a breaking point…

[gtgbabie0]

Scraped knees and warm baths

{Cregan Stark knows how to take care of his wife}

I’ve been wanting to write for him so bad, I just haven’t had the time to write for any hotd characters recently, anyway hope you enjoy!! 💕💕

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You hadn’t meant to stay out so long, just for a small walk, you told yourself however time seemed to slip away from you, as you took in the serenity of nature, how the packed snow crunched underneath your feet, or the soft joyous melodies of birds, the crips air filled your lungs and it felt refreshing, it was good to get out the castle.

However it came with its dangers, ice, and somewhere along your journey you had lost your footing, slipping with a gasp against the stony path your palms grazing against the ragged surface along with your knees, just your luck, you think standing back to your feet with a huff.

And while you take your calm stroll outside Winterfell castle walls, Cregan was losing his mind, going mad with worry as he searches for you frantically and you’re nowhere to be seen, your absence sends his mind spiralling with horrid thoughts.

“She can’t have gone far my lord, I’m sure she’ll return… eventually” Maybe it’s the lack of worry in his tone or the smug smirk that teeters on his lips that sends Cregans’ skin tingling with anger as he turns to the guard.

“Ser Duncan I suggest you go help the rest of the men prepare- no one sleeps until my wife is found” he snaps walking closer to him, “Do I make myself clear?” He asks, trying to bite back the concern that sits on his tongue.

“Of course, my lord” and with that Cregan walks over to the stables a crease haunting his brows as he racks his mind for where you could possibly be.

“Lord Stark! She’s been found!”

Cregan is quick to look over and sure enough there you are, an overwhelming feeling of relief washes over him as he looks at you, bright-eyed with a giant smile, your dress stained with mud and he runs over to you, wrapping your shoulders with one of his furs protecting you from the harsh northern winds.

“Silly girl” he murmurs, urging you into his arms tightly.

You can hear the unease that weaves through his tone and it nips at your heart making you feel a little guilty, "I'm sorry" you whisper.

he pulls away slightly, looking at you with gentle eyes before turning around, “Lyra prepare a hot bath,” he says and she nods curtly, turning on her heels.

You silently scold yourself for causing so much trouble as you look around at all the men and women gathering around, you didn’t realise you were gone for so long, his hand rests on the small of your back leading you back to your shared bedchambers.

“I almost had the whole north searching for you,” he tells you, his big hands cupping either side of your face and he just can’t bring himself to be mad at you, the way you smile so sweetly at him, “I reckon you’ll send me to an early grave my dear” he sighs pressing a kiss to your forehead.

His hands reach for yours, and you gasp as fingers brush against the graze on your palm, “What? What is it- what happened?” He panics, taking your hands and studying the abrasions that adorn your palms with concern.

“It’s nothing, Cregan,” you say pulling your hands away, and before you can dismiss his worries he’s already pulling up the fabric of your dress noticing the blood that stains your knees, along with the small cuts.

“How did you manage this?” He asks, guiding you to the steaming tub, his fingers make work with untying the lace of your dress, letting the sleeves fall down to your arms and he peppers gentle kisses to your shoulder.

You giggle at the memory, “I slipped on ice, it wasn’t too bad” You smile stepping out of the dress, and you're not too sure if you're trying to convince him or yourself, your hands grasping at his arms as he eases you into the bath, the warm water soothes the dull ache in your muscles.

His hand cups at the water pouring it over your skin, “Wasn’t too bad? Look at your knees my love” he says nodding over to your knees that are pulled to your chest, he leans to press gentle kisses to them careful of the cuts, “I’ll go get the Maesters to take a look at it, don’t want it getting infected” he presses a kiss to your forehead and he goes to stand but you're quick to stop him.

“Wait- stay for a second more” you whisper and his face softens, he doesn’t think he could ever say no to you.

He sits back down on the wooden stall, picking up the small jug, “Of course my dear” takes his forefinger resting it underneath your chin as he pushes your head up slightly before pouring the warm water over your hair.

He washes you gently, peppering occasional kisses to your wet skin, “Come on my dear let’s get you warm and something to eat” he says helping you out of the tub, the water now lukewarm, he dries you off with such loving eyes, helping you change into something comfortable.

You sit by the fire humming at the pleasant warmth that surrounds you like a blanket, “Thank you Lyra” Cregan smiles as she places a hot bowl of stew on the table along with bread before walking out of the room with a nod.

“Eat something, my dear, I’ll go get the Maesters,” he says, pressing a kiss against your temple.

“Thank you, Cregan” You look up at him as his thumb brushes against your cheek, his chest blooms with love and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

He looks at you with adoration in his eyes, “Of course, anything for you” and you swear your heart stops at his love, the lord Stark of Winterfell, how you owned his entire heart.

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[thecuriousquest]

Hole in the Wall

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, lines blurred between dubcon and noncon, vaginal sex, degradation, spanking, possessive tendencies, slapping at the end, tearing of clothes

Summary: Bakugou finds you stuck in a wall. 🫠

Checkout my Master List here.

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“Come on. Quit playing around, dumbass. We have a job to do.”

“Bakugou…wait, I really am stuck!”

He grumbles something and wraps his arms around your waist, trying to pull you out. You can’t get out of the hole because of your breasts being in the way.

“Aw, that hurts!”

You hear him huff on the other side. “Well, the fuck do you want me to do? I can’t blast a hole through the wall. The bricks will kill you.”

“Try pushing me out through the other side.”

Bakugou blushes, realizing what you’re asking him. He crouches low, and trying to avoid looking at your ass and what’s between your legs, he turns his head to the side. He pushes against you with his shoulder.

You feel the rough brick scraping your skin, and this hurts even worse than when he was trying to pull you towards him.

“Aw!”

Your sharp cry of pain forces Bakugou to turn towards the sound, a hero reflex. His eyes land exactly where he didn’t want them to. He can’t help looking at how the black latex of your costume molds to your fine ass. The part that’s covering your most modest area completely at eye level with him.

He can’t help his wandering hands.

You feel finger tips graze over your clothed pussy, and you gasp, your thighs stiffening.

“Katsuki, what-“

You feel a hard smack against the crest of your ass. You wriggle your hips as much as you can and push against the brick wall beneath you. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! What are you doing? Just, help me get out of here!”

“It’s funny. I really was just trying to help you out, but now, I just can’t help myself. I mean, look at you. Stupid enough to get stuck in a hole. It’s almost like you want this.”

You feel him tearing the latex of your hero costume off of your body, your butt fully exposed to him now. His hands are rough from the life of fighting crime and very warm with the beginnings of his quirk.

“No, no, wait, you can’t! This isn’t right! Katsuki, we’re in public!”

“Nobody’s gonna fucking find us in this back alley. Hey! Anyone out there?! We need help! Please, anyone?!” His shouts for help are mocking, condescending to your current circumstances. You know he’s teasing you, and it riles you with anger.

You kick you feet, very aware of the toe of your combat boots coming into contact with the brick. Your bare knees taking the brunt of abrasions as they scrape against the surface.

Damnit, why didn’t you ever think of getting a costume that would be harder to rip? You’ve never encountered this problem before, but your outfit is way too convenient for him.

You feel large hands paw at your thighs, prying them apart. He steps in between your kicking legs and nuzzles himself up against your slit. The squirming of your ass against his covered cock makes him harder, the friction causing precome to leak out. He pulls himself free, and you feel the slippery head of his dick right behind you.

A tear slips from your eye as he impales you with his cock, not taking the slightest time to prepare you.

“So fucking tight. Who would’ve thought with the costume you run around in. Fucking tease. Bet you do this kind of shit to all the guys. You really even stuck in there, or are you just doing this for attention?”

His laugh makes you want to die. You wish you could get out of this hole so you can punch him in the throat.

His hands spread your plump ass cheeks even further apart, making the penetration even deeper, making your pained whines turn into sloppy mewls. You want him to stop, so why does it feel so good?

You hang your head in shame. You feel like you shouldn’t be enjoying this, but there’s this little spot in your walls that he keeps rubbing against.

His fingertips press deeper into your ass cheeks, and you’re sure there will be bruises later. He laughs at your pleasured sounds.

“Uh huh, someone’s having fun. Little fucking slut. Some fuckin’ eye candy in that tight ass body suit. No idea how much I’ve always wanted to tear that little number off of you and let you walk home covered in my marks.”

He sets off his quirk against your bruised bottom right where he’s holding your cheeks open. The small explosion causes a nasty, naughty sound to emerge from your lips.

“Oh, God, Bakugou!”

“Yeah? You like that? Fuckin’ pain whore. Look at you begin’ for me. Bet you like having your hair pulled too.”

Another sharp smack cracks down against your backside, this time, paired with an explosion that feels worse than the last one.

Your hands fall limply in front of you. You feel heavy with all of the stimulation. It’s as if rocks are weighing down your body, and you release that pent up feeling between your legs.

It all feels like a rush, like a tidal wave crashing over you from head to toe.

And then Bakugou huffs one loud chuckle at your reaction to his sexual pleasures.

“Came that easy, huh? That’s alright. I’ve got plenty of time to make it happen again.”

Oh, and he does. He fucks into you, hips pumping fast. Each time he ruts into you, he groans with excitement. His wandering hands can’t help but squeeze that fine ass underneath his fingertips. Everything about you is wonderful to him. It’s as if you were made for him.

You come just before he does as he gives one last thrust before bottoming out. He pulls away from you, letting go of your ass as he adjusts his clothes. He watches a mix of his and your come spilling out of your throbbing pussy.

Bakugou decides to snap a quick picture, stuffing his phone back in his pants when he’s done.

“Alright, you really want out? I’ll have to call someone.”

“No! Just, use your quirk! I don’t want anyone to see me like this! I’ll cover my head. I don’t care if the bricks fall.”

“Tch. Fine, but I warned you.”

The brick explodes around you, and you shield your head with your arms. To your amazement, only a small clump of brick hits your shoulder. It doesn’t even really hurt. The majority of the brick being thrown forward instead of crashing down against you.

You stand up and turn to look at the explosion hero. What do you say to someone who just had their way with you while you were stuck in a fucking wall?

Instead of saying anything, you slap him across the face…hard. You feel a sharp burning in your palm, and you really want to shake it out, but you’re too stubborn to show him that you’re in pain from inflicting it.

He grins at you with lascivious intent. He grabs your hair, pinning you against the wall right next to the rubble.

“So, you wanna play? That’s fine. I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

[sailtomarina]

Delicate

“I am perfectly fine and capable of returning to work!”

Draco frowned as he picked up the clipboard and reviewed the patient sheet, which revealed that, yes, his ears had not deceived him. Hermione Granger was on the premises. As if anyone could mistake that shrill voice for someone else. As if anyone else would consider a mild concussion, broken wrist, and several abrasions inconsequential in the face of an open work case.

He rotated his shoulders and cracked his neck before stepping into the room.

“Miss Granger.”

She went mute, mouth hanging open and eyes wide in astonishment at the sight of Draco Malfoy dressed in light green healer robes, a St. Mungo’s badge with his credentials pinned to his chest. If he had known his presence was all it would take to silence her, he would’ve entered sooner.

“It appears you have several injuries stemming from moderate to mild, but I’d still like to do a few scans of my own. Will that be alright with you?” Draco kept his voice as professional as possible in the soothing tone all staff had been trained to use. Rather than calm her, his voice seemed to snap her back to life, as she stiffened her back and squared her shoulders in what might have been preparation to attack. He would have none of that.

The instant she opened her mouth, Draco whipped up one hand to insert a tongue depressor while the other waved a wand for the first diagnostic scan. He didn’t really need to see down her throat, but the tool served its purpose in keeping her indignation at bay for a few moments longer. His spell confirmed the patient sheet’s findings.

“Mild concussion confirmed.”

He removed the depressor and moved the wand downward slowly, muttering his second spell. She dutifully shut her mouth and allowed him to continue uninterrupted.

“Broken wrist confirmed. A few sprained finger joints, as well.”

Draco took a step back and ran a final scan far larger and more detailed than the previous. Hermione’s eyes darted back and forth over the information from where she sat, but kept her silence. Other than the broken and sprained injuries which pulsated a warm orange, most of the findings were a solid green indicating good health and a promising recovery.

He dismissed the scan with a flick and leveled her with his most reassuring smile. “Good news, Miss Granger. Everything looks to be in good order and we’ll have you all fixed up  in today’s visit. I do recommend keeping you here overnight for observation due to the concussion, but then you should be ready to return home tomorrow morning after a final check up.”

Her initial relief as the start of his speech transformed into surprise, then quickly to alarm. “Wait, you want me to stay here overnight?”

“That is what I recommend, yes,” he affirmed.

“Whatever for? I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and I assure you I can just as easily Floo here if I do feel any continued side effects.” The speed and volume at which she spoke increased exponentially as she blurted out the words seemingly without taking a single breath. Draco watched in fascination as her loose hair seemed to grow in size with her agitation.

“Do you live alone?” He scanned her sheet looking for any mention of a partner or family member upon check in.

“Excuse me?” she gasped. “I hardly see how that is any of your business, Malfoy! I’m not some delicate flower in need of a partner or guardian–”

She was apoplectic, shrugging off the hands of his fellow healers as they mended her surface injuries. She spat the words out in a perfect imitation of her familiar, whom he now remembered storming the castle when they were students as if the fluffy beast owned it.

He inserted his explanation in the middle of her tirade with practiced precision. “Please do not take offense at my question. I was merely making the same inquiry we make for similar cases. If you take a turn for the worse while asleep, you will likely be unable to ask for help.”

She fumed silently, unable to argue with his logic.

“So I ask again: do you live alone? Do you have anyone who can attend to you tonight?” He half expected her to name one of her infamous friends, or perhaps one of the string of hopeful suitors reported about in The Prophet. He motioned to his coworkers to continue treating her injuries.

“Yes, I live alone. No, there is no one available to watch me tonight.” She bit out the words with venom, and Draco had the sudden instinct to put up a shield. With her fingers and wrist now mended, she gripped the flat sheet over her lap fiercely. “I’d still feel more comfortable in my home, unless–” Her eyes darted around at the others in the room, before returning to his, chewing at her lip with enough force to make it bleed.

“Give us the room, please.” At his curt command, the others immediately left.

The only unfinished task was her head injury, and he stepped forward slowly with his palms held out in a placating manner. “I’m going to treat your concussion now, and you’ll feel a bit of a strange tingle, nothing to worry about.”

