#didnt write for a while

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter LXXXIV: Sunrise

Bit my hand.

Yep.

It’s hard as a rock. All blue and numb. There’s no other way around it: frostbite.

Ha. I’m going to die, aren’t I?

Yes, it was a morbid thought, but it was always important for one to remember their own mortality. Some people have this idea that when we die, we all die alone. I don’t think that’s true, though. There’s always something with us. Even in death, we’re given comfort by our surroundings. In life, we have friends, family, the people we meet along the way, both good and bad…

...but to hell with it. For all intents and purposes, I walked alone in the dead of night, a purple sky, illuminated by the northern lights. Not even that could light my path ahead, however, as all I saw in the distance were shadows of mountain ranges, little squares and rectangles that may have been buildings, and a yellow glow further out.

Wait. Wasn’t that significant?

Looks like I had a bit of luck left in me after all. Lady Luck, if you’re out there, I’ll blow a kiss your way.

Yes, even as I was left stranded in the middle of the night, my clothes soaked and clung to me, now turned to near-ice, and my hands frostbitten, I wouldn’t give up so easily. I felt the constant shiver, the kind Remora would often feel. But more than that, I was sure I should have reached the stage of ‘paradoxical stripping’ about an hour ago (not that I had a sense of time, but it sure felt like an hour) yet there I was, clothes still stuck to me. Wouldn’t someone call that fate?

So when I saw through the front window the silhouette of a man in a black suit and slacks with slick, black hair, and thin, delicate glasses, my frozen heart started to thaw just a little.

Is that...am I home? I thought, even though it went against what I had been told. No matter how hard it was to walk, I had to enter that diner. I had to go through those doors, even if I collapsed as soon as I entered.

In retrospect, some might have called it fate that I did exactly that: shoved my way through the front door, only to collapse at the entrance.

“Interesting. So you’re telling me that you came from another timeline – one where you and I are husband and wife?”

His hands were folded and rested on the edge of the table. He sat across from me, smiling slightly, but not giving much indication as to how he really felt or believed. In other words: it was Ray, all right.

I nodded. While I did manage to explain the situation to him, it was still hard to get words out, especially what with all the shivering and defrosting I was doing.

“Incredible,” he continued. “While I wouldn’t say this is the first time someone has crashed through my restaurant in critical condition, this is certainly the first time someone’s told me a story like that.”

I shook all the moisture off of me like a wet dog. Water flew all over the floor, the window (which was already foggy) and the table. Ray didn’t look concerned, even as some got on his sleeve, and he just sipped his tea like usual.

Someone, who had a split, pencil mustache, sure looked concerned, however.

He was in a blue and white striped suit, with a green bucket hat over his head, and matted, swamp-green hair poking out. In other words, he looked just like your typical waiter if the restaurant in question encouraged quirky dress codes.

“Excuse me. You just got water all over the floor,” he sounded rather annoyed.

“Please, Pierre. This is a guest. We can always clean the floor later,” Ray turned toward the waiter. When he turned back to face me, he waved his hands away. “Sorry, you’ll have to excuse my husband.”

A knot twisted in my stomach. Not that this man, Pierre, wasn’t handsome in any way, just that it was yet another reminder that this wasn’t my world. This wasn’t my Ray.

Oh, but he’s still Ray in any other way that matters. That much is clear.

“Heh,” I smirked, “I get it. Crazy lady shows up and says she’s your wife. It’d be enough to make anyone a little irritated. But don’t worry, I’m not trying to steal you from him. I’m also not expecting you to believe me. Like, what? I’m from an alternate version of here? Oh, but I’ve got more stories to tell. Maybe crazy enough stories to make what I already told you seem plausible.” By now, I was starting to return to my usual self. It helped that Ray had given me a blanket and orange and white fleece sweater. His generosity could be tricky, as he knew his way around people enough to make anyone feel special, even if he didn’t know those people at all. If I wasn’t careful, I’d breakdown and wish for him to be my Ray. But I couldn’t do that. I had another one back at home. It wasn’t right to be greedy.

“Go on. I won’t promise to believe you, but I’m always willing to listen to a guest. Say, would you like some tea? I’m currently drinking oolong.”

I waved my hand away as if I was fanning myself.

“No thank you. I would like some whiskey, though.”

“Whiskey?! Really?! You were stranded in the cold and THAT’S what you want?!” Pierre’s outbursts were rather amusing. I forgot that this wasn’t a world that didn’t know who I was.

“Eh? Why not?” I shrugged. “A drink’s a drink. I always find those drinks to warm me up and provide a kick. Especially good for colder climates.”

He continued to gawk until Ray snapped his fingers.

“Well? Are you going to bring this lady her drink?”

“Of course, my love!” Pierre saluted, then ran off to the back. I had a little snicker at the sight before I returned my focus to this Ray.

“Did he take your last name? Or did you his?” I pointed my thumb toward the back.

“Ha. Neither. We’re pretty independent like that. I’m Ray Sunshine, as you know, and he’s Pierre Oiseaux.”

“I can’t pronounce that.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can just call him Pierre. He calls me ‘hubby’ or ‘my love’, but that bit’s a little irrelevant.”

“It’s a little gaudy,” I agreed.

“Excuse me?” Pierre returned with a glass of bright, sun-kissed whiskey in hand. “Who are you to say I’m gaudy?”

“Sorry, no offense. Such pet names aren’t my thing. But it’s fine if it’s yours.”

He let out a deep sigh.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m just a little on-edge right now,” he admitted.

“Oh, hun. High strung? What about?” I asked.

“Just marriage trouble,” Ray joked. I say ‘joked’ but his delivery was rather flat. Not deadpan, either. Just real jolly and matter-of-fact.