She watched him as he stepped into her space, only shutting her eyes once his fingers gently tilted her chin upward as if preparing for a kiss. He obliged her.

The softest brush of skin to skin, then a nibble to her bottom lip, and she parted them willingly to allow him entrance. She tasted like coffee and cinnamon and just a hint of chocolate. His free hand slowly rotated his wand where it pointed at her temple, as if he regularly snogged and treated his patients simultaneously. He knew the spell worked when she gasped at the telltale tingle.

“See? All better now.” He pulled back with a smirk fighting its way forward, an expression he usually suppressed while at work.

Her eyes opened and she blinked a few times to clear away the daze. “Is this how you treat all your patients?”

“Only my favorite ones.”

She snorted at his quick response. “Since when am I a favorite of yours?”

“I don’t take just any witch home overnight for a shag and then make her breakfast the next morning.”

“So is this hospital stay your attempt at a second date?” Hermione stared at him in that piercing way of hers. 

Draco was transported back to their recent reunion after several years of just missing one another at public functions and spaces. It was her eyes and that mouth of hers that reeled him in as an adult just as strongly as they had irritated him as a child. Going head to head with her about her work in the Ministry had turned him on far more than any of his arranged dates with Narcissa-approved socialites. Several drinks and arguments later, they stumbled through the Floo straight into his flat where clothes were stripped off and all misgivings about their past and present were shoved into a dark corner to be worried about another day. He still had dreams about the way she breathed his name every time she climaxed, and wished the nail marks she had left on his back would magically reappear.

“Technically, we still have yet to schedule a first date, unless you always include one-night stands. Also, I fail to see how keeping you bedside company in a hospital qualifies as a date.”

She fixated on the second part of his sentencing, ignoring the comment on one-night stands. “You’ll stay with me here?”

“I was planning on it unless you’d prefer otherwise. I might even be convinced to sneak you something better than the standard hospital fare of gruel and green peas,” he teased. “Contrary to popular opinion, I am quite well liked here.”

She studied him with obvious interest. “Alright then. I will stay, and you will keep me company, and then we will see where we go from there.” She held her hand out like she meant to shake on some kind of business deal.

He instead brought her hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the knuckles. Hermione’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before her mask of cool professionalism dropped into place once more. Draco fully intended to rip that facade off of her so forcefully, she’d forget to ever use one with him again.

But until then…

“Miss Granger, if you’d please follow me.”

WC 1443

[daresplaining]

opinions on the red fist saga? :0

Resoundingly negative, unfortunately. I actually only just read it, because I was having a rough time with it while the issues were coming out and so decided to put it off until I was in a better headspace for it (or until I saw a preview for an issue that excited me and gave me the motivation to catch up, which is what happened with next week's anthology issue).

As I said, I disliked this story very much, so if you aren't interested in hearing me rant (perfectly fine! I wouldn't blame you!), read no further. I really hope you liked it. I really don't want to get you down if you did. This whole run was just the epitome of Not For Me.

Ahem.

The "Red Fist Saga" is, in my opinion, a flimsy "Shadowland" knock-off, centered around the abrasive, moralizing religious zealot who has been inhabiting Matt Murdock's body for the past few years. Elektra Natchios, an incredibly complex character whom I love dearly, had her backstory savaged to remove its autonomy and complexity (that's a rant for another post...) and exists in this story as an accessory to this Matt look-alike and as a handy target of his moralizing (at one point he comes to the revelation that this recent journey she has been on has been worthwhile because it was all about God saving her from her wicked ways!!, at which point I may have blacked out from rage for a few seconds). Matt and Elektra GET MARRIED, and the implications of this massive shift in their relationship are not explored at all. And phew...the less said about Sam Chung's single scene, the better. As was true throughout Zdarsky's entire run, Matt speaks and thinks in this story like he is reading a prepared speech at all times, making grand-yet-hollow pronouncements about the nature of good and evil. He doesn't sound like a real person, but rather like a robot that has been fed a steady diet of religious texts, along with a few surface-level social/systemic reform concepts. His personality consists of being alternately sad, angry, and making lofty proclamations about "fighting evil in the service of God's plan", and I just have no emotional investment in that. I'm not Catholic (and neither, until recently, was Matt Murdock, making this whole thing profoundly weird).

There were some cool elements to this story. I'm a huge Stick fan and I'm thrilled that he is finally back from the dead after all these years. I love Stilt-Man. I love Speed Demon (for some real Speed Demon goodness, go read Superior Foes of Spider-Man, one of my favorite comics of all time). Foggy had a few good panels. I got to read Milla's name; always a treat. Kirsten didn't actually die. Mike was...mentioned (I've already griped about his death; I won't do it again here). The twist that Foggy and Stick were actually already dead was effective and very cool and I didn't see it coming at all, so I will give full credit for that. And I'm someone who genuinely does enjoy Hand shenanigans. I love that stuff when it's done well. But the degree to which I could not stand this new Matt and did not care what happened to him or what he was doing, plus the fact that I had seen all of these plot points executed already, and better, by previous Daredevil teams, meant that this story was just a protracted slog through painful writing, past scene after scene that could have been so much better in the hands of a different creative team or centered around a version of Matt Murdock who was actually a compelling protagonist.

[f1-stuff]

hi mal, hope ur having a great day!!

little mermaid au pls ❤️

also sorry about this, i rmbr you posting something about a bi charles au and a mechanic au last year and i was just wondering if ur planning to still write them 👀 absolutely no pressure though, im sorry if it comes off that way

have a great rest of your day 💛

Hi! I hopefully will pick up those two wips again, but I've already shared as much as I can of those and haven't added anything since last time 😭 so I couldn't include them this time...

BUT I can share a little more of the little mermaid one for sure ❤️

Charles pulls uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt, eventually just unfastening some of the ties so it hangs loose across his chest. He isn’t used to being clothed, therefore everything feels tight and abrasive against his skin.

He’d almost immediately tugged off the boots he’d been given once he was alone, much preferring to accustom himself to walking barefoot and feeling the ground against the pads of his feet. What was the point of finally having feet to run and jump and dance if he imprisoned them in those leather cages they called shoes?

He’d been cleaned and clothed and checked over by a doctor, all of which had been a rather intrusive experience. He’d been scrubbed and brushed and prodded and maneuvered about, then deemed healthy enough, although there was some mild concern over his difficulty walking and lack of voice. But the doctor had seemed to attribute the walking problem to sore legs from swimming ashore, as he must’ve done to survive the shipwreck, and his missing voice to shock, which he believed would return in time. 

Charles had then been shown to his quarters, which constituted a lovely, large bed and a window overlooking the sea, until such a time that they could determine who he was, exactly. Charles had almost immediately collapsed into the bed, something he’d dreamed of after discovering humans slept in nests of soft, cushy feathers, and fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. When he awoke, he had a growling belly and a thousand questions.

What all had happened in that witch’s cave? What had he agreed to? What was it he gave in exchange for legs? Just his voice? Or something else, as well? How long would he be like this? Forever? Or was he on borrowed time?

He’d decided to deal with the hunger first. And somehow, he’d found what he believed was the palace’s place for preparing food. Which brings him to now, standing in the doorway as he watches people dressed in all white, running about, food strewn across surfaces, all kinds of utensils in their hands as they slice and stir and taste.

He feels frozen to the spot, unsure if he’s supposed to be here, but unable to ask anyone where else he can find something to eat. And no one has looked his way, all of them absorbed in their tasks.

Charles is about to venture inside, when he hears a strange sort of roar-like shout, repeated over and over and getting closer. Then, he spots a hairy four-legged creature running toward him at full speed. Charles thinks he’s under attack (he would probably scream if he were able) so that when the creature jumps toward him, Charles trips backward, protecting his face as he’s clawed at.

But after a moment of expecting pain only to be met with a wet, slobbery tongue licking repeatedly over his hands and face, he realizes maybe he’s not under attack. He peeks out from behind his hands to look at the beast, whose hot breath puffs against his chin, and suddenly recognizes it as the creature the man on the ship had nearly died staying to save - the creature Charles had helped onto the boat.

The beast barks again, and Charles startles, but he doesn’t get clawed at or bitten. So he reaches out a tentative hand and scratches behind its ear. The beast leans heavily into the contact with a look of utter satisfaction on its face.

Charles smiles, warmth filling him up with the urge to laugh. He gets a lick to the face that almost knocks him onto his back.

“Piñon!” a voice calls out, and Charles looks up to see a man come around the corner.

Not just a man - him.

WIP Wednesday

[dandorime]

"Tell me a bedtime story."

"Agent?"

He was cold and wet. The generator was dead. The oxygen was running low, and the carbon dioxide was running high. Agent Phoenix had the headache and tunnel vision to prove it.

His handler's voice, ringing sharply in his ear, cut through the fog in his brain like an axe.

"Agent Phoenix, respond!" 

"Still here."

"Status report!" the voice demanded. "Is the engine running?"

"...the engine's underwater."

Phoenix heard a muffled oath and the shuffling of papers over his tiny radio earpiece.

He had never met his handler -- had never seen his face, nor even learned his name -- but he knew the man had an office somewhere in the same Agency building as he did. He could vaguely imagine a figure sitting hunched over a desk somewhere, wearing thickly-padded headphones and leaning in close to his microphone.

"Look around you carefully now," the voice advised. "First thing's first, get that cabin dry. There must be a manual pump somewhere. Find it."

Agent Phoenix stared dolefully into the seawater rising around his chest, slick with fuel oil. Even though he was beginning to float, his body felt impossibly heavy. 

His handler wasn't wrong; there WAS an emergency pump somewhere down there.

He had already made use of it 204 times.

The porthole windows, etched with cracks from every angle like layer upon layer of spiderwebs, were somehow still holding up against the mounting pressure. Phoenix let his eyes unfocus as he watched the cracks expand with short, sharp popping sounds.

"AGENT, are you even listening?!"

"No," Phoenix replied honestly. He hadn't meant to say it out loud. He wasn't trying to be abrasive.

He was just very, very tired.

The voice on the other end of the radio fell silent. The only sound in the failing escape pod was the soft swish of water infiltrating through the various breaches in its hull, deep below the surface. The pressure had nearly equalized against the air trapped in the upper third of the capsule, slowing the rise of the surface to an indiscernible crawl.

The water was up to Phoenix's shoulders when the voice finally returned to his ear.

"Agent, you must keep trying, I need you to understand: rescue is too far from your position. If you don't get that pod to the surface before your air runs out, there's absolutely nothing the Agency can do to save you."

If only he knew how long Phoenix had been trying. He'd pumped the capsule dry 204 times and started the motor 197 times.  He'd purged the air in the pod and replaced the oxygen 191 and one-half times, the half being when he was rudely interrupted by a window imploding. How many times had he caught and disarmed the grenade in the engine box? He'd lost count -- it was all muscle memory now.

After so many tries -- so many lives -- he was simply too tired to try again. 

"Agent Phoenix?"

Phoenix felt for the radio in his ear with trembling, wrinkled fingers. He thought about taking it out. About destroying it, along with the microphone, to put an end to the conversation...

"Agent Phoenix, please respond."

...but he didn't want to. He genuinely didn't want to shut off that voice, as useless and distant as it may have been. It felt comforting, somehow, to know he wasn't altogether alone. 

"Agent," the voice asked grimly, "are you still there?"

"Not for much longer," Phoenix replied, his voice husky from the tainted air.

There was more paper-shuffling in his ear, the sound of wooden chair legs scraping over the floor, and a bit of static. Phoenix was sure his unfortunate handler was white-knuckling his microphone, preparing himself for the inevitable. He still felt a twinge of guilt every time he had to drag the poor guy through it with him, even after hundreds of deaths...

"Agent, please state your intentions."

Those weren't his handler's choice of words, Phoenix knew. That was a line directly from the protocols for closing communications on a failed mission.

"I've got a request," Phoenix coughed.

They both knew he meant a last request.

"Proceed." The voice in his ear was especially somber now.

Agent Phoenix took a deep breath to find enough oxygen.

"Tell me a bedtime story."

He'd meant it as a joke. He wanted to give his handler one final laugh, a sort of parting shot to ease the pain. 

Truthfully, though, he did want to hear that voice for a while longer, or at least for as long as he had left; as the stale air lulled him to sleep, and the cold ocean filled his lungs.

To his surprise, his handler didn't hesitate to oblige. 

"I understand. Yes, I will certainly tell you a story. Um... let's see now..."

...and the story began.

"When I was a young man, I lived on an estate in Cambridgeshire, a ways into the countryside..."

As the tale unfolded, Phoenix's consciousness wavered. He let himself sink down into the water as far as he dared, taking care only to keep the radio in his ear dry. Eventually a knot gave way in his chest, and the compound stress of trying to succeed, trying to escape, trying to survive, all seemed to dissolve into the dark water around him. 

Agent Phoenix fell asleep peacefully.

(a bedtime story)

[answer2jeff]

the fatherhood theory:

my take on lip gallagher finding purpose in parenthood.

First things first, I quickly want to congratulate the writers for beautifully articulating the accuracy of Lip's initial reaction to Freddy's birth.

Tami had an extremely complicated birth that resulted in her requiring surgery. Lip, both as a new father and as a boyfriend, was legitimately terrified. He couldn't decide if he should stay with Tami or their son. His thought process probably included the possibility of the mother of his child suffering, further trailing to the fear of fatherly absence. Naturally, considering Lip's lack of a genuine father figure, contributing anything remotely resembling neglect or failure to accommodate to his son feels like the worst and most unforgivable thing he could ever do.

Secondly, I want to say that although Tami is quite different compared to Lip's other love interests, I think she was relatively realistic at the time. She has drive and compassion, and Lip loves a good sarcastic girl who affectionately ridicules the guy she loves. She's abrasive in a way that is more meant to establish her intelligence rather than actually put others around her down. Tami is also terrible at accepting criticism, but doesn't respond in the explosive anger that Lip does. She's more passive aggressive than, well...aggressive aggressive. Even though it's not quite the healthiest, it's much more flexible than rage.

In short, Lip sees a lot of himself in Tami. But, she's a more put together, determined version of him. She's the star that Lip never really turned out to be, even if she's not absolutely perfect. Their relationship is accurate for the conditions of the show (and Lip's life.) Tami doesn't give Lip a lot of opportunities to self sabotage because she's pretty much dubbed herself the lead of their relationship.

(not ignoring the fact that she said he'd be a shitty father by the way. that crushed my soul and i'll never forgive her but that's besides the point.)