Which, if there was one thing that must have been consistent among Rays was this: when he says marriage trouble, he means something else. If he says something other than marriage trouble, than it might have been marriage trouble. That’s how Ray operated. He was honest in his dishonesty.

I want to pry...I want to pry...I want to pry…

“So, what other stories do you got for me?” Ray asked.

Damn it! I missed my chance to pry!

“Well, you got your hand shot by a former assassin named Remora. You later just got your whole arm amputated and got it replaced with a prosthetic, though you usually just find it easier to cook without that fake arm attached. You know Rhea Flection?”

He shook his head.

“Darn. She’s a well-known former assassin as well. Been to many timelines. So, Remora is another version of Rhea. Who died, by the way, except never mind, no she didn’t. Say, what about the time traveling gay mafia boss, Tony Falsetto? Are you still friends with him?”

“While I don’t like to make my connections known, no, I’ve never met someone by that name.”

Lame. Where’d all the cool people go?

“Man. I wonder what Demetria’s up to. Maybe since she never met Remora, she finished school and is studying them fishes. Oh, and Tigershark. Well, I guess since Cronus never showed up here, she’d still be with her parents and be going by Rotellina Littlewheel. Hmm...does that mean my timeline was the bad timeline and this is the good one?” I thought out loud.

“The Littlewheels? They were regular guests here. Cute kid, too. Their research was done, though, and they’re living in Italy now.”

Hearing that put a smile on my face. Sure, I would never meet the Tigershark that wasn’t Tigershark, but at least this version had her parents. She was probably happy, if nothing else.

“They were good people, yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah. They were.”

I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Nothing that would impress him, anyway. Sure, I could have mentioned Aion. Maybe those two had history here as well. But let’s be honest: I had bigger concerns.

“Hey. So. It’s a longshot, but have you seen a slender black woman named Ananke with cool armor over her limbs?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Damn. She’s my ticket out of here. If anyone knows how I can get back home, it’s her.”

“Home? As in your timeline?” Ray pondered.

Matters such as this could be so delicate. There were many ways to approach such things. Yes, a simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed, but I was much more sophisticated. So I shook my head.

“No. Home as in my home. It may not be the best place, but it’s the one I love.”

“Well, for your sake, I hope you find it. I’ll be on the look out for this ‘Ananke.’ Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Why, yes, dear Ray, there is something, I grinned.

So that’s how I ended up walking out the door of the restaurant with a fishing pole and bait in hand. This Ray also gave me a bundle of sticks for good measure. There was only one thing left to do: walk a fair distance away from the restaurant and light a fire. With any luck, I could cut a hole in the ground and do a bit of ice fishing.

Right when I thought I found a good spot to drop everything, I heard a neat little clicking sound behind me.

“Just what are you really after?” Growled a rather, if I was in the complimenting mood, handsome voice.

“I told ya already. I’m not interested in your husband. I have my own,” I smirked.

Moisture ran from my thick hair down to my neck. It wasn’t sweat, I knew that much. It was just proof that I wasn’t fully recovered from almost being a snow cone.

“That’s not what I mean! Who do you work for?”

“Huh? I work in the name of wanderlust. I’m after a way to get home.”

“I bet that was just a sob story you made up! You said yourself that you don’t expect Ray to believe you!”

“Yeah, because it’s pretty ridiculous, don’t you think? But it doesn’t matter how believable it is. It’s the truth, and as long as I know the truth, what else matters?” I was really starting to get exhausted with this guy. What stick was up his butt, seriously? “But tell me, what do you think my intentions are? What do you think I’m after?”

“You mentioned a time traveling mafia! That must be it! You’re in one of those groups! You’re probably here to get revenge on Ray after he stole from you guys!”

That’s my Ray! Cunning to the end. Ahem! I should probably be scared, huh? That Pierre guy’s got a gun on me. He’s already made up his mind and now he’s going to defend the man he loves.

“Look, buddy, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had a gun pointed at me. Worse, been shot at,” I had my wrist ready. Stella was going to come through. She’d deflect that bullet. Hopefully the bullet wouldn’t hit him in return, and if it did, hopefully it wouldn’t be fatal, but hey, it would still be better than me getting shot. “So believe me when I say that I won’t be the one shitting my pants.”

“RAAAAA!” He yelled and pulled the trigger. Luckily, I knew to turn just as soon as his yell started out as a growl, and with a flick of my wrist, Stella, the bracelet on my arm…

...did nothing.

She remained a bracelet. No whipping power, no baton, nothing.

Actually, something did happen, though. Something significant: my knuckles bled.

“AAAH!” I groaned and hissed as I held onto my knuckle. Luckily, the bullet missed, but it sure grazed me good.

“What?! Why would you try to aim your fist at the bullet?! Were you trying to punch it?!” Pierre freaked out. Given the situation, if anyone should’ve been freaking out, it’d be me.

“No? That would be dumb! I can punch many things, but a bullet isn’t one of them!” I shouted. I had to such in my breath in intervals just to make sure no tears would flow.

“Then what were you trying to do?!”

“It’d be pointless to explain now! Anyway, why did you shoot me?!”

“I was just trying to protect my husband!”

“Big whoop! All I wanted to do was fish and now I’m not even going to enjoy that properly!”

“I’m sorry!”

“You better be! Do you have any bandages?!”

Our shouting match was one for the century, but even if I took a physical hit, I was still coming out on top.

“Yeah...uh...hold on,” he lowered his voice while shuffling his feet. His head hung low in shame as he headed back in the restaurant.

I sat down next to the bundle of sticks and my fishing rod.

“Stupid...stupid…” I hissed and shook my head.

This whole trip to an alternate timeline has been stupid from the start. Who cares if the world was better off without Remora ever showing up here? Or if Demetria never had a reason to come to the arctic? Or if Tigershark never became Tigershark? Or if Ray and I weren’t a duo? This whole world could’ve been a fucking paradise, but it still wasn’t my home.