Having to decide to let professionals (doctors and nurses, who he notoriously does not trust (rooted by capitalistic healthcare environments and the need for independence due to his childhood trauma), try their best to help Tami when she was literally blue and unresponsive, was difficult and extremely scary.

However, once Freddy has been properly cleaned and prepared to be held by his father, Lip suddenly finds the answer to so many of his interpersonal questions.

"I seem to have ruined everything I was once good at. Is there anything I won't automatically ruin just because I don't think I deserve it?"

Fatherhood.

"Would I be any better at this than my parents were?"

Yes, with practice.

"Would I be able to break the cycle?"

Yes, with love.

"Is it necessary for me to feel so deeply about the world?

Yes. Even if it's painful.

"And was it ever worth hiding that with anger?"

To some extent, yes. You wanted to protect yourself.

"Am I, deep down, past my inevitable quickness to rage, a good person?"

Yes. You always have been.

In hindsight, his excitement for becoming a dad seems kind of obvious considering his overjoyed and emotional reaction. But I think we can dig deeper beyond this surface level impression. Even if it's genuine and ultimately very good at showing Lip's love for his son. Something that I think really prepared Lip for the complications of parenthood was the time period during his time as a college student taking care of Liam.

He'd been surrounded by family members for his entire life that he did not trust. When Fiona, his beacon of support throughout his whole childhoo despite their complicated sibling relationship, made such a grave mistake that reflected neglect, Lip felt unsafe. Both Frank and Monica were typical offenders of drug and alcohol abuse. And they regularly dabbled in allowing these substance issues to affect their children.

Now there was really nobody in his family he could trust. Lip would have to re-learn how to fend for himself and his family. He's had plenty of experience, but he had a support system. Even if it contained his own siblings who lived the same abusive life as he did. But now that he didn't trust anyone around Liam, he literally had to become his primary caregiver.

"You're the closest thing to a dad we've ever had," said Ian Gallagher.

Becoming Freddy's father was the love that Lip needed in his life. Girlfriends are replaceable. Lip has proven this. But he always believed that once you become a father, you do not have the right to back out. And he'd always hold himself to that standard.

This is your life now. Do it right, or go to hell.

People like Lip need to have people in their lives who unconditionally rely on them. His siblings have chosen many times (and rightfully of course) to handle personal matters without Lip's advice. He hasn't gotten to feel as needed or as important as he deserved to be. Having a child, though unexpected, was the missing piece to the endless puzzle that was his life's purpose.

Lip's desire to be a good father not only stemmed from the failure of his own parents, but the fact that guiding his siblings through life was the one thing that everyone around him that everyone was convinced he couldn't do better than anyone else. (Personally, I think Fiona did a great job as an older sister. I'm more speaking from the perspectives and opinions of his siblings.)

Lip will feel love for himself through Teddy. Once he can finally succeed for the long term, he will find peace.

Not to say that he's automatically perfect, because he's not (and no one else is), but he's ready to take on the challange.

Freddy is the love of Lip's life.

And he always will be.

[slushyseals]

What is your favorite seal? Comment below!

Part of this blog's goal is to educate people about the different kinds of seals, so if you aren't sure read on and pick a favorite!

Water based Latex Popular for residential use because of the ease of application and ability to adhere to most substrates. These can be painted on and are suitable for situations where gaps / voids are very small and movement is minimal. Latex is can be prone to shrinkage and can pull away from the substrate creating gaps, allowing water to penetrate. You will often find water based latex seals in freshwater such as Lake Ladoga or Baikal.

Acrylic These are UV stable making them suitable for exterior applications, and are not prone to shrinkage. Acrylics can be difficult to apply and cannot accommodate significant movement. Contrary to popular belief, acrylic seals don't actually eat crabs!

Butyl Adheres well to a broad variety of substrates but can be hard to apply due to their stringier consistency. They have poor resistance to abrasion and struggle to accommodate movements that introduce shearing forces. They are not suitable for demanding building applications. You can find them across all of the islands of Hawaii, but don't get close because they're endangered!

Polysulfide Excellent flexibility even at low temperatures with little shrinkage or UV degradation, and can be used for underwater applications. Polysulfides are more expensive than similar sealants and have a tendency to have higher levels of volatile organic compounds (VOCs). Though, a life expectancy of 10 to 20 years does compensate for the price somewhat. When most people think of seals, these arctic animals with their fuzzy white babies are in the top three!

Silicone Has excellent thermal resistance, good dynamic movement capability and good adhesion. They can be easily vandalised and tend to collect dirt. For certain substrates (such as stone), staining may also be an issue, in some cases making the use of primers a necessity. As weather proofing and air sealing applications silicones can be used structurally e.g. for bonding glass or metal to frames. Silicones are generally the most expensive but quality silicones have very good durability performance. These seals are often seen along the shores of La Jolla beach.

Polyisobutylenes Have similar properties to natural rubber but with improved durability, good resistance to chemical attack, and have very low permeability. These are commonly used as the primary seal for insulating glazing units (IGU) as they are capable of resisting the transmission of vapour and gases. The products are normally factory applied, rather than site applied. You can find Polyisobutylene seals all over the world, and they are the origin of Selkies!

Polyurethane Adhere well to the majority of different surfaces with little substrate preparation, and are generally the go-to choice for contractors. They have excellent resilience to abrasion and shear forces as well as having strong adhesion and movement capability. When male seals of this type reach maturity they gain a scent similar to gasoline! In fact, Ponsuke is a polyurethane seal!

No singular seal is universally superior or inferior to another. Some are simply better at certain applications than others are due to their innate physical and chemical properties. But we all have our favorites!

[fioreofthemarch]

Finding Her - Chapter 13

Link makes notes, takes photos and keeps time on his quest across Hyrule, in the hopes of finding Zelda and staying sane until he does. [ Previous | Next | First | AO3 ]

Log date: 17:30. 7th month, 27th day 10AC. Location: Gerudo Desert Gateway  Weather: Hot, low humidity 

Started the week at Outskirts Stables. Picked up a few errands here and there — the Stable Trotters have lost their flutist (flautist? flutee?), one of the stablehands wanted to catch a stalhorse so for his own good I said I’d do it, and Penn, of course, had a new lead. 

We interviewed Nell, one of the Zonai researchers, who said he’d been asked by a stranger to help her find her friend. Something felt off he said. I’ve known Nell a while, since before the Calamity ended — he’s one of Zelda’s more sensible researchers, and hard to fool. Believed him right away. 

I had a hunch, and came up with a plan. Fetched a bucket of water from the stable and went in search of the woman, with Penn in tow. Found her shading under a large tree, mumbling something about her friend being lost and in danger. 

Step one: take the bucket, and upend it over the woman. Her shriek made me doubt this, but only for a moment. As she and Penn were demanding to know what was going on, I prepared step two: a Topaz Rod, recently won from a wizzrobe in Hyrule Ridge. The woman’s eyes went wide. ‘What are you doing?’ 

I said that she must recognise me, and know my name, and have heard of what I had done to Yiga like her. I held the electric rod towards her soaked clothes and assured her that I had no wish to hurt anyone, but that I knew what I was capable of, now. And that neither of us should want to find out what that was. 

The woman disappeared in a puff of smoke and in her place — a Yiga in full gear. ‘Kohga will hear of this’, they said, and then they were gone. Do I feel bad? Not sure. A little fear can go a long way, and avoid a lot of bloodshed. Still, Penn’s been nervous around me ever since. 

From Outskirts Stable, we hiked to Gerudo Canyon. Penn decided to join, having heard of further rumours of Zelda’s whereabouts. It was tough going over rocky and sometimes flooded terrain, but it wasn’t all bad: we rescued three lost travellers, and helped unblock the well at the Gerudo Canyon stables. 

I do feel bad about that. It was only after we opened the well (standard issue monster infestation) that I remembered it was Zelda who ordered it closed in the first place. We promised to come back and clear it out, but never did. Thankfully the owner didn’t seem to remember me. Or maybe, he was too polite to complain.

A photograph of the now defunct Gerudo Canyon Stables, its furniture and wears packed into large boxes. Penn is sitting atop some of them, scribbling notes for his next article.  

Caption: I hope they stay, after all. 

---

Warning: Detecting high levels of particulate matter, Purah Pad geographic sensors offline. 

Please keep the Purah Pad ports, buttons and casings free of sand, dust or other abrasives. The Purah Pad’s patented level surface visual-tactile interface is not scratch resistant, at this time.

---

Log date: 12:15. 7th month, 28th day 104AC Location: Kara Kara Bazaar, Gerudo Desert  Weather: Sandstorm. Visibility ten metres. 

Made it to Kara Kara Bazaar. Instinct says turn back. Don’t like ignoring it, when so far it’s kept me alive. 

Not far from Gerudo Canyon the trouble facing Gerudo presented itself — a sandstorm, and a big one. Can’t even tell where it ends, except that it hasn’t reached Kara Kara. If it were just a storm, I’d wait to let it pass – eat a few hydromelons, snooze by the oasis…

But it’s not just a storm. 

I’d just purchased a Gerudo headband to stay cool when I heard two Hylians arguing: You go find him! No, you go! Their buddy was missing in the storm, so I offered to help. They said he’d run off after gibdo attacked the bazaar. Gibdo? They didn’t know how to explain, their only advice being don’t get grabbed. Easy enough. I headed out and met with an ocean of scratchy brown air. Nothing but sand and cactuses and shrubs until… something moved. 

Just one at first, then more, and then they were everywhere. Shambling, creaking things with long mandibles and beady eyes. I hit one with an arrow, and then a sword, and it didn’t flinch. Then it had its hands on me, jaws clicking and oozing, inches from my face. I froze up, but instinct kicked in and I shook free, running fast as I could and stumbling over sand until suddenly it gave way and I was falling — down, down, down. 

The good news is I found Ponthos, the missing Hylian. He’d gotten stuck in a cave below a sinkhole. We made it back to Kara Kara without running into another one of those things, and his buddies were so happy they gave me an orb. Which isn’t rupees, but surely someone is in the market for… orb. 

The bad news is Gerudo Town is at the centre of the storm, I think. And the only way to reach them (and help them) is to make my way there on foot. 

A photograph of Gerudo Desert and the blanket of raging sand that covers it. A Zonai creation - a sled with a fan and steering stick attached - is poised ready to go just outside the edge of the storm. 

Caption: Maybe I don’t have to go on foot, exactly.

---

Log date: 05:35. 7th month, 29th day 104AC Location: Underground Shelter, Gerudo Town  Weather: Sandstorm. Visibility five metres.  

Arrived in Gerudo Town, found it abandoned. Snooped around until I found Riju’s diary (why do people always leave them open and so easy to read…)

She wrote of the sudden appearance of the sandstorm, the hasty evacuation of everyone into an underground shelter, and her wish to do something to help, going off to the North Ruins to train. 

We kept close contact with Chief Riju, over the years. She and Zelda had a lot in common. They were two sides of the same coin in a way; Zelda led through analysis, weighing options, evaluating outcomes, where Riju led through action, trial and error, and gathering feedback. They relied on each other a lot, and together they made it work. 

So no surprise to find Riju taking a hands on approach. She’d been working on a lightning power and just needed arrows to help her guide her focus. I was happy to oblige. When she heard that Zelda was still missing, she paused a moment, and looked back to the storm: ‘Let’s sort this mess out first, Link’.

Mess is an understatement. The gibdo marched on Kara Kara first, and then Gerudo Town. We figured out fast enough that they’re weak to electricity, it practically blows them up. Fire burns them and water turns them to mud, so plenty of options. But there’s also plenty of them, and their nests take a beating before they go down. Worse, some of them fly. Others are fast. We only survived the attacks thanks to Captain Teake’s soldiers and Lieutenant Padda’s cannons, as well as Riju’s lightning. She challenged me to a contest before each fight: whoever downed the most gibdo got the wildberry tart she’d been saving. But we both stopped counting after fifty, so we split the reward.

Now I’m here, in the underground shelter. Suppose they don’t mind a voe around so long as he saved the town. Riju hasn’t slept – she’s working on a lead about the source of the sandstorm. Will help her soon. For now, in the mood for breakfast, and keen to try the fried voltfruit they make here… 

A photograph of the painted mural in the Gerudo underground shelter, a determined Riju standing before it. She is deep in thought, a hand to her chin. There is no hint of fatigue on her features. 

Caption: Never seen a Gerudo back down from a challenge.  

---

Log date: 17:45. 7th month, 29th day 104AC Location: The Mural’s Myth (Lightning Temple), Gerudo Desert  Weather: Sandstorm. Visibility less than one metre. 

Injured. Typing with right hand. Left in bad shape. 

Made it to Lightning Temple. Three pillars in the desert, three lights, metal conduit in the middle. Hit it with Riju’s lightning. “Zelda” was there, but gone soon after. Big stone temple rose from the sand. Mural’s Myth? Probably not what it was called. 

Big bug guarding it. BIG bug – the Gibdo Queen. Not fun. Never any fun. Gotta be source of the storm. 

We chased her off, Riju’s lightning very helpful. But I got bit, left hand. A gibdo jumped me, sunk in its teeth. Hurts bad. Bandaged it up, fairy tonic didn’t do much. Poison? Hand’s burning. 

Going on anyway. Can’t leave Riju alone, can’t let Gibdo Queen escape. Hurts hurts hurts. Riju seems scared, but trying not to show it. Gotta show her we can still do this – that she can still do this. 

A photograph of the outside of the Lightning Temple, the ancient stone pyramid emerging from the sand. The photo is a little blurry, taken with unsteady hands. 

Caption: Stay alive. Just stay alive.  

---

Log date: 10:20. 7th month, 31st day 104AC Location: Gerudo Down Weather: Clear. Hot. 

Where to begin. I, Chief Riju, of Gerudo Town, am making this account, in the season of the Sun, on the tenth day of the fifth Heroine. I believe the equivalent Hylian date is attached to this log, so I will not transcribe it. 

I am pleased to report that all is well in Gerudo Town. By the Heroine’s and the Goddess’ blessing, Link is still with us. We have seen his illness before, many times. The lizalfos of Gerudo Desert often use poison as defence, but a concoction of voltfruit and electric saffina is a powerful salve, and it worked quickly to heal Link’s infected hand. His injuries there still pain him, so I have offered to keep up the task of maintaining this extensive photojournal, for the time being. 

We had just arrived at the Lightning Temple the day before last, to confront the Queen Gibdo. It was there that Link was injured, but he insisted we continue, and that I lead the way. “Your power opened this place, and your power destroyed the gibdos. I’m just a conduit.” 

And so we went on – through winding hallways, treacherous traps, and puzzling chambers, up and up through the huge pyramid structure until we at last reached the roof, and the den of that foul beast. 

She was magnificent, in her own terrible way: six segmented legs with snatching talons, a fluttering scruff from which her shrieks shook the air, and grotesque hairy wings that bent and warped in impossible ways. She, like all monarchs, was fiercely protective of her subjects — and to the death.  

Link’s strength had been waning our entire climb, and there were beads of sweat on his face that I knew were not from the desert heat. By the time we felled the Queen Gibdo – in a desperate and chaotic fight – he could barely stand. When I shook his hand to pass on my Vow, as was my sacred duty as the Sage of Lightning, I could feel him shaking. 

I admit, I don’t know what I would have done, if he hadn’t made it. I have lived with so much doubt for so long – am I doing what is right? Am I worthy of being Chief? Link’s confidence in me erased these doubts, and his perseverance was what won the day, I believe. 

After he’d recovered, needing only a day to come back from the brink of death, Link proposed a new way to hone my abilities. “The leader of the Yiga Clan is hiding in the Depths below Hyrule. I’d like your help to root him out.” I wish I could capture the look on Buliara’s face when he suggested it! But she could hardly say no — I am a Sage now, after all. 

Ah, I have never seen such a fearsome and beautiful place as the Depths. Its deadly terrain, fierce monsters and hidden treasure spoke of a land of hardship and discovery, qualities close to the hearts of the Gerudo. No wonder then that our dark reflection, the Yiga, have flourished there. Once we found them at the Abandoned Gerudo Mine, however, it was fast work to dispatch them. They had funny little Zonai contraptions that flew through the air, with which they may have been able to outrun my blades – but nothing can outrun lightning. 

Link held back, confident in my abilities. I thought it a failure when I reported to him that Master Kohga had escaped, but he was not disappointed. “The Yiga and I have unfinished business,” he said. “Hopefully next time I see them, I’ll be ready.” I assured him that he would defeat the Yiga, but he said that was not what worried him. I sensed a darkness in his voice then — the rage of a warrior scorned that the Gerudo know well — and I understood that he had restrained himself from the Yiga for their benefit, not his. 

With our immediate troubles past us, I must now do my part to find the Princess. We saw her likeness near the Temple, but I, like Link, do not believe it was really her. I know Zelda too well: in a crisis, the first thing she ever wants to do is talk. The several hundred letters we have exchanged through the years can attest to that. She would never keep away from us, unless something was very wrong. 

Zelda is out there, somewhere. I know it. It’s not where we look, but how. 

A photograph of Link relaxing on a cushioned sofa in a sunny courtyard in Gerudo Town. His left hand is wrapped in a thick bandage, while in his right he holds a sunset coloured drink garnished with wedges of fruit, in a tall glass with a thin stem and a wide brim. It’s an ice cool reward for a well-earned thirst. 

Caption: Very few women in Gerudo history have known what it’s like to have a brother, and I am one of them (he let me have a sip, when Buliara wasn’t looking).  

---

Incoming transmission… Message medallion activated. 

Answer transmission?

… …

Answer transmission?

… …

Answer—

LNK: Hello? 

JSH: Goddess be praised! Link, where are you?

LNK: Gerudo Town. Why?

JSH: No time to explain. You have to come back to Lookout Landing. Did you find the Lighting Sage? I’ve sent word for the others but—

LNK: Josha. What’s going on? 

JSH: You have to come back, as fast as you can. It’s urgent, really urgent. 

LNK: Why, Josha?. It’s not a short trip.

JSH: We— We found Zelda! She’s at Hyrule Castle and it’s really her, Link, I swear it. 

LNK: Zel…what? How?!

JSH: Dr. Purah spotted her through the telescope. It’s like the Princess is calling out to us. Link, please hurry! 

[A pause, and a sigh]

LNK: Alright, but tell everyone to be ready for a fight.

JSH: W-what? It’s the Princess! 

LNK: Just tell them to be ready. I’ll be there soon. 

Connection terminated. 

[chaibewriting]

GENERATIONAL DAMAGE

prince! enji todoroki x poc friendly! fem! reader x platonic! todoroki kiddos

content warnings: she/her pronouns used for reader, afab reader, arranged marriage, yandere behavior, dark content, death threats, abandonment issues, pregnancy mention, unedited 

word count: 6.5k (longest chapter i’ve ever written holy shit) 

author’s note: another chapter! now we’re getting into the juicy juice, this is going to start moving a little faster so please be prepared for that and don’t be surprised if smut appears soon! Also, question, do ya’ll prefer longer chapters like this or should i stick them to being 2 to 3k words per chapter? 

previous chapter chapter three masterpost  next chapter

taglist:  @easilyobessedbutflighty @rogueofbullshit @2chickenwangs  @mimi-sanisanidiot

Small, italic text = mind talk between y/n and her mother 

THE ball continued without your presence, not that you really cared about the ball in the first place, plus you had other things to worry about now that you were in the beginning stages of an arranged marriage. 

After finding your mother, a guard had come from the ballroom, urged by prince Enji, to escort you to a room where you would wait for them. As much as Enji wished to end the ball as quickly as possible, seeing that it had already fulfilled its role of finding him a potential bride, his mother had urged him it was best to continue the ball to its entirety in order to keep up appearances. It wasn’t right to abandon his guests so soon. 

Though your mother was a bit hesitant about staying any longer than she could have, she could not ignore the connection that you and the boy in your arms displayed in only a matter of hours of meeting each other. It reminded her so much of when she had first held you in her arms, the scene offered a pleasant sense of nostalgia that cleared up her reluctance for the time-being. 

You’d been brought to a lounging room of sorts where there were plenty of places to sit and relax, it looked more like a cozy meeting room than anything, which you could appreciate considering that as soon as you got in and had a seat, you kicked off your heels but hid them underneath the puffy draped fabric of your dress, shifting Dabi around in your lap as he continued to sleep with his arms loosely locked around your neck, his cheek squished against your chest. 

As you waited, your mother and you began to whisper amongst yourselves about what had transpired in the time you had been dragged away by the hotheaded prince. Whilst recounting your encounter with him, a few varying expressions crossed over her face but the most intense one was a look of concern. If he was truly that abrasive would it really be in their best interest to let her oldest child be married to him? What kind of mother would she be if she were to force her child into something dangerous and untamed? 

However, before she could even begin to scrape the surfaces of those questions that were in regard to your safety, the doors that they had come in through were suddenly swung open, revealing a still-slightly disheveled prince Enji who’s ocean eyes swam across the room for a brief moment until he locked eyes with you, observing you in silence before he fully pushed himself into the room. It was like with every step, he dominated the atmosphere of any room he entered, it made your skin itch in the slightest but you chose not to cower in fear of the powerful aura that radiated off of him. 

“Stay the night. We have much to discuss tomorrow over a morning meal,” he voiced, almost like he was giving you a choice but you knew that it was more than likely a demand, “We can get your king involved later on, as for now, we shall begin the courtship.” 

You and your mother exchange glances, speaking to one another through the use of her awakened power that allowed her to transfer her own thoughts and others thoughts into her own mind, but it only worked if there was a strong bond between her and the other person(s). 

—”Should we? I don’t know how I feel about us staying here. If he can shamelessly ask you for a fight then who knows what he could do to you while you’re sleeping.”

Though the thought had crossed your mind you brushed them away, instead focusing on other matters, and you weren’t exactly weak in the slightest so it didn’t worry you. 

“It’ll be alright, mother. Don’t worry, you did raise a strong, independent woman after all,” you chirped within the depths of your mind, puffing your chest out just a little bit. 

Though your mother had her own reservations about the arrangements, she figured that since it was your life you had the right to make your own decisions. 

“...Alright then, will we be staying in separate quarters?” Your mother asked, slowly standing up from the seat that she had sat down shortly after you had entered the room. 

Enji nodded his head at her question and then looked back at you, eyeing the sleeping boy in your arms, “Wake him up. He is not meant to be coddled for so long, you are going to spoil him.”

You raised an eyebrow at his words, wondering what kind of parenting methods he used on Dabi that made him so skittish and so… sad. Obviously, he was doing something wrong but you were in no place to question or reject him, at least not now. 

Hesitantly, you chewed on your bottom lip and rubbed Dabi’s back before speaking in a soft tone, “Time to wake up, little guy. I think you have to go to your own room now to sleep, okay?”

With a few more gentle attempts, the boy slowly opened his eyes and leaned back, sleepily looking at your face through his blurred vision. He took one look at you and then seemed to contemplate something before falling back into your chest, going right back to sleep. 

You couldn’t help but to laugh at his stubbornness, deciding it would be better to just carry him to wherever he slept instead of trying to get him to wake up. 

“Is it alright with you if I carry him to his bedroom instead? I’m not going to spoil him, I just don’t want to wake him up,” you spoke to Enji, looking at him as you waited for a reply. 

His face remained unchanging, though the look in his eyes were sporadically changing around until he ended up grunting out an answer that sounded like a “do whatever you want, woman.” 

You nodded your head after getting his permission and then shifted forward, slipping your feet back into the heels you’d kicked off before slowly standing up onto your feet. It was a bit of a struggle with Dabi in your arms but you managed, once again. 

You soon found yourself being led out of the room, your mother trailing behind you, and picked up your walking speed to match the tall man’s stride. Did he always act like such an asshole? 

You shook your head at the question and continued on your way, nearly ramming into the asshole’s back when he suddenly stopped in front of a door, pointing to it, “There. Put him in there.” 

You quickly stepped back, putting distance between yourself and the prince before following his finger, glancing at the closed door that was a little worn out. 

Pausing, you made a face but bit back whatever thoughts you had and opted for opening the door with the use of your power, stepping inside to have a quick look around. 

|| reference: https://www.deviantart.com/cavalieredispade/art/Medieval-Kid-Room-303375898 ||

Though the bedroom wasn’t as flashy as you were expecting you decided against saying anything that would irk the prince and instead focused on putting Dabi into his bed, making sure to tuck him in before you leaned down to press a kiss onto his forehead. Though it may have been a bit strange to show such affection to a stranger, you could not deny your nurturing pull to do so. 

After you’d tucked the little boy into his bed you left the room, shutting the door behind you with a sigh as you began to regain feeling in your arms. As you had been tenderly tucking in his son, Enji watched your every move with squinted eyes, trying to get a read on what kind of person you truly were. Your mother had been watching as well, nearly cooing at the scene before realizing where she was. 

Once that was done and you were standing near him once again, Enji turned away from the door and began walking back down the hallway, “Come now.” 

He said nothing else after that, silently leading you to your temporary resting place. 

Though the halls had a few lit candles mounted onto the wall, you couldn’t deny the bits of darkness that flooded the hallways, making it a bit difficult to carve out the look of the prince’s back without the use of your powers so you grabbed onto your mother’s hand to guide her along so that she would not get lost, both of you silently walking behind the prideful man without a thought in mind. 

Some minutes later, the trio had stopped once again and Enji motioned to two twin doors, “Here’s where you’ll be resting for tonight. A servant will come and fetch you in the morning so we can discuss these things further. Don’t be late.” He then swiftly turned on his heels, marching back down the hall you had all come from. 

—”What a strange man,” your mother projected to you in which you nodded your head, pressing your hand onto the door you stood in front of before you opened it and spoke, “Goodnight then, I suppose?” 

The older woman hummed in response, giving her own nod of her head, “If something happens make sure you call for me, I’ll come running.” She then gave you a determined look while raising a fist to show her strong will. 

You chuckled at her antics and shook your head, going into the room to get some much needed rest for such a long, exhausting evening. 

As soon as you had entered a wave of tiredness ran over you and you went right for the bed after shutting the door behind you. You ignored everything else and kicked off your shoes, climbing into the comfort of the bed, falling right to sleep, not even bothering to wash your face or strip out of your dress to find something else to wear. It seemed that your little sparring session with the prince had made you more tired than you expected. 

… 

When the next morning came, you remained in a deep sleep until the sun had decided to make an appearance, shining its brightest through the crack of the curtains on the window near the bed that aimed right at your face, making the inside of your eyelids turn a blinding crimson as heat came over your face. You groaned at the feeling of the temperature change and turned your face to get it out of your eyes but you had failed to remain asleep, your eyes slowly blinking as you woke, carefully pushing yourself up and off the bed until your feet touched the rug that was on the floor. 

Fully coming to, you recognized that you were not in your bedroom and tried to figure out where you were exactly, only for last night’s events to come rushing back at you full-speed, a huff coming from you as you glanced around in hopes of finding the door to a bathroom. When you spotted said door you made your way towards it and peeked inside, pleased to see that there was a sink, but you could only hope that it would work considering that working pipes weren’t exactly a common thing amongst most kingdoms inside of the castles. Fortunately, your kingdom had that luxury and there was no reason to think that the same couldn’t be said about the Ignis kingdom considering it was even more powerful than Tenebris but you did not wish to assume. 

Tentatively, you made your way to the sink and turned one of the handles, nearly yelping in excitement when the water began to rush from the faucet. You allowed it a bit of time to heat up while going on a search for any towels that you could use when you finally noticed the bathtub that was a yard away from the sink. 

Oh praise be whoever was watching you! You couldn’t wait to bathe! Even if this was an unfamiliar place and you had no clothes to change into… You’d make it work one way or the other. 

With due time you had finally managed to wash your face, get out of your suffocating dress, and bathed. Afterwards you were feeling especially refreshed but you couldn’t ignore the few faded bruises that littered your body thanks to your fight from the previous evening. Usually, after injuring yourself, you would heal fairly quickly so this was a bit odd that the bruises were lingering a little longer than usual but the pain was absent so you thought nothing of it and began your search for clothing to wear. 

Your best bet would have been to put your dress back on but you didn’t truly desire to do so you made your way over to the wardrobe that was stationed in the corner of the bedroom, nearly ripping the doors off of the hinges to get a look inside. 

Men’s clothes. 

You blinked in a bit of surprise but shrugged your shoulders, you weren’t against dressing in a pair of trousers as long as they were comfortable and fit you well enough. 

You reached for a gray pair of pants that were hung neatly onto a hanger, pulling them from where they were to have a look at them. They looked like they could fit you so you decided to try them on, weirdly enough they fit well enough that you didn’t need to tie anything on them to hold them up onto your body. Once you had put said pants on you began to look for an appropriate shirt, humming a random tune to yourself as you looked around. 