But no, I wasn’t going to cry. It wouldn’t do me much good. Not until I’ve made it back home to everyone. Then I could bawl my eyes out.

Pierre’s soft footsteps were like the sounds of someone chewing through spoonfuls of dry cereal. He crouched down beside me, legs spread, and held some bandages and tape in his hand.

“Lend me your arm,” he said in a sloppy, oily tone.

My gaze was downcast at the patch of icy ground that I’d like to dig into and try to catch some fish. While I did what I was told, I didn’t wish to look him in the eye. It’s not that I held anything against him, I was just exhausted.

“I’ve had a long day,” I said as he wrapped the bandage around my knuckles.

“Tell me about it. I’m sure I didn’t help.”

“Eh. It’s not the first, nor will it be the last time, some guy shot at me.”

“That’s concerning.”

“Is it? If this weren’t such a regular occurrence I’d be much angrier with you.”

“Ha. You sure ain’t normal. You sure you ain’t with some mafia?”

All I could do was shake my head.

“Negative. I’m not organized enough to be in organized crime.”

“Then how do you intend to make it home?!”

There he went again, shouting. God damn it, Pierre, couldn’t you just keep your voice at an even volume?

He tightened the bandage and tucked the end of it to the first layer.

“There,” he stood up like a flamingo and trotted back toward the restaurant. “I really hope you find your home, lady.”

“Thanks!” I grinned. “My name’s Sunny!”

After he went inside, I turned to see the curtains of the restaurant draw to a close. Teal curtains, which, regardless of whether or not the color mattered, it was still odd to see them close at all. In fact, I don’t think we ever put up curtains in my home’s diner. Guess that’s just another thing that’s different.

My left fist was still free. Sure, it would bleed soon, but not after I…

A light tap was made against the earth in front of me. I looked up, of course, and almost grinned at what (if I were more naive) could have been my salvation: Ananke. Yes, Dr. Paracelsus herself graced me with her presence donned in black striped sweats, a peach cream colored tank top, and adorned with a golden necklace which displayed little snakes eating each other’s tails. It wasn’t just a casual landing, however. No, she was decked out with her mechanical frame. That bulky, black exoskeleton which allowed her to fly around and pulverize whoever she damn well pleased (if she pleased to do so at all). It was a rather unflattering jacket which almost made me suspect that its real purpose was to distract from the beauty within.

“What brings you here?” I asked.

“I wanted to check up on you. Is that so wrong?” She returned my question with another.

“No,” I shook my head, “it’s not. As you can see, I’m getting by.”

There were more pressing matters to discuss, but I couldn’t bring myself to show any contempt toward her, even if my current position was less than ideal.

Her expression didn’t change – flat, monotone. Very little lip movements. I wanted to say she reminded me of a little frigid friend of mine, but even said frigidity tended to be on the soft, more breezy side. In contrast, Ananke was a dearth of emotion.

“Tell me – aren’t you cold?” I asked.

“Freezing, burning. Such things mean little to me.”

Cryptic. I see. If that’s how she was going to be, there was little reason to keep beating around the bush.

“I want to return home.”

No question, not this time.

“You know that can’t happen,” she shook her head.

“And why is that?”

“I need that device to satisfy destiny. Besides, you may not see it yet, but it’s safer for you here.”

“I don’t care what’s safer. What I care about is being with the ones I love.”

“Compared to the magnitude of the world, your wish is mere dust. You can always rebuild. Find new love. New dreams. There is a whole world of adventure that awaits you.”

“So inspiring,” I crooned sarcastically. “But I’m nothing if not stubborn.”

Even if I lived for another fifty years, there was only one adventure that mattered to me right now.

“You seem to know a lot about this whole,” I made vague gestures. “Why doesn’t Stella work anymore? When I tried to use her, it was just a regular ol’ whip.”

“Stella?” She tilted her head.

“My ‘angel weapon’ as I’m sure you’d call it.”

“Ah. That must mean the angel is no more. Which means the world you came from will soon be no more.”

Just as the pulse on my wounded knuckle pounded, so too did my heart.

“That’s even more reason for me to go back! I can’t let this happen to my family!”

I stood up. Catching fish could wait. So too could starting a fire. There was already something blazing deep within me.

“Even if you were able to go back, there is nothing you can do. Now stop this foolishness. Your lifespan is but a speck. Don’t waste it.”

“I’ll waste my life however I damn well please.”

It was subtle, but her brows, as thin as they were, wriggled until they met a slight crease against her smoky eyes.

“Of course. I see now this is the kind of person you are. Just as you are dedicated to your foolishness, so too have I dedicated my life to my research.”

What will it take to convince you? I wondered. I knew I stood no chance in a fight. Not with my current equipment.

“I take it you and Aion were lovers? Or perhaps if not lovers, you had feelings for him?” I tried out an old trick of mine.

“Are you daft? We agreed to work with each other so long as our goals intersected. Once they parted, so did we. If there was anything I could say about him, it’s that he’s a fool masquerading as a genius.” Then, she smiled. “Then again, he might say the same about me.”

“So what? Any other lovers? What about friends?”

“Why the inquiry now?” “Well, it’s just that...aren’t you lonely? Maybe I could help you with your research. Be your colleague, your companion. And maybe...something else.”

She coughed out a laugh.

“You cannot hope to seduce me. Men and women alike have tried over the years, but none of them would satisfy. Their lives are so fleeting, and they would only serve as a distraction. Even if I felt anything past a kinship with you, it wouldn’t even put a dent into my life. Half of your lifespan is not even half of one percentage of how long I have lived. What good does a mortal love do me?”