Now, the prospect of wearing pants and being a woman wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with, however, back in your own kingdom it didn’t matter. People wore whatever they so desired or whatever was available, the thought of it being unladylike barely came to mind after you had finished getting dressed, looking more like a pirate than a princess. You still looked cute though so that didn’t matter. 

Now it was on to figuring out some shoes. It would probably be best to just wear your heels for now, unless…. 

Your eyes glanced around the room once again until they landed on a large wooden chest. Perhaps, it was your lucky day? 

You eagerly went towards the chest and flipped up the top, pleased to see that it was indeed- your lucky day. Though, you were unsure if any of these would even fit your feet considering that they were all men’s shoes. Nonetheless, you were going to try. 

Not even a minute after you began to have a little shoe fashion show for yourself, a knock was heard at the door. You glanced towards the mahogany frame and made a face before speaking, “Yes? How can I help you?” 

“Good morning, Princess Y/N. I was sent here to fetch you and your mother for breakfast with the prince and queen,” a soft feminine voice said from behind the door making you remember why you were here in the first place. 

Ah! That’s right! Your potential marriage to Prince Enji! How could the thought not cross your mind even once while you’d been snooping around in the bedroom? 

“Okay, I’ll be out in a moment. Is my mother awake?” 

“Ah, I have not checked yet but I was just about to, Your Highness. Also, the prince sent me here with a change of clothes for you. He said that he was unsure of your size so he had someone make a few adjustments to a gown he purchased earlier today,” the servant said, causing you to tilt your head. Earlier today? What time was it exactly? There was no clock nearby so you couldn’t exactly pinpoint the time but you could only assume it wasn’t all that early. 

“Hm, well, you can just give it to my mother. I’ve already found something to wear,” you speak after sliding on a pair of loafers that were a little big but you were able to comfortably walk in them so that’s all that mattered. You opened the door to the bedroom and soon found yourself staring into the eyes of the source of the voice. You were surprised to see that she was around your age but couldn’t miss the hilarious look of horror and slight admiration after she took one look at your attire. 

“Good Lord!” She yelled, almost as if she had been struck by a hand that caught her off-guard. After realizing her outburst, her lightly sun-kissed face turned a bright red and she quickly bowed, the gown she held in her hands falling to the floor. “Fuck!” She cursed under her breath, reaching down to grab up the fabric of clothing. 

You could only laugh at her amusing actions, finding her to be both adorable but also daring. She then quickly looked up when she heard your laugh, her eyes widening when she realized her mistake, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to talk out of turn! I’ve just never seen a woman wear pants before! I mean- AH!! Curse you!” She began to slap her own mouth, cursing and apologizng profusely as she avoided your gaze. She was a rather strange one, wasn’t she? 

“Are you alright?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at her. If she acted like this all the time when you wondered how she’d been able to survive so long with the personality she has. 

“So sorry, it is my awakened power. I can usually control it,” she sighed, shaking her head quickly, “I don’t know why it’s acting up so much right now…” You looked at her expectedly afterwards, figuring that she would elaborate. 

“Ah, well, I have the power to take on the emotions and personality of anyone I come into contact with as long as I am compatible with their soul. I can even mimic their appearance if I try hard enough. It’s quite useless when everyone around me is incompatible. However… it seems that you and I may be compatible,” she mumbled, still avoiding your eyes as you took this new information in. 

It took you a second to fully grasp what she had said but then you laughed again, speaking up, “Then that means you were mirroring my personality? I had no idea I was so unfiltered,” you mumbled, shaking your head at the thought, “And your power sounds kind of similar to my mother’s. Ah- speaking of which…” You turned your head to the side and almost like she’d just been summoned, the door to the bedroom your mother had been in opened up, revealing the older woman who seemed to be sporting the same outfit as the day before. 

“Morning mom, sleep well?” You ask, she hums in reply but then scoffs at your choice of clothes, “Really, Y/N? Really?” 

You gaped at her reaction, pretending to be offended, “What does that mean? I thought I looked pretty stellar in these pants.” 

“You look like your dad.” 

“Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“Take it as you wish, darling… Who’s this?” 

Your mother motions to the servant whose name you didn't know had been watching the two of you converse. 

The young woman in question quickly bowed, “Hello, my name is Minji. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I apologize for not properly introducing myself earlier, princess.” 

You groaned at the title and waved your hand around, “Just call me, Y/N, alright? Being called a princess makes me feel like a child. Oh, also, do you think you could give that gown to my mom now?”

Minji leaned up and then quickly nodded, offering a warm smile before she held out the gown to your mother, offering it with a bowed head out of respect. 

“Oh thank you, dear. I wasn’t really looking forward to wearing what I wore yesterday, this should do just fine. I’ll get changed and I’ll be out in a few minutes.” The queen then carefully took the dress from Minji’s hands before going back into the room, shutting the door behind herself. 

Hearing the soft click of the door, you looked down the hallway on both sides, seeing that no one was nearby before you spoke up once again, “So, Minji. Is it alright if I ask you some questions? You don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to, I’m just curious.” 

She looks at you in surprise but then quickly nods her head, “Ask away, prin- I mean… Y/N.” 

You smiled at her correcting herself and then continued, “What’s the prince like? Is he always an ass?” 

Eyes widening at the question, Minji was surprised by your straightforward question but spoke without realizing, “Only when someone makes a noticeable mistake. We try to stay clear of him at all times in fear of what he may do if we fucked up in front of him.” 

She then covered her mouth, cursing again, “My bad, I haven’t needed to control it before…” 

You patted her shoulder affectionately before shaking your head, “No worries. I just hope no one aside from me or my mom asks you a question while the two of us are around… I can only imagine what trouble that would cause.” 

The servant immediately began to sweat after thinking of that, unconsciously looking around in a fright at the thought of cursing in front of the head servants, or even the prince or queen themselves. It would surely be punishment time. 

Before you can question her further you are interrupted by the sound of your mother’s door opening, making you turn away from the anxious servant to wolf whistle playfully at your mother. 

She rolls your eyes at you and gently swats at your arm, “Don’t do that here! We’re not at home, we have to be on our best behavior.” 

You snickered at her comment and then shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah yeah, mother. I’m just filling in for dad for now, if he saw you in this I’m sure he would do the same.” 

“Saying such things to your mother is absolutely despicable!” The older woman quietly exclaimed, acting as if she was disgusted before she offered a shy smile, “He would, wouldn’t he?” 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, ignoring the sight of your mother who was currently fangirling at the thought of your dad. You made a gagging noise and turned to look at Minji who had curiously been watching your interaction, her gaze filled with sadness as well as longing. You frowned just a fraction before speaking up, snapping her out of her daze before she could spiral any further, “I hope we aren’t late to breakfast. I don’t want the old hothead fire princey boy to get too pissed off.”

At the mention of the prince, Minji flinched when she remembered her tasks, “AH shit! That’s right! We need to hurry before we’re late!”

She then picked up a bit of her dress, to give her legs a little more freedom to move before she began to quickly jog down the hallway in the direction of what could be assumed as the dining hall. 

You and your mother looked at each other in silence before shrugging and following after her, picking up your paces. 

… 

You were late. 

Two minutes and fifteen seconds to be exact, and you weren’t the one who was counting. 

As soon as you and your mother had stepped into the room after following Minji, you could already feel the judgmental stares from one set of eyes. Not exactly the best first impression but oh well, what could you do? 

“Are you sure that is the one you have chosen as your bride-to-be?” The queen of Ignis shamelessly asked her son, staring you down with a glare that could execute anyone on the spot. You stared back at her, only then realizing the movement of her hair. It was strange to see, it appeared that her hair was entirely made of lava and the chair she sat in was especially constructed to accommodate her awakened power. The locks were oddly beautiful to look at but you couldn't ignore the owner of such beauty, nearly growling at her objectifying you. 

Enji, who has already begun diligently eating the soup presented in front of him, does not hesitate when he answers his mother’s inquiry, “Yes, mother. She is the one.” 

Minji stepped forward and motioned towards the table before going to one of the chairs to pull it out, allowing your mother to sit first before she made you sit in a chair across from Enji. Afterwards, Minji quickly bows and scurries out of the room before she can say anything that could end up getting her head put on a spike. 

Once you’d gotten situated in your seat you glanced around, taking note of the room you were in but then came to realize that someone was missing. Dabi. 

Before you can question his absence a conversation sparks up. 

“Let’s cut to the chase, I do not wish to dance around the obvious. Y/N and I’s marriage will be finalized after I am granted permission from her father,” Enji speaks up, grabbing the napkin from his lap to wipe his face, “After that, we will be married as soon as possible and then we can discuss how our kingdoms will join together to benefit one another in some way.” The male purposely left out the mention of heirs but he knew his own motives so he withheld them for the time being. 

Your mother found herself intrigued by the way he spoke, so confident, and so sure of himself. There was no way her husband would take to him so lightly if he continued to speak in such a way. She was about to question him further but his mother beat her to the punch. 

“I understand that you feel you are right in your choice but I do not think you are thinking clearly. You say that she is strong but that can be expected of their– kind,” she emphasized the last word, eyes flickering to you and your mother with a hint of displeasure, “Even apes are strong if you train them properly. I am sure we can find someone more fitting to your needs. There is no need to dirty our bloodline, Enji.” 

Ouch. Didn’t she have a way with words?

You couldn’t believe that she had the audacity to say such things so- boldly, without even blinking an eye. 

“Our kind? What do you mean by that?” Your mother questioned, as calm as ever as she ate from the food that had been served to her, looking at the other queen in intrigue. 

Eiko, otherwise known as the queen of Ignis, looked at your mother as if she were stupid, nearly doing a doubtletake before she answered, “You know exactly what I mean. You people. Your kind. You’re not like us and mingling with your kind would only dirty our pureblood of heirs. I don't even know why you were invited to our ball last night, let alone able to even sleep within these walls.”

“We were invited by your son, and it is quite unfortunate how close-minded you are. I never knew someone with such a small brain could rule over an entire kingdom. You should be proud of your accomplishments,” your mother hummed, smiling warmly at the woman whose face began to turn red with fury. 

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! I will have your tongue ripped from your mouth you disgusting spawn of hell-” 

“Where’s Dabi?” You suddenly ask, cutting the woman off without another thought. Her eyes snap to you when you speak, her teeth beginning to grind against each other as she opens her mouth to say something else, with no telling of what could come next. 

“He doesn’t eat with us. He isn’t recognized as my heir due to the fact that he was born out of wedlock,” Enji answers, completely ignoring his angry mother, instead deciding to focus his attention on you. It was his mother’s rule, really. You cringe at his words and then clench your jaw, “And who’s fault is that? Why should a child suffer due to your inability to keep your dick in your pants?” The question tumbles from your lips before you could even stop yourself, you’ve already stood up and began making your way to the doors to look for the little one who you’d begun to grow attached to in such little time. 

“Where are you going?!” The prince questions, finally losing his composure after hearing you disrespect him, “Come back here!” His demands fall onto ears that could care less and you walk rather briskly down the hall in hopes of finding your new friend. He could not believe you’d just made assumptions about his character!

It seems that Eiko has calmed, just barely, only now seeing her son being humiliated by your words. How dare you? 

Her eyes then widened, realizing something. She whips her head around to glare at your mother before smirking, sitting back down into her chair, “At least I didn’t raise a barnyard animal.” 

“Are you sure your son isn’t part bull?” Your mother quickly wits before pushing her chair back and standing, placing her hands firmly onto the table before she speaks, “I don’t think that this marriage will work out. On behalf of my daughter and our kingdom. I, Queen Rei of Tenebris, am going to formally reject your proposal. I wish you luck on finding someone desperate enough to marry your son.” After her declaration, she begins to make her way to the doors but is stopped by Enji who moves surprisingly fast for such a large man. 

“Do you think that your approval matters?” He questions, towering over the older woman with an amused expression across his face, “I only need your husband’s, and I advise—” he steps closer, causing her to step back, sensing the anger that engulfed his being, “—you to not go against my wishes. I will marry her whether you like it or not. I always get what I want and I want her. You will not stop me from producing the strongest heirs possible with her, and if you get in my way…” A wavering flame burst from his hand and he thrusted his fist forward in a punching motion, almost as if he was going to punch her in the face. And barely stopped it, a few inches from her nose, but he used enough power to make her hair blow back like she’d just been hit by a gust of wind, “I’ll kill you and anyone else who gets in my way, understood?” 

She had tried to stay strong and unbothered but to have his fist of fury so close to her face, the older woman began to tremble, realizing that his threat was not baseless. 

“And if you wish to keep your life, as well as the life of your sick husband, and your son… You will speak none of this to my bride. All you need to do is convince your husband to allow our kingdoms to join through marriage. I can promise you that I will be quite a formidable son-in-law and king. And I will have fun breaking your daughter into shape, sculpting her into the perfect wife just for me. Ah, I do love a challenge. And what a joy it will be when she is round with my heirs.”

… 

Finding Dabi in this big ass castle was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, you couldn’t figure out where to look first and no one was in sight. However, your prayers were soon answered when you noticed that familiar ravenette from before. 

“Minji!” You called, noticing her from some yards away from her, she had been waxing windows. 

Perking up at the sound of your voice, she turned to look at you in shock, confused by why you were suddenly seeking her out. Out of habit, she bowed to you and stood back up straight, “Yes?” 

“Do you know where Dabi is?”

“Dabi? Ah, yes, he’s eating right now with the other children. Is something the matter?” 

You thought about her question for a moment, trying to figure out why you had been seeking the little boy out exactly. Maybe it was because of last night, you were worried about him and wished to check on him to make sure he was alright. 

“No no… nothing’s wrong. Can you take me to where he is? I want to— see him,” you mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed about your request. For some reason, you suddenly felt a bit weird about how you were acting. You weren’t his mother… Yet, you couldn’t ignore the connection you felt. 

Minji looked over at your face for a moment but then nodded, smiling fondly before she turned and began to lead the way to where the servants quarters were. You were thankful that she hadn’t asked you anything else considering that even you did not fully understand your feelings. 

The walk to your destination was in silence but it was a comfortable one, you followed closely behind the chunky woman who seemed to be much more relaxed than she had been earlier when you had first made acquaintances with her. 

She soon leads outside and into a cottage of sorts, pushing open the doors. As soon as she enters, all eyes turn to her and then from where you’re standing, directly behind her, you hear a delighted squeal, “Mommy!” 

You can’t help but peek around her to see what was going on. You were surprised to see a little blonde boy with red wings sprouting from his back hugging tightly onto Minji, burying his face into the plush of her stomach. 