“Wait. ‘Mortal’? Are you telling me…?”

“For thousands of years, I have lived. Tempered by the elements. Survived poisoning, stabbing, burns, starvation, dehydration. I am not invincible, but hardened to the point by a desperate need for survival.”

“Even if that were true, how could anyone live for, what, thousands of years?”

“Come on, Sunny. You said you believed in magic. How absurd could it be that I was blessed by a god to live on and carry out my fated goal?”

A shiver ran down my spine.

“Just what is your goal?”

“A simple, but more meaningful one than you could ever conjure: I have seen my original tribe assimilated, only to be made into several different cultures over the years, and having lost its original culture. My original people, displaced until forgotten. War and changing of values, the colonization of an already civilized people. Lands ravaged until inhospitable. Did you know that the Sahara was once a thriving landscape where crops grew?”

“So what? Your goal is to restore your former people? And why does a time travel device factor in? Are you planning to bring your community back into this time? What with the changing of landscape, I doubt they’d even survive this period.”

“No. You misunderstand, as most are want to do. I was an outcast in my own tribe. Assaulted, tortured, ostracized. I don’t hold resentment for them, as I was quite weak back then. I hold no resentment for the changing of times, either. I know that change is inevitable, and values clash constantly. I don’t need community, and I know that this planet won’t last forever. All I wish for is a land that will last. Unbothered by pollution. Unbothered by the clashes of the outside world.”

“You really don’t think you would be lonely at all, do you?” I asked, this time genuine.

“I am not alone for fate is always with me.”

“So how does the time travel device factor in?”

“It holds enough power to shield my land from attacks. I have spent countless years of research into creating an artificial landscape, unbothered by the environment which surrounds it. In certain places, tropical. Others, a desert. All of it, beautiful. A refuge of my own making.”

The idea sounded majestic, if not misguided. Or maybe I was the misguided one for still preferring my home over her potential home.

“I’m sorry to put you in this position, but it looks like I have to crush your dream in order to fulfill mine.”

I positioned into a fighting stance, my uninjured knuckle facing forward.

“Are you blind? Deaf, perhaps? Even if my body wasn’t tempered the way it was, my armor will surely protect me,” she sounded surprised. Turns out she didn’t know me as well as she thought.

I charged forward and readied my fist. As I swung forward, she blocked with the armor covering her arms, something which I already predicted she would. That was when I shot my leg forward and kicked her in the stomach. Despite that part of her being defenseless, she did not so much as budge or groan. My foot under my thick, leather boot, felt crushed as if a boulder landed upon it. I pulled back and hissed.

She really is hard as a rock, I thought.

My tactic changed: this time, I pulled out Stella. She may only be an ordinary whip now, but I was willing to bet I was strong enough to leave some kind of mark.

When I cracked it, she blocked it by lifting up her knee. Even if she wasn’t so durable, that armor was still in the way. So I switched hands, aimed for her face and to my astonishment, she didn’t even flinch or try to block as it hit her cheek. More so, there was nary a mark upon her.

She stepped back, undid her armor as she did so.

“I have no intention to fight you. I may not be capable of being harmed, but that doesn’t mean I am very strong, either. Still, I have to deter you from such foolish notions,” she declared.

I kept trying to hit her while she continued to take steps backward. Then, her armor shifted into that of a long, thick, black cleaver of a sword.

No way. Is she going to cut me down with that thing? But that’s not what she did – in fact, what she did was far worse. She held it against her own wrist.

“While others wouldn’t fare so well, I can allow myself to bleed,” she sounded less like she was about to harm herself, and more like she wanted to show me a magic trick. And indeed, she was, as she slid her blade against her wrist and a few drops of thick blood poured down and sunk into the frozen earth.

“It is time you met one of my daughters.”

What was just her fresh blood expanded and shot upward until it formed the shape of a person: brown skin, short, braided black hair, and emerald green eyes. Her pointed teeth poked out from her full lips and she opened her mouth and spoke in a firm, yet warm tone:

“You summoned me, mother?”

“Yes, Atropos. Go fight Sunny for me, but do not mortally wound her. She need not die, only deterred.”

“Mother, call me Aisa,” her summoned daughter pursed her lips and pleaded. Despite looking like a grown woman, this ‘child’ of Ananke’s expression reminded me of a toddler soon to burst into tears.

“But that name is too hard to pronounce,” Ananke rebuffed.

“I won’t do as you say until you call me Aisa.”

“Fine,” Ananke sighed, not nearly as stubborn as I. “Go fight Sunny, Aisa!”

Although Aisa was blocking the view, I managed to catch a striking detail from Ananke for just a split second – her wound on her wrist had already closed up and healed, without even so much as a scar.

Her sword transformed back into her outer armor and attached itself to her limbs. Before turning away, she addressed me.

“Don’t come looking for me,” she warned before flying off.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was an invitation.

A faint trace of smoke was left by the fuel used to carry Ananke away. I let out a faint cough, and I would have been thankful for that brief warmth, were it not for the guest in front of me.

Aisa wore a long, flowing, white robe, with a V-neck which tastefully (in my opinion) showed off her small cleavage. That robe of hers extended down to the point that they covered the ground and blocked any view of possible footwear. Shame, too, as whether she was wearing sandals, boots, or barefoot could have made a huge difference in whether I stood a chance or not.

She reached her hands into her pockets and pulled hand spindles from one, and a wooden wheel from the other. Even if its diameter was smaller than my head, I still imagined it would have done some damage were it to strike me.

Jeez. How big are those pockets? I wondered, but not a moment sooner, she spun the wheel toward me, with many strings connected to it.

I dodged in time and she ran toward me, tossing spindles my way. One cut against my cheek. I tried to grab onto the needle, unbothered by the cut, even in the stinging cold, but she pulled the needle back.

I bet she’s a yo-yo expert, I observed and pulled out my whip. Stella may no longer be ‘Stella’ as I knew her, but she was still stellar in her own right.

With one crack, I wrapped Stella around the threads of her spindles and pulled her closer to me, then kicked her down.

“Ha,” she smirked, “I can see why mother would find you special.”

“Me? Special?” I asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes,” she closed her eyes. Her wheel, which still hung low, spun toward me and cracked against the icy ground. I watched as her hand flung the string forward and aimed the wheel up toward my stomach. I held onto my whip with both hands and blocked against the wheel. The wheel didn’t let up speed and spun higher, toward my face, forcing me to follow along with my whip.

I thought it would keep getting closer and shred my whole face apart, but just as I could feel a tickle of wind against my nose, it slowed down. Aisa pulled back, leaped up and spun in the air. She flew up high enough that for a moment I thought she was a fairy.

Instead, she dove down like a torpedo. I backed away, and in that moment, noticed that she wore stiletto heels with a dagger poking out. I gulped, grabbed onto her ankle, and tossed her away.

She landed on her feet, unfazed.

“Ha! I’m impressed as well! See, mother doesn’t care for people, but you? You caught her interest!” She as flattering as she was in ecstasy over the thrill of battle.

“I don’t see how!” I shouted back. “I don’t have any magic power! I’m not immortal!”

She spun the wheel and it missed my face, but cut against the sleeve of my shoulder and left a searing cut.

“Ack!” I winced.

“Don’t sell yourself short. Mother is never wrong.”

We’ll see about that, I huffed.

She tossed spindles once again. Each time, I swatted them away with my whip. It was my turn to advance on her, and this time I’d whip her senseless.

“Not bad,” she nodded. “Unfortunately, I’m going to wrap this up now.”

She didn’t try to dodge my whip. Instead, she set her wheel on the ground, then propelled herself up into the air once again, with wheel in hand.

I avoided this once, I can do it again.

She dove down, aiming her heels once again my way. I backed away and wrapped my whip around her ankle. She was caught, and would soon be slammed to the ground and I thrust down.

However, she had the same idea, and slammed her wheel right against my stomach. I was knocked back to the ground.

Aching, I tried to pick myself up. She didn’t pull back her wheel, and it kept me down, like a weighted blanket.

“For a mortal with an ordinary weapon, you put up a good fight. However, as I am the weakest of the fate sisters, you have no hope of reaching mother.”

She pulled her wheel back and placed it in her pocket. I watched her wrap threads around herself and she spun away like a spinning top. She leaped up in the distance and I watched her fade away into a crimson mist.

“Ugh,” I rubbed my head.

Dawn would be breaking in just a few hours.

I checked on Stella, my whip, and saw that the middle of her was threadbare, almost cut in half from the pressure of that accursed wheel. It made me lay my head back on the ground in defeat.

Only a few minutes later, I struggled my way to sitting up. My busted up belly ached to the point I felt like throwing up, but I held in whatever bile would have spewed out.

Tears flowed down my cheeks. It stung the cut on my cheek, even if the cold already did a good job of that.

Utter defeat. Time and time again.

No, I wasn’t going to give up, but when I counted up the different times I’ve lost, the idea was tempting.

Then there was the issue of succeeding. Was I really willing to destroy someone’s home in order to see myself back home?

I folded my knees and buried my head in them.

Where was my determination? It must have been buried as well.

My greatest treasure: my home. I’ll retrieve it at all costs. But how?

I must have been lost in my wallowing to the point that I didn’t hear anyone approaching. It was only when a hand was placed on my shoulder, the same one that was still wet with my blood.

I looked up to see Ray. Not my Ray, but it was still him all the same.

“What’s wrong, miss lady?” He asked in his soft, Ray voice.

“Ray…” I sounded hoarse, weary.

“Won’t you tell me another story? Someone as interesting as yourself shouldn’t be so sad.”

“I don’t know if I have it in me.”

“At least come inside where it’s warm.”

“But what about your husband?”

“I already gave him a few good spankings. Apologies for his rudeness.”

What other choice do I have? I thought while taking his hand.

Pierre looked down in shame next to the bar counter where Ray would usually serve drinks to passing customers.

Of course, most of the time, the diner lacked customers, and this time was no exception.

What other yarns could I spin for them? Either out of regret for his actions or genuine interest, Pierre sat next to Ray at the booth and leaned in. Both of them were awaiting some kind of tale.

After I took a sip of warm water, I figured it out.

“One time, there was a sculpture I learned about under an Egyptian tomb. Emeralds for eyes and in the shape of Anubis. But I wasn’t about to donate it to some museum or sell it to a black market – no, that’s not the way I roll…”

It was a fantastic tale, one from my old days. That tomb consisted of a maze and several traps, including moving giant statues with spears. Ah, I was a lot more agile then, as well.

“Wow so you were a regular treasure hunter?” Pierre’s eyes lit up.

“Ha. You like that?”

“Well, I always dreamed of doing stuff like that when I was a kid, but then I stubbed my toe on a thumbtack while exploring an abandoned building in my neighborhood.”

Ray wrapped his arm around Pierre’s shoulder.

“He’s such a baby,” Ray joked, “but I love him anyway.”

“Well, I’m a baby, too. I’m just a big one with lots of experience. Sometimes you just gotta...jump into that active volcano, wander into a toxic mine shaft, or search for the monster under your bed.”

“Yeah, but you make all that sound easy,” Pierre whined.

“It’s not that it’s easy, it’s that it’s…”

I didn’t know the word. I probably did at one point.

My sole weapon is nearly broken. In those examples, I usually had a parachute, a gas mask, or a torch.