“Ahh, my sweet Kei Kei, how are you my little bird?” She softly coos to her boy, shuffling him along into the cottage so that the two of them weren’t blocking the entrance. “I’m good! Are you taking a break? Can we play?” 

When she shuffles aside, continuing her talk with her son, you come in as well and then look around, noticing the different children that filled the room, all varying in looks and height, some having mutated awakened characteristics all sitting around a long table with bowls all lined up, filled with a stew of sorts… porridge maybe? Sludge? You couldn’t tell.

You soon found the one you were looking for and called out to him, “Dabi, there you are!” The boy had stayed seated at the long table, sloshing around the mystery food in his bowl, playing with it more than eating it. However, his entire demeanor changed when he heard his name and the sound of your voice, causing him to look up and catch you in his vision, his eyes widening as soon as he saw you. 

Perhaps, it was a bit foolish to grow so attached to a stranger he had only met last night but he couldn’t help himself. The attention and affection you gave to him made him feel wanted and happy, something that he was not used to but he enjoyed it and you were the one to give it to him. 

Without a word he shoots from his seat and rushes over to you, going to hug your legs while you reach down and stroke his hair, smiling down at him with a clear fondness in your eyes, “Hi there. I was wondering where you were.”

“Dabi! Is that your mommy? Hi! I’m Keigo, I didn’t know Dabi had a mommy! I’m gonna marry Dabi when we get older, is that okay? I wanna have a BIIIG wedding and wear the fanciest suit in town! I already asked his daddy and he said that as long as I grow up to be big and strong he’ll let me marry him! Isn’t that neat? I can’t wait!” 

You looked to see the source of the questions, eyes widening in surprise when you realized that it was Minji’s son who had suddenly rushed up to you, the feathers that made up his wings seemed to fluff up with excitement as he stared up at you with joy-filled eyes and a bright smile. 

The sudden ramble of his best friend, along with his choice of words made Dabi stiffen, unconsciously tightening his grip around you as he held onto you with dear life. Was it selfish of him to act in such a way? He could dream that you were his mom. He’d always wanted one, but… he knew that you were going to say no to being his mom. His own birth mom didn’t want him so what made him think that you would? Even so, he wanted to cling to you as long as he could if it meant that he could keep hold of this feeling that he had ever since he’d met you. 

“Keigo! What did I tell you about asking so many questions at once? You didn’t even take a breath in between sentences, goodness gracious, “she sighed before rubbing her forehead, she then looked at you, “Sorry about that, prince- Y/N. He’s very- er, excitable.” 

You quickly shook your head and smiled, “It’s ok! I don’t mind at all.” You then lean down a little to speak to Keigo directly, taking note of the little wings in the inner corners of his eyes, wow, eyeliner on fleek, “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you too, Keigo! And as long as Dabi’s okay with marrying you then I don’t see why not!” Shock spread out across Dabi’s face when he heard your words, quickly looked up at you, not believing that you had not rejected the claim you were his mother. His face burned red and he couldn't help but feel embarrassed, burying his face into Y/N's stomach to hide his embarrassment. 

Truth be told, you hadn’t really caught onto everything that Keigo had said and just answered whatever you could remember to answer after hearing his ramble. But even if you had fully processed his mistake of referring to you as Dabi’s mom you probably wouldn’t have corrected him. You had already made a decision anyway about what was going to come of your life. 

You were going to marry Prince Enji and take over your kingdom. It was your duty and you owed it to yourself and your parents. You knew what you had to do to protect your family and your people, even if you were ignorant to the true intent behind Enji Todoroki’s plans. Not only that, you were more than willing to take on the role of Dabi’s mother, you could already tell that he needed some kind of nurturing figure in his life and if you were allowed to- you’d fill that role with open arms. 

[quintchess]

Oooo I beg if you continue the story with the hero villain kid!!

Original by @random-writing-thoughts

Previous part

Hero wanted to collapse on the asphalt, on the curb, on the grass, on everything that caught their eye and had a horizontal surface. During the night, they had to stop a whole truck with just their body, and the sensations from this were not the most pleasant.

The power of the blow was mostly reduced with their hands; the speed was low, but that didn’t prevent them from feeling every bone in their body smashed. Fortunately, the durability of their bone tissue was higher compared to any regular human being.

As for the tension in their muscles, it has never been compensated with their super ability. And if after the accident they felt slightly sore, now, walking down the street to Villain's house, they felt their body fill with lead with every step. They were too tired to walk.

The whole move to a new place, the emotional swing with the villain and working as a hero – it was all too much. And like that truck, it's all going to come crashing down on Hero with all its weight at any second, pulverizing them without a trace.

They wearily entered the house, heading straight to the first nearest bathroom, whose location easily surfaced in their memory. They pulled off their mask with a trembling hand, squeezing it with weak fingers. They didn't want to look at themselves in the mirror, but they had to. They need to see Kid, check whether they’re okay, and how they slept. No matter how hard it was for the hero, they couldn't let their child see their parent like this.

Dragging their weight to the mirror, the hero looked at their own reflection. There were no bruises or abrasions on their face, and nothing else was important. A little extra clothing, and their injuries, which were probably hidden under their suit now, won’t be visible under regular clothes. Right now, their entire body felt like one huge bruise.

Turning on the faucet, they splashed cold water into their face, which created a slight tingling in the nerve endings. Hero tried to smile at themselves, as if all the pain would go away. As if they would look normal again, and continue pretending to be an ordinary person for their kid.

They tried to take a deep breath, hoping oxygen could displace exhaustion. Nothing but a dull pain echoed in their lungs, turning their usual breath into a cough. Pressing their forearm to their chest to drown out the traces of pain, they bit their lower lip.

After looking at themselves in the mirror once more, the hero clenched their fingers into a fist, persuading their mind to pull themselves together, right when their civilian clothes caught their attention. Seeing it in the reflection, they turned around and found their clothing where they had left it.

Changing clothes turned out to be even more painful than walking, but Hero didn't have time to drag it out and feel sorry for themselves. Leaving their suit right there, near the sink, they left the bathroom, mentally preparing themselves to go up the stairs.

When holding their breath, it didn't hurt them so much. Holding their breath every two steps, they could've possibly mountain enough strength to go up. And then, at the top, it will be easier to walk on the flat surface.

With these thoughts, Hero was ready to go, however deep inside they were still struggling. Reasoning the pain was temporary didn’t help at all, and even worse, distracted them from what was happening within the house.

Among the empty high walls, the voices were especially clearly audible. At first the hero thought it might be Villain’s household workers, but when they listened more closely, they could distinguish the muffled laughter of their own kid. Good sign.

It was this sound Hero decided to follow, trying to move their legs as if the bones weren’t going to crack under their weight any second. Kid's voice sounded on the first floor, and the hero was grateful to all the thing in the world their agony of going upstairs was postponed.

As they got closer to the source of the sound, they realized they were approaching the living room. Although they could hardly call it such way, considering almost every room in the house had sofas and armchairs. However not every one of them had a TV, the sound of which Hero could also hear now. Hobbling to the living room, they stopped at the entrance at the same moment as Villain's voice was appeared.

“I can't believe Sergeant Panda is using a marshmallow blaster instead of a moon amulet. It doesn't make any sense.” The villain reasoned aloud, indignation and a slight tinge of irritation sounded in their voice without affecting their visual calmness.

Their legs were relaxed on the floor while the back of their head rested against the back of the sofa, holding a half-eaten cookie in their hand and continuously looking at a colorful cartoon on the TV screen.

“I was thinking the same!” Kid declared, shifting restlessly in place and watching the image on the TV with no less interest. Next to them was a half-empty bowl of cookies, toys and a coloring book opened on a random page with lots of colored pencils. "But the friendship hail works best against Mr. Sinister."

Just a few seconds of silent observation was enough to dull the unbearable pain. It was this sight warming the hero’s heart the most and helping their wounds heal faster. The realization their kid is fine, they aren’t in danger, and they’re happy, could sooth any soreness, no matter how sharp and deep it was. Hero almost didn't mind Villain sitting next to the kid and discussing their favorite show with them.

The arisen grudge as a result of recent events hadn’t yet been extinguished, but right now Hero preferred not to think about it. All they wanted was to see their kid. Part of them didn't even want to tear Kid away from watching cartoons, but the hero couldn't stand in the doorway forever, letting the villain enjoy spending time with Kid all by themselves, either.

"What? Won't you even say hi to me?" Hero spoke in a friendly tone, leaning against the doorway and folding their arms in front of them, as if their chest wasn’t squashed by their every small movement.

“Parent! ”Kid exclaimed happily, sliding off the couch and running up to the hero.

Their small arms immediately wrapped around their parent’s shins, pressing their face against them. Hero patted the kid on the head with a smile and lowered themselves to the same level, now fully embracing them. Nothing could compare to the feeling of a small body tremulously clinging to the hands of an adult. The feeling is so pleasant Hero would agree to have another truck crash into them, just to feel the joy of meeting their child so vividly every day.

"Hi." The voice of Villain chimed in, while they were running their fingers through their own hair. "You look-" The hero's serious stare, pointing at Kid, silenced them. The villain had never seen the hero so battered and beaten, and all of this could be easily read in their expression. With Kid around, they realized they shouldn't have paid attention to it. "You look… passable."

Hero forced a laugh. They didn't want to let Kid out of their arms, but with their restlessness, the kid was eager to be free. They preferred to express their joy of the meeting with joyful splashes of hands and circling around Hero. With a warm smile, the hero smoothed their kid’s disheveled hair, getting back to their feet and finally noticing everything on the couch.

“Are you having cookies for breakfast?” Pointing to the bowl, they looked at Kid, then at Villain, wondering who would be the first to answer their question with an obvious answer.

Kid folded their hands behind their back, looking up at the ceiling and rocking back and forth, pretending not to notice the pastry.

"Well, yes. That’s what children eat, right?" The villain asked calmly, looking at the bowl of cookies with a stare, as if they were trying to figure out what was wrong with the food.

The hero wanted to chuckle, but neither fatigue nor dissatisfaction with such a breakfast allowed them. Ever since they left the old apartment, their kid had been eating something strange all the time, and the hero knew they were directly responsible for it. If not for their amount of work, they would’ve found more time for the kid to figure out what to feed them and inform the villain about it.

"Yeah, but not for breakfast." Hero tried to maintain the calmness with which Villain spoke to them. In the end, it was only their fault no one really controlled Kid. "Same for the cartoons. God, don't spoil my kid."

The hero walked pass Kid, who was now repeating the patterns on the carpet with their own feet, pacing it with unhurried steps, and spreading their arms to the sides for balance. Approaching the sofa, Hero squeezed the remote control in their fingers, turning off the TV screen and interrupting the phrase of one of the cartoon characters in the middle. Without further action on their part, the TV turned back on.

"I think they deserve it, don’t they?" It was clear from Villain's persistent look they were involved in the sudden appear of the self-consciousness of the TV.

Hero didn't want to answer. Just as they didn't want to argue that allowance to watch cartoons in the morning or eating cookies for breakfast wouldn’t make them an ideal parent. Everything inside them was screaming not to even try to start conversations on these topics, and their severe physical condition agreed.

Swallowing their refusal, the hero threw the remote back on the sofa lightly, without showing their true emotions and provoking another outbreak of muscle pain. The remote landed softly on the stuffed pillows, rolling down on them and placing itself right next to a plush toy, which Hero's gaze immediately fell on.

"Is this a new bunny?" Taking the toy in their hands, Hero spun it a little, making sure of the correctness of their conclusion. "What happened to the old one?"

The last question was addressed to Kid, who shifted around on one spot and stretched out their hands in an attempt to either grab the toy, or take it away and hide its existence. Without understanding the reason, Hero simply gave Kid the toy, which they immediately hugged to themselves, as if they had been looking for it for many hours.

"Kid said they couldn't find it-" The villain pointed their thumb at the stuffed bunny. "- and I asked my henchman to buy them a new one." Sitting on the very edge of the sofa, Villain looked with a restrained smile at how Kid, getting comfortable on the carpet, was trying to feed a real cookie to a not-so-real bunny.

Hero involuntarily looked at the kid at the same time. They had never noticed before how easily they could lose touch with reality just by watching their kid. The sane part of their mind was able to detect how Villain got up from the sofa, as if this action was what the hero was waiting for to speak again.

"But their bunny was in the suitcase." From the outside the villain didn’t change at all after hearing these words, but a slight ripple passed over the screen of the still-on TV, showing that they were listening. "Have you tried looking there?"

"Ohh. The suitcase." Villain pronounced it as if they tasted every letter. As if wanted to feel how it moves on their tongue and what muscles it sets in motion. "The suitcase." Their voice sounded concentrated, as if among the many suitcases they had ever seen, they were trying to remember a specific one. 

When their thought process came to an end, their head twitched slightly. "No. haven’t look there." Walking around the room, they added. "It was late at night and Kid couldn't sleep. I panicked."

The word panic didn’t fit in with the balanced and sometimes even cold image Villain was trying to build. And from this discrepancy, the hero smiled sincerely; the pain choking them from the inside restrained their impulses to laugh at the top of their voice.

"Was it really easier for you to buy a new toy in the middle of the night than just trying to look for it in the suitcase first?" Hero asked with a kind smile, glancing at the bunny in Kid's hands, as if trying to see something special in this stuffed toy that would be worth performing such feats.

The villain didn’t understand the reason for the sudden mirth, and only nodded, accidentally turning off the light in the room. The lightbulbs immediately lit up again, but such a fleeting gesture prompted the hero that Villain wasn’t really as calm and cool-headed as they tried to seem.

"This is so... strange." Hero blurted out when their gaze caught the imperturbable features of the villain's face. Only now did they realize how calmly they were talking to their enemy. Villain only raised an eyebrow at the phrase, and the hero hurried to explain it right away. "You're just you." Hero gestured with their hands at the villain, as if this added some clarity. "Without any of these weird questions and suggestions."

"And you’re talking to me in the way you used to." Villain pointed out, the corner of their lips twitched in a slight smile. But this facial expression didn’t last long.

"I've been thinking about what happened over the last two nights." Their hands weren’t making any unnecessary movements, and their gaze was directed at one spot, without any attempts to glance at something else; however, their feet wandered aimlessly around the room. "You see, such behavior turned out to be as surprising for me as it is for you."

"How is it so?" Hero, who wanted to laugh a minute ago, has now significantly tensed up. Even the muscle pain seemed to have intensified.

The villain stepped closer, opening their mouth to say something, but whatever words were trying to form on their tongue were interrupted by Kid's joyful laughter. They didn’t speak, only chirped in a voice full of joy. They hardly needed any toys; their imagination drew everything for them.

"I think we should talk about this in private." Pointing with a glance at the kid, Villain slowly left the room in their usual manner.

Hero followed right after them, not daring to ask anything first. The forgotten emotions from the past days’ experience were coming back, reminding of everything that had happened between them and Villain during the time spent in the house.

Strange questions, a gun, a quarrel hovered in one part of their mind, opposite which were the care of Kid, the preservation of personal secrets and an invitation to the house. Two such different halves of one whole Villain didn’t connect in any way in the hero’s head. They were so exhausted by all these unpleasant surprises and dull pain, they didn’t even try to guess what Villain had to say.

They silently were walking along the corridor; no one made a single sound. Even Hero, with their aching body, was keeping themselves quiet. Suppressing the pain seemed so common they no longer saw the point of paying attention to it. Going further down the hallway, they realized Kid's voice had become quieter and this entire path they made was for the kid not to hear anything. How thoughtful.

"Have you noticed that the lights are always on? Even in those rooms where it’s unnecessary?" Villain spoke slowly; their voice sounded a little softer than usual. 

They waited for an answer, and Hero was lost in what they had to say. They never paid attention to the light, but at the same time something inside prevented them from saying it directly. 

The villain, unbothered by the silence, continued. "That's because I control all the electricity in the house."

With these words, it was as if they wanted to force Hero to come to some logical conclusion. But the hero didn't understand what Villain wanted from them, and their enemy sighed. "There is too much of it accumulating inside me and so that electrical appliances wouldn't burn around me, I need to constantly put my energy somewhere. But in the evenings I turn off the lights. Not everywhere, but in the most rooms."

Their words sounded disinterested, as if they were saying the most obvious thing in the world. "I didn't know that an overabundance of energy could result in... such way." At the last sentence, their voice gave out feeling of confusion.

"What do you mean?" Not feeling any danger, they pressed their shoulder against the wall, although they soon regretted it, feeling the nerve endings began to send pain along their skin.

"I’m just trying to say that too much electricity has a strange effect on me." The villain began to move in the hallway more vividly, pacing in circles on the spot and analyzing something, looking at the floor. 

"At such moments, my brain works faster, and I don't always have time to think about what I want to say or do." Looking at the hero, they hoped to meet with understanding, but apparently Hero couldn’t fully realize what they were saying.

"At least, this is how it works, I think." The villain continued, wanting to hear something in response to more information. "Although what I've said to you over the last two nights, I really meant it." Shrugging their shoulders, the villain stopped in one spot. "But I guess I brought it up too soon."

Even with all this explanation, Hero was silent. But now, not from misunderstanding, but from the amount of information that was woven into a single thread, forming a complete picture. Everything made too much sense to be an unprepared speech that Hero would fall for. At the same time, more and more questions arose in their thoughts, in their mouth, bursting out and transforming into simmering anger.

"So it's all because of your ability?" The hero could feel the tone of their voice getting louder and higher. "What about our battles? Do you have no control over what you say with your henchmen either?" They were close to yelling, but the proximity to the room with Kid made them speak a little calmer, while not limiting them in gesturing with their hands. "And you want me to believe you were going to shoot my friend because of your overabundance of energy?!"

If it weren't for the pain piercing their whole body with needles, Hero wouldn’t have been standing still, agonizing emotions in their body keeping them from thinking straight. The inability to take drastic actions forced them to just stand there while their fingers were filling up with a mixture of anger and resentment. Their negative aura was too clearly felt in the air for Villain not to notice it. But instead of trying to calm them down, the villain just started to speak again.

"I'm glad you asked." There was sincerity in their eyes. They spoke slowly, either letting Hero calm down, or wanting to annoy them more with the delay. "During our battles, I used my power as a weapon, so it was spent in the exact amount I wanted it to." Villain smiled weakly, as if remembering something nice and meaningful in their life.

Hero didn't share their enthusiasm; it was hard to force themselves to listen further without being distracted by the overwhelming anger they were trying to suppress. Emotions had to fade with every word, but something inside didn’t allow to let go of the negative feelings.

"I only meet with my henchmen at work." The villain continued. "And I control all the energy in that building, too." This conversation was much easier for them, and the more they answered questions, the closer they were getting to the hero, as if checking how long they could restrain themselves from hitting. 

"But you're right. Perhaps I went too far with pointing that gun at your friend." Villain no longer tried to speak indifferently, putting as much regret as possible into their own words. "I'm sorry. I really am."

Hero never thought they would be grateful for the pain piercing every molecule of their body. Anger didn’t subside even after those couple of minutes Hero tried to persuade themselves to calm down.

The hero was filled with anger at how clear and simple everything was coming together. Anger at what Hero had done over the past few days and how unacceptable their current feelings of rage were now. They knew they had nothing to be irritated about anymore, and ironically this drove them mad even more.

They were breathing heavily, trying to chill, while anger blurred everything before their eyes. All of Villain's words sounded to them now as confirmation that they were wrong, that they had said a lot in vain, and that all this time they were the one who acted strangely. Hero felt angry, but now only at themselves.

"You should really get new clothes." The hero didn't even notice when Villain's hand landed on their chest, brushing their fingers over the washed fabric.

Hero also didn't notice how they kept their eyes closed the whole time. For some reason, the villain's touch didn’t seem so strange to them now, but it didn’t become something ordinary to feel either. They took Villain's hand away from themselves without rush movements, stepping away just a little.

"Thanks. I'll think about it later." Such a sudden topic of conversation made all the anger in their voice evaporate. “I have to go to work first."

The hero didn't know what time it was, but they weren't lying, although they did want to leave and think about all of this alone.

"But you just got home." Villain remarked, the tone of their voice suggested a detailed answer was expected.

Hero almost missed these words as they was walking down the hallway now. Part of their mind was already in thoughts, and the other was at work, and there was no attention left for something third. Nevertheless, they stopped, standing up to the villain in half a turn.

“I’m talking about my ordinary work.” The hero spoke wearily; then they smiled weakly, realizing that for Villain it wasn’t that obvious. "The one I make money with."

Saying these words was almost as painful as the moment when the truck crashed into them. Just thinking about their job seemed like torture, and actually doing it would be an impossible task. Hero managed to force themselves to finally accept Villain's invitation to live in their house, but they definitely weren't going to take someone else's money for a living. And no matter how difficult it was for them, it wasn't the first time they went to a regular job in such a state.

"By the way, aren't you going to work?" Hero asked, realizing Villain had been spending the last few days only with Kid. "Don't you have any villainous deeds?"

This wording made the villain chuckle. "I can afford to take a little vacation." They seemed to understand the hero's emotions, and therefore deliberately gloated with their relaxed smile. "I still don't know how to deal with kids, and I need time to figure it out."

Despite the slight malice hidden behind Villain's eyes, Hero felt something warm waft from these words. All their emotions were twisted to the maximum when it came to their child, making them too soft and sentimental. And even when these words came from the villain, the hero felt incredibly grateful that someone else was worried about Kid when it was extremely difficult for Hero to cope with everything.

"Thank you." Hero said the simple words. Too simple to fully express what they really felt. "Thank you for taking such good care of Kid."

The hero was close to hugging Villain. This raging whirlwind of all-encompassing emotions Hero was able to experience for a small amount of time turned them into a mess, too sluggish to think sensibly. All they wanted was to hug the villain now, but apart from uttering a couple of words, the hero didn’t dare to do anything else.

"You're welcome." Villain replied kindly.

In the next second, something happened the hero didn’t expect, but which for some strange reason they didn’t want to interupt. The lips of their former enemy pressed against their cheek, so carefully and slowly, as if the most precise work of defusing a bomb. One awkward movement and an explosion would happen, and in the case of the villain, their own bones would crack.

Hero didn't know what they were supposed to feel at that moment until the discharge went through their entire body. The sensation was not like pain; rather like every particle of their blood became palpable and began to flow through their veins much faster. This feeling made them want to take a deep breath; oxygen penetrated the cells at such a speed, there wasn’t enough time to fully inhale it.

All the heaviness in the muscles immediately spread out over the limbs, splitting into such small grains they were lost among other cells right away. Hero felt a charge of energy that made it hard to stand still; every part of their body was eager for action.

“What was that?” The hero didn't fully understand the voice was their own; it sounded too fast and energetic.

"A little electric discharge to cheer you up." With a restrained smile, Villain ran their fingers over the hero’s shoulder. "You needed it for your work." With these words, the villain left, heading back to the room with Kid.

[bloodurge92]

Faerunian 29 days writing challenge, Day 1: What was Tav doing before they were abducted? (outdated lore)

What was Raox doing before he was betrayed?

A short-story about the events leading up to Orin's Betrayal, set around Moonrise Towers, with a short Drow Kar'niss vs Slayer fight.

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Raoxšna had been sent to correspond with Ketheric in placating the Elder Brain and training the would be cultists in preparation for the Absolute. It was made known to him by Gortash that they would be taking drow into their service, and that given Raox's history with elven martial arts he would be best suited to the task of training them. Although Raox knew there could be a little racial abrasion, he was enthusiastic to try. It was decided it would be best for Orin to accompany him as an almost equal combative, someone to plunge a knife into their backs if they dared to utter an insult. Although the temple had just overcome an attack at the hands of the Harpers, Raox was confident that the mess could be left in Sceleritas's care.

Kept between himself and Gortash, Raox's enthusiasm for the idea to train the drow was due to it's poetic nature. If Drow had not destroyed an Eladrin city and forced his surrogate family to seek refuge, eventually leading them Baldur's Gate, his existence would have likely taken another form all together; and there were few things which didn't involve viscera and butchery that Raox adored more than the form of his own body.

So what better way to thank them for such a form than to have them serve him in the final days? What better way to punish them for the decrepit beginnings of his life, than to have them sacrifice themselves in the name of a false god, to have them invite Lolth's fury upon themselves for his entertainment.

Once within the compounds of Moonrise Towers, he wrote up explicit details of how he would bend their minds and break their bodies, for he was particularly interested on how he might provoke Lolth into making one to take the form of a drider. This was the better way for him to show them his gratitude, in thanks for his form he would gift them a new one. In part, it was also due to his fantasies of how a drider might fair in a fight against his Slayer, the sound it's legs might make as they snapped, the life of eight eyes passing into oblivion instead of two. He kicked his feet in a giddy cackle just thinking about it.

After taking a moment to compose himself, he made for the tower's library to learn more of the process, and the people he would be taking charge of. After all, with the form of a surface-elf they would likely be less than co-operative, so perhaps the form of the Slayer would be better suited after all. Stuck in how he might approach the drow, Sceleritas's words came to mind, reminding him to delegate. He had brought Orin all this way after all. At Raox's behest one of Ketheric's servants sent for her and it did not take her long to arrive. She sat across from him while he explained his intentions for the drow and her part to play in it. The two had nothing to hide from one another, for those who killed together and embraced Bhaal's essence believed to be their truest selves when blessed with violent ecstasy. And they had shared those experiences for many years now.

At his instruction, of their drow guests Orin was tasked to identify their most dedicated follower. In the meantime Raoxšna requested that Ketheric allow the use of the tower's rooftop, claiming that they would not so easily be turned from Lolth without an adequate display of power. If such a thing still did not gain their fealty, he would throw them from the tower, one by one, and in mentioning Balthazar's use for corspes, highlighted that they will serve either by choice, or in death. A sentiment Ketheric had long come to understand, and so he allowed it.

Once Orin had distinguished the target, Raox confided the rest the night's plans. Together they laughed hoping the drow would resist, granting them the satisfaction of watching their bodies fall from the heights of the tower, as there were no buildings as tall as this one back in Baldur's Gate. It was the only thing he felt he could look forward to, after the dissapointment that came in learning that the creation of a drider's form was more complex than he anticipated, and certainly not something he had the time to orchestrate. However there was a tinge of hope. Amongst the drow, one was not who they seemed, for there lay a mind that the Elder Brain could not reach, or so it had informed him. As such Raox requested that Orin keep a hidden, careful eye on their guests while he prepares himself for the display, passing her a potion of mind-reading as he expressed that the guest she is looking for will have an impenetrable mind.

Following a meal with Ketheric; during which the general discussed strategies and alliances, the drow guests were escorted upstairs for the night's entertainment and told to take their standing around the center of the decorative flooring. Raox waited beside the spire's altar adorned in absolutist clothing, keeping his face masked. He thought it would better to be cautious with the Absolute plot being so close to fruition and an unknown infiltrator being amongst them. As all of the guests settled and the mumbling came to an awkward silence, Raox slowly walked down the adjacent stairs. As he did so, he made several derogatory comments of Lolth in comparison to the Absolute hoping to provoke their anger, reigniting the mumbling as he made his way to the center of the room.

He called out to the crowd, for the drow Orin made known to him, the one known as Kar'niss, challenging him and his goddess to a combative test of faith. The mumbling of the crowd grew into a snicker, and it seemed that that they approved of the entertainment to be provided. Likely because despite his devotion, Kar'niss was a male drow and thus subsequently looked down on. But in their indulgence to mock and discriminate, they failed to notice the doors to the stairwell being locked behind them.

From the crowd and under a disguise, Orin came forth to whisper into Raox's ear. He nodded as a long grin painted his face. At the same time a drow priestess approached Kar'niss, they spoke in drowic; which was foreign to him, but Raox understood the serious tone that carried her words.

Raox had to try to contain his tremoring excitement. Orin had just informed him that a fellow shapeshifter was present amongst the guests, a yochlol, disguised as a priestess. It was what he had hoped for when conferring with the Elder Brain. In his study he had read that yochlol serve a purpose not too dissimilar to Bhaal's doppelgangers, in that they infiltrate society and spread her will, but more importantly to Raox, they create driders.

And it would seem that the yochlol had just given Kar'niss Lolth's blessing to fight, however the transformation upon his loss, is still not assured. Usually the combatants in Lolth's tests had to be close or at least a follower of Lolth herself and Raox is neither, but the mystery of the outcome only added to the allure of the fight.

 

As the Kar'niss approached, he proclaimed his acceptance to duel in Lolth's name and unsheathe his rapier. Raox could only encourage Kar'niss in his excitement to fight but couldn't shake his enthusiastic laughter, which expressed how unserious Raox felt about his opponent. Disturbingly contrasted, Raox's face stilled to a deadened expression as he mentally made a prayer to Bhaal. As he did a red and black aura enveloped his body shifting his form into the Slayer. The crowd jeered at the change, accusing the duel as a farce, the Absolute as a cheat. While some unnerved by the form attempted to leave to no avail, panic begins to quietly murmur throughout the crowd, while Kar'niss makes a glance to the priestess, who silently nods, which initiated the start of the duel.