“So here’s another story, from just a few minutes ago: Ananke, the woman that I’m searching for, turns out she’s immortal.”

“What? Oh, right, it’s a story,” Pierre was shocked until he scoffed.

“Just because it’s a story doesn’t mean it’s not astonishing, dear,” Ray closed his eyes and sipped his tea.

“Maybe she’s not invincible, but immortal and ageless? Yeah. And for what it’s worth, she practically seems invincible. I tried to fight her and not so much as a dent. Someone like her is beyond belief.”

“It sounds like you’ve got a thing for her,” Pierre suggested.

“I have a thing for Ray,” I waved my hand away, “err...not your husband. Mine.”

“Yes, but she’s your ticket out of here, no?” Ray said. “I must say, even if you make it back home, you’re not someone I’m likely to forget any time soon.”

“That is true. But I don’t even know where she resides.”

Ananke mentioned somewhere tropical. In the Southern hemisphere, perhaps? But didn’t she say it was an artificial environment? So the region probably doesn’t matter so much. Now that I think of it, she found me pretty fast, didn’t she? It’s almost as if…

“I think I do, actually!” I shouted and grinned.

“Oh? That’s great,” Ray clapped his hands together.

“Yeah! I gotta go there now! Like, pronto! ASAP!”

“But...your injuries…” Pierre pointed to my knuckles, then my shoulder.

“Eh. Wounds build character,” I flexed my arms.

“Yeah, if you give them time to heal! Be sensible!”

“Pierre Oiseaux, you bird brain! You’ve known me to be a fool since I got here! Why would I be sensible now?”

“It’s not pronounced ‘Wee-saw,’ and you should be sensible because what good is going home dead? If Ray died doing something stupid, I’d never forgive myself. Think about what your Ray must feel if you died doing something stupid!”

“If Ray dies doing something stupid, just kick him until he wakes up!”

Ray chuckled.

“I should agree with my husband – but I won’t say this isn’t amusing,” he said.

I paced around the dining area. It wasn’t good enough to think it would be close. And just saying I wanted to be there now wouldn’t get me there.

“Quick question: do you know an Aurora B?” I asked the two gentlemen.

“What?! Are you associated with her? Her and her gang are awful!”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. But I’m not looking to rob you guys. In fact, if I wanted to do that, she’d already be nearby and of course things aren’t that easy.”

“Why would you want to meet her?”

“Because she could take me there. I have a feeling that Ananke’s close.”

“I’ve got a motor sled. Why don’t you just borrow that?”

“Pierre, I could kiss you if you were Ray and not Pierre. But even if I used your sled, I’d still have to swim across freezing water.”

“I’m with my love on this one,” Ray held out his hand and waved it about. “She’s tried to rob us before a couple of times. Even though she wasn’t successful the second time, she still made a mess of the place. I don’t even think she meant to leave it a mess, she was just shitfaced drunk and kept knocking into things.”

“Ha ha! I’ve done that before!”

Actually, now that I thought about it, I did have a way to contact her. That is, if my hunch was correct.

“Ray, can I borrow your phone?”

“Whatever for, miss?” He asked, smiling coyly.

“I want to know just how alternate this timeline is,” I explained.

Pierre gave a confused look with a side of disgust.

Ray tossed his phone and I caught it in my palm. Just a simple black flip phone. Rather outdated, but y’know, it was cute.

I entered in the digits and dialed.

Back in my own time, Ray had (reluctantly) added Aurora’s number to his contacts back when he decided to have her babysit the diner. I pretty much had her number memorized. Not that I called her often or anything.

The phone rang a few times before I finally heard a familiar, gruff voice.

“Who is this?” She grunted.

“Hey pretty lady,” I cooed. “Why don’t you come over to my place. I’ve got something for you.”

It was Ray’s turn to give a confused look. From the other end of the line, I’m sure Aurora looked just as confused. In hindsight, there was a better way to get her attention.

“I think you have the wrong number. I don’t do booty calls. I got a crew to satisfy me.”

Fuck this.

“I’m not talking about sex! I’m talking about food! I heard from a friend that you and your crew was starving, so I thought I could help, but you know what? Screw this! Some ingrate you are!”

“Hey! Nobody talks to me like that! Where are you? I’ll show you a thing or two!”

“Ray’s place. Look for a yellow building. Can’t miss it.”

“Gah! Just you wait! I’ll satisfy my hunger and then make you eat those words!”

“Bring it.” I hung up and tossed the phone back to Ray.

“What did you do that for?! Are you trying to endanger us all?!” Pierre panicked.

“Yeah, that was...wow,” Ray gave a nervous smile.

“Trust me. Just as much as I know how to deal with Ray, I also know how to deal with her.”

“I hope you’re right,” both Pierre and Ray said.

Now we just had to wait.

We didn’t have to wait long. For all Aurora’s faults, she was at least good at keeping her word. The train parked right in front of the diner. I stepped outside just as she stepped out of the front train car.

There she was, the big redhead with the big, bushy strawberry hair. She had on a thick yellow wool sweater, a gray scarf, and fuzzy black pants.

Oh, and a heavy scowl.

She rolled up her sleeve and clenched her fist.

“Who are you? I wanna know the name of the person I’m about to beat to a pulp!”

Good luck. I’ve already been beaten pretty bad. What’s a little more?

“Sunny Reyes, at your service,” I took a bow.

She grunted.

“I’ve never heard of you!”

“Well, I’ve heard of you.”

“Of course! Who hasn’t heard of the great Aurora B? Now are you ready to pay for what you called me?”

“What? Pretty?”

Aurora stroked her chin.

“Now that I get a good look, you’re rather pretty, yourself. What say you? Wanna join my crew after I finish giving you the beating of a lifetime?”

“That’s only if you can beat me.”

“Oh, I sure can!” She began to run toward me, but I held my palm out.

“Hold it! I didn’t say how we would battle, did I?”

“What? You can’t just order me around!”

“Leg wrestling. You and me.”

Aurora’s face turned red.

“Well...I...my legs are so strong that I could probably crush yours like a grape…”

“What? Scared?”

“No way! You’re on! Right here and now!”

“You can’t be serious, Sunny! Leg wrestling? Unprotected?” Pierre asked, the fear in his voice palpable.

“What? We’re both wearing pants.”

“That’s not the point! People have died leg wrestling! It’s no joke!”

“That’s silly talk! Leg wrestling is perfectly safe as long as you know what you’re doing,” I waved my hand away.

Jeez. Pierre really was a baby.

We both laid flat on the ground, opposite of each other, but our legs against one another. Just as we raised our knees, Aurora yelled, “wait!”

“What now?”

“We should at least roll up the sleeves of our pants. Who’s ever heard of arm wrestling with mittens on?”

“Oh, right. Good point.”

We rolled up our pant sleeves to our knees and folded our bare knees into each other, with her foot between my legs, and mine between hers.

“Hey hey!” Waved what looked to be a cheerful redhead with freckles. “I’m Allison Daughters! I’ll be your referee!”

She jumped up outside the train and looked real giddy, with a whistle tied around her neck.

“All right! Whoever can pin the other’s knee down first, wins!” She explained, then blew her whistle.

We pushed against each other. I had to admit, she was doing a pretty good job of keeping her knee in place, but only time would tell if she would last.

“Remember: if I win, you gotta join my crew,” she sneered.

“Let’s make this interesting: if I win, you gotta take me somewhere,” I said back.

“What?”

“I have somewhere in mind.”

I began pushing harder and her leg began to fold inward.

“Gah!” She grunted.

“I can’t bear to look! It’s too scary!” Pierre gasped.

Oh please. Even though you tried to shoot me? I thought, though my eyes were concentrated on Aurora’s leg. I pushed harder and saw as her knee began to go down, even just a little.

“I can’t lose yet! My pride as a captain is on the line!”

She pushed herself up and sat up. I didn’t know whether or not that could be considered cheating, but I didn’t really care. It wasn’t going to give her the advantage she thought it would.

I sat up and inched closer to her.

“Now we’re even,” I declared and began to push harder. She let out a gasp as she tried to push my leg away.

“Nng…” She winced. “If we get any closer to each other, this might get bad.”

“Agreed,” I held my own, but I wasn’t getting her knee down any lower. I was still in the advantage, but damn if she wasn’t trying.

“I’ll allow it! Get as close as you want!” Called out Allison, the referee.

Aurora pushed harder and our knees were both up once again, evenly matched.

“You’ve got a lot of stamina,” I said.

“I practice with my crew.”

“Sorry to sully your pride in front of your crew, but,” I pushed my leg with as much force as I could muster. Aurora tried to hold on, but it was clear she wouldn’t hold much longer.

“Haa...haa...heh, if you beat me, forget about pride, you’ll earn my respect.”

I grinned, even though I was straining to finish this.

And finish it I did – with one slam of my knee against hers, I pushed her knee down on her other leg and held it down.

“Ha! Victory!” I raised my hands in the air.

We released our grips on each other and huffed in short breaths.

“Haa...aa…that felt really good,” Aurora sighed.

“You’re telling me. Been a while since I’ve had a good workout like that.”

“Um. Sunny. I think you drained our boss!” Allison declared.

“Hey! I’m just fine!” Aurora yelled and pushed herself up off the ground.

“Amazing,” Ray had his hand on his chin as if it were some game of chess.

“So where is it you’re looking to go?”

“I believe there’s an island off the coast of here. I want to get on that island.”

Aurora nodded.

“I see. You’re one of those people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing bad. I am too. See, there is an island, or rather, three islands. It’s an archipelago surrounded by a wall of fire. There’s a bridge to get across the water to each island, but the problem is that it’s gated. There’s some powerful lady with a wheel who stands guard to the first island. She seems to let most people in as refugees, but it’s like she’s some kind of mind reader.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, you probably want in for the same reason I did: to steal the food and take it back for yourself, no? Or get this: there’s probably a vast wealth of treasure on those islands. When I walked up, she said she knew what I was after and chased me off with her wheel. Like, excuse me? She wasn’t even that hot.”

I snorted. Sounds like Aurora all right.

“Well, nobody tells me what I can and can’t have...is what I would like to say, if I could get in. That fire wall stretches high. Unless you drop in from the sky, I don’t see you walking in the normal way.”

“Nah. And I don’t want to.”

“So if that’s your goal, I don’t know how I can help you, sorry.”

I placed my hand on Aurora’s shoulder. It wasn’t like her to get discouraged. And I was already reeling back from remembering when I was discouraged.

“It’s okay. We can do this. You just gotta send me flying. Got a cannon?”

Her jaw dropped.

“What?”

The train sped through the icy terrain. I stood atop the front car, wind in my face.

Needless to say, this was going to happen. Just not in the way that I hoped.

No, I wasn’t going to be launched from a cannon. Yes, she did have some, but none in working condition. Instead, one of her crewmates, Russel, said he’d take care of it and to wait in the front car. Allison brought Ray, Pierre, and Aurora a can of ginger ale in the meantime.

“It ain’t much, but it hits the spot. Dawn’s going to be breaking soon,” Allison looked out the window.

“Mm,” Pierre hummed as he chugged down his can of soda. He let out a belch, then said, “you know, I brew the best ginger beer. It’s at Ray and I’s place.”

“Oh yeah? We might have to rob that from you guys sometime,” Allison said. She was far too cheerful about such a prospect.