The Slayer lunges its upper arms forward while pulling back its lower. Coming from the underdark; which is filled with all manners of creatures, played into Kar'niss's experience. He was evasive to the swings of the Slayer's claws but due to a misstep on the marbled floor failed to evade the cleave of its tail, throwing him back into a stone pillar. The impact fractured his ribs, causing him to grunt in pain. Trying to take advantage of his blunder the Slayer swung his claws again to rake against his flesh, only for the drow to roll himself under the attack. Instead of flesh the claws drag across the pillar, cutting the stone behind them. As dust and debris fill the air, Kar'niss takes advantage of the limited visibility and ripostes with his blade, but by instinctually contorting its slender form the Slayer avoided the lunge.

The Slayer had been anticipating the moment he would close the distance, hoping to bait such an attack by keeping his body an open target, his lower arms pulled back in invitation. Now that the drow had taken it, his open arms quickly closed to grapple the drow, the Slayer echoing a blood curdling screech, one that could be heard even within the bellows of Moonrise's prison cells.

Blood dripped out of the ears of the drow, his head ringing with a high pitched bleep. The other drow around him began to run to the stairwell door in fear, all but one. The priestess, who stood in silence still watching the duel. With the door locked, the people's panic exploded from a frantic whisper to a loud frenzy. A delight to some, as Orin clapped her hands in maniacal laughter. Unable to do anything, Kar'niss could only watch in despair as the Slayer howled once more, the fear completely disorientating his mind, only echoing the screams of those around him. Time seemed to slow as a creeping shadow enveloped the borders of his vision, a red mist spreading as the Slayer raised its claw, its pitch black eyes reflecting fear the in his own face. The last thing he saw before it all turned dark.

Raox was able to restrain the Slayer's impulse to kill, just enough to keep Kar'niss within an inch of his life. However bloodlust still called the Slayer to its purpose, it emitting a slow crackling grow that passed the priestess and sought the blood of the crowd. Orin cheered with glee, finally able to let loose. As they humoured themselves in the bloody debauchery, the doors were swung open and Ketheric stepped forth with his soldiers, interrupting the massacre and harbouring the remaining drow as their saviour. He bellowed in his low 'general' voice, scolding the Bhaalspawn before returning down the stairwell. Between Raox and Ketheric they named this tactic the 'Enver Method'.

With the bloodlust contented, the Slayer returned to his humanoid form. The priestess still remained, standing unfazed, softly speaking drowic words while channelling it's power into the defeated drow, reminding Raox of the intentions he had lost to the Slayer's bloodlust. Although the Slayer was enjoyable it was entirely indulgent, and if not for it's sharpened instincts to haunt its prey, it would be likely be too reckless to fight effectively.

Raox approached the man as his body began to deform and break, the pain both visible and audible as Kar'niss's mind contorted with his body. The drider had been born, and was truly a most monstrous beauty. The yochlol said nothing, expressed nothing and simply dispersed into a gaseous form before either Raox or Orin could pose a threat. The drider lay unconscious on the bloodied floor. Raox's boots softly stepped and stood by its face, leaning his head down to the absolute's newest pet with a smile hanging from ear to ear,

"Thank you" he whispered.

Raox then made his way down the stairwell with Orin following behind, making a remark about how Raox should start a menagerie of all the monsters he'd been making, referring to the gnolls he treated like pups. He laughed at the idea, it was a tempting thought. Perhaps he would after Myrkul and Bane were out of the picture. Pondering on if he would make their chosen dogs of his own, before deciding that it would be against Bhaal's teachings to do so, and Gortash at the very least was deserving of a divine death. Considering this very opportunity was his gift, in thought many of Gortash's schemes resulted in similar gratification, and for a moment he felt gratitude in being able to serve such a man.

Realizing himself, a bitter fear followed. In panic he wrote a prayer begging for forgiveness from his divine father, before setting out to find something or someone to kill in his name. Having changed out of the dreaded absolutist robes for something that wouldn't betray his allegiances, Raox travelled into the shadow-cursed lands with a moonlantern in tow.

Across the waters that surrounded Reithwin stood an abandoned inn, which was under some sort of protection spell. Although usually it was his pleasure to snuff out light wherever he found it, the cause of this light is what bound Ketheric's allegiance to The Dead Three. So instead Raox watched as travellers desperate to escape the darkness, were drawn to light's protection. Which inspired him to allure his prey in a similar fashion, using his lantern much like anglerfish within an abyss.

Skulking the darkness he chanced upon a couple of Harper scouts. That they had come this far from the city caused Raox concern, as Harpers had historically been a constant thorn in his father's side. Raox thought he had dealt with them in the city, leaving the pests to a horde of mindflayers. He planned to punish Sceleritas for in failing to report their escape. Regardless, Raox believed that these Harpers would make a perfect repentance for his momentary lapse in faith.

He called out to them, offering them safety and guidance from the darkness, claiming he had been traveling and guiding strangers in these lands since before the curse struck. His elven appearance often allowed him to be flexible in portraying his age and experience. His demeanour was always incredibly friendly and gentle when masking his violent urges. Living with them all his life, the duplicity had become second nature for him.

In misguiding the scouts; which allowed more time for conversation, he had learned that they had been sent to investigate Moonrise in search for illithids. So, of course Raox kindly and graciously escorted them straight into the hands of Moonrise's guards, and into the prison cells. From there Raox personally walked them to the pit, a chasm within the prison to whom all that fell, piled on the fleshy floors of the mindflayer colony. Raox congratulated the scouts on finding what they had been looking for.

Besides the pit stood a killing altar, something he had fashioned in service to Bhaal, ensuring that every prisoner meet His gaze before being pushed to their deaths. Only he noticed a scroll upon it, it was the prayer he had written. Convenient but suspicious, he grabbed the scroll and unfurled it, reading the prayer aloud. The expression upon the Harper's faces as they heard the words made Raox confident that it had been scarred upon their souls. They were scouts, recalling vital information should be their expertise.

Gifting a singular knife between them, he forced the two to kill each other by promising the victor safety under the Absolute. Of course, only the soul of a murderer would reach his father, so in order to pass on his prayer, neither could survive. Watching them fight was a bore, his hands twitching in frustration at how incapable and inefficient they fought, but held himself back from finishing them. Eventually one was left standing and Raox exhaled in the greatest relief, placing his hands on the Harper's shoulders, feigning congratulations before taking out his frustrations by the way of gutting him, grabbing his intestine and kicking him into the pit. Watching his insides unwind lightened his spirit, into a soft chuckle, kicking the other Harper's body into the pit as he laughed.

Afterwards, he sat by the altar in a trance. Revisiting his memories of his own murders and assassinations, as a child he could visit the very memories of Bhaal himself but that time had long since past. He focused his trance on mistakes; and although these days he made few, but his victims made many, and he studied them that he might learn to exploit them better. Before he could, he was interrupted by a deep sharpened pain to his side. Opening his eyes, it was no longer only Harper blood that warmed the floor, but his own. The dagger to pierce him was his own, Bloodthirst. The hands that held it were pale, and when the dagger pulled out, an a overwhelming flow of blood began to flood through his clothes. It was almost as if he was being deflated. Suddenly he felt a strike to his head, toppling him over to see the pale feet stepping through his blood. There was no doubt in his mind who it was, Orin.

He hoped that she feared a betrayal to Bhaal, instead of being envious for his favouritism, because he remembered what it felt like, the inferiority. As his he felt himself drift, he questioned if his decision to offer her a place by his side all those years ago was a mistake, lamenting his pity for monsters before realizing that perhaps it was not a monster he saw in her, but himself.

His consciousness began to fade as he felt her presence lean over.

"Thank you" She whispered.

[windowcleaningsupplies]

Enhancing Clarity: A Comprehensive Guide to Window Cleaning Tools

Windows serve as the portals to our homes and offices, allowing natural light to flood our spaces and offering views of the world beyond. However, maintaining their cleanliness is essential not only for aesthetic appeal but also for ensuring a healthy living or working environment. In the arsenal of tools available for this task, there exists a plethora of options tailored to different needs and preferences. In this guide, we delve into the world of window cleaning tools, exploring their functionalities, advantages, and how they contribute to achieving sparkling, streak-free glass surfaces.window cleaning supplies

Squeegees:

Squeegees are perhaps the quintessential tool for achieving streak-free windows. Consisting of a rubber blade attached to a handle, they efficiently remove water and cleaning solutions from glass surfaces. Their design allows for swift, uniform strokes, making them ideal for both residential and commercial applications. Squeegees come in various sizes to accommodate different window dimensions, and some models feature adjustable handles for added convenience.

Microfiber Cloths:

Microfiber cloths have revolutionized the way we clean windows, offering superior absorbency and trapping capabilities compared to traditional cotton cloths. These ultra-fine fibers capture dirt, dust, and grime with ease, leaving windows spotless and lint-free. When paired with a cleaning solution, microfiber cloths excel at polishing glass surfaces to a brilliant shine without leaving behind residue or streaks. They are reusable and machine washable, making them an eco-friendly option for sustainable cleaning practices.

Extension Poles:

For windows located in high or hard-to-reach areas, extension poles are indispensable tools that enhance accessibility and safety. These telescopic rods can be attached to squeegees, scrubbers, or other cleaning implements, allowing users to reach windows situated on upper floors or in narrow spaces without the need for ladders or scaffolding. Extension poles come in various lengths, with some models featuring twist-lock mechanisms for secure attachment and adjustable angles for versatile use.

Scrubbers:

Stubborn dirt and grime often require a bit of elbow grease to eradicate, and scrubbers are designed precisely for this purpose. These abrasive pads or brushes feature durable bristles or abrasive surfaces that effectively loosen and dislodge dirt from glass surfaces. When paired with a cleaning solution, scrubbers provide thorough cleaning power, preparing the glass for a streak-free finish when used in conjunction with a squeegee or microfiber cloth. Some scrubbers feature pivoting heads or swivel mechanisms for enhanced maneuverability, ensuring thorough cleaning even in tight spaces.

Window Cleaning Solution:

Choosing the right cleaning solution is crucial for achieving optimal results when cleaning windows. While commercial glass cleaners are readily available, many opt for homemade solutions using ingredients such as vinegar, dish soap, or rubbing alcohol. These DIY solutions are often more cost-effective and environmentally friendly, providing effective cleaning power without harsh chemicals or fumes. Regardless of whether you choose a commercial or homemade solution, be sure to use a spray bottle for even application and minimal waste.

Water-fed Pole Systems:

Water-fed pole systems offer a streamlined approach to window cleaning, particularly for large-scale or multi-story buildings. These systems consist of telescopic poles equipped with water jets and soft bristle brushes at the tip. Purified water is pumped through the pole and sprayed onto the window surface, loosening dirt and debris. The brushes agitate the dirt, while the continuous flow of water rinses it away, leaving behind a clean, streak-free surface. Water-fed pole systems are highly efficient and reduce the need for chemical cleaners, making them an eco-friendly option for commercial window cleaning operations.

Conclusion:

Maintaining clean and clear windows enhances the overall appearance and ambiance of any space while promoting a healthy indoor environment. With the myriad of window cleaning tools available, from squeegees and microfiber cloths to extension poles and water-fed pole systems, achieving sparkling, streak-free windows has never been easier. By investing in the right tools and techniques, you can keep your windows looking their best year-round, allowing natural light to illuminate your surroundings and providing unobstructed views of the world beyond.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

NASA experiment sheds light on highly charged moon dust

Researchers are studying data from a recent suborbital flight test to better understand lunar regolith, or moon dust, and its potentially damaging effects as NASA prepares to send astronauts back to the lunar surface under the Artemis campaign. The experiment, developed jointly by NASA and the University of Central Florida, sheds light on how these abrasive dust grains interact with astronauts, their spacesuits, and other equipment on the moon.

The Electrostatic Regolith Interaction Experiment (ERIE) was one of 14 NASA-supported payloads launched on Dec. 19 aboard Blue Origin's New Shepard uncrewed rocket from Launch Site One in West Texas. During the flight test, ERIE collected data to help researchers at the agency's Kennedy Space Center in Florida study tribocharging, or friction-induced charges, in microgravity.

The moon is highly charged by phenomena such as solar wind and ultraviolet light from the sun. Under those conditions, regolith grains are attracted to lunar explorers and their equipment—think of it as similar to the static created by rubbing a balloon on a person's head. Enough regolith can cause instruments to overheat or not function as intended.

"For example, if you get dust on an astronaut suit and bring it back into the habitat, that dust could unstick and fly around the cabin," said Krystal Acosta, a researcher for NASA's triboelectric sensor board component inside the ERIE payload. "One of the major problems is that there's no way to electrically ground anything on the moon. So even a lander, rover, or really any object on the moon will have polarity to it. There's no good solution to the dust charging problem right now."

A Kennedy team designed and built the triboelectric sensor board inside the ERIE payload, which reached an altitude of 351,248 feet aboard New Shepard. In the microgravity phase of this flight, dust grains simulating regolith particles brushed up against eight insulators within ERIE, creating a tribocharge. The electrometer measured the negative and positive charge of the simulated regolith as it traveled through an electric field applied during microgravity.

"We want to know what causes the dust to charge, how it moves around, and where it ultimately settles. The dust has rough edges that can scratch surfaces and block thermal radiators," said Jay Phillips, lead of Electrostatics Environments and Spacecraft Charging at NASA Kennedy.

The ERIE payload spent approximately three minutes in microgravity during the New Shepard capsule's suborbital flight, which lasted about 10 minutes before landing safely back on Earth in the Texas desert. A camera recorded the interactions, and Philips and his team are reviewing the data.

The results will inform applications for future missions destined for the lunar surface. For example, by using triboelectric sensors on a rover's wheels, astronauts can measure the positive and negative charges between the vehicle and regolith on the lunar surface. The end goal is to develop technologies that will help keep it from sticking to and damaging astronaut suits and electronics during missions.

The flight was supported by the Flight Opportunities program, part of NASA's Space Technology Mission Directorate, which rapidly demonstrates space technologies with industry flight providers.

IMAGE....The New Shepard crew capsule descends under parachutes during its launch Tuesday, Dec. 19, 2023. Credit: Blue Origin