Ugh. That reminds me…

“Hey. Aurora. I’ve got another deal for you.”

“Yes, dear?” Aurora’s eyes fluttered. Something about being bested at leg wrestling really changed her demeanor.

“I want you to stop robbing Ray and his husband’s establishment.”

“Nu-uh. What’s in it for me?” Aurora crossed her fingers.

“I’m not telling you to quit your lifestyle – how about this? You avoid robbing their place, and they’ll give you and your crew free food for life.”

“What?! What’s in it for us?!” Pierre balked.

“An interesting proposal, but one that we would have to agree to as well, no?” Ray said while stroking his chin.

“Simple: Aurora, you refer anyone you rob to eat at Ray’s diner. He’ll get customers. You’ll get free food. Sound good?”

Aurora shrugged.

“Eh. Yeah. Sure. Maybe I’m just getting on with age, but that sounds fine.”

She didn’t sound too enthusiastic, but better than nothing.

“And if they go back on the deal,” she added, “I could just have my crew shoot ‘em.”

“There’s no need to go that far. I’d be happy to have you as a business partner,” Ray held out his hand. Aurora shook it while looking away and whistling.

The door to the train car opened. Out popped Russell with his thick brown facial hair and his thick, gray sweater and gray flappy hat.

“It’s ready,” he announced. “Got a big slingshot on the roof.”

Along with the announcement, he reached behind and tossed me a parachute.

“Thanks, RJ!”

“Uh-huh,” he growled. It sounded like a happy growl.

“I forgot that guy’s a construction expert,” Aurora said.

“Oh? You mean to tell me he’s --”

“Yeah. Into model trains.”

Thank goodness there was someone on a train who was into model trains. Always an essential crewmate to have.

“Now, here’s the plan: I want you to accelerate until we get close to the side of the first island. Once we’re close, hit the brakes. I’ll be on the roof, preparing the sling.”

“Are you insane? That’s going to send you --” Pierre was about to protest, but I cut him off.

“Yeah. I want Aurora to send me flying.”

Ray chuckled.

“I think I see now why my other self fell for you.”

“Damn right. I wanna get in her pants,” Aurora agreed.

“Well, I’ll have to give the other Ray and Aurora plenty of love when I get back home,” I gave them a thumbs up and climbed onto the roof.

Before I reached the top, Ray stopped me.

“Hey. You had better live to tell the tale.”

I winked.

The train accelerated and the brisk air caught up with me. I felt icicles form on my nostrils. The wind and icy air caused my air to set backward. I didn’t care. My racing heartbeat told me all I needed to know.

The sky grew brighter. What was deep purple turned into a light, frosty view. It was enough to make me reflect on some things. But not for long, as the island, with billowing flames blocking the way, came into view.

“NOW!” I shouted. “HIT THE BRAKES!”

I pulled the sling back and readied the parachute. I was going to do this.

Just as the train slammed to a halt, near the edge of the shore, there were a few bumps from the train cars in the back and I let go of the sling, soaring into the air in the process.

My parachute opened up midway through the air. I spread my arms out and grinned the whole way, the wind propelling me forward. It still didn’t look like I was high enough...but…

Whether I would become a shooting star or go down in flames, I knew I was going to make it.

[yeehawpim]

[st4ngray]

Flowey collective [part 2] cause I still desperately need him to explode /affectionate

[ghostbsuter]

"Elle—" Danny turns around, finally taking his eyes off of the paperwork he's been reading while they were floating through the castle.

Only that wasn't Ellie behind him.

Definitely a teenager, older than his sister, whistling while looking around.

"Who are you? Where is Ellie?"

Pausing as he noticed Danny's stare at him, Kon grins. "Superboy, Dani and are in the same Clone Club, she needed someone to cover for her."

"Ah."

"But damn she didn't tell me you were loaded."

[bababaka]

Yall need to interact with fanfiction author's more.

So. After the ddos attack on ao3.

I was encouraged to write more comments and make my love known to fanfic writers.

I dont really like commenting. Because im a bit shy and soooo lazy.

Now though. I am writing more comments. And dude. This is so heartwarming. Ya'll need to treat writers better. They are doing the lord's work.

Take for an example, couple of days prior, i was searching for something interesting to read, and found an oneshot quite compelling.

I read it. At the end of it, i was blown away by how good it was. It promised me something and it went beyond my expectations. But then i saw a crime, zero fucking comments!

At that moment, i wasn't feeling up to writing a comment. Because, normally i like to write huge paragraphs. But because im lazy i decided to be brief.

Next day, the author answered that the comment lift their mood for the whole day.

That warmed my heart.

Duuuuuuuude! Write comments! Suport the writers of the fics you like! No need to be something super elaborate. Just give your thoughts. Freak out. Ramble. Ask something. Make theories. Compliment. Make a joke about how you wished to give kudos every chapter but ao3 sucks(not true bby) and won't let you.

Truly. Just. Comment. It can make someone's day. And that is part of the apeal of writing fics. Interacting with people.

Just give love to fanfic writers yall. They deserve this and so much more.

[scribbyizhere]

does anybody feel Zesty abt ldr Sun?? oh hey yeah not me pffft nah. spirals

love death and rollerskates by @spadillelicious

[darby-rowe]

୨୧; rafe cameron decided to come over

18+ | nsfw | mdni

cw fem!reader, slight dubcon, gagging on fingers, usage of the word “bitch”, creampie

you were forgetting something. rafe had you pinned down with vice grips on your forearms and something kept nagging at the void in the back of your mind. it was plans you had made. important plans, you couldn’t remember.

it was always like this when rafe shoved his tongue inside your mouth, already feeling his bulge ready to bust out of his jeans as he ground against your pelvis like some salivating, hungry dog. it made your mind into a white room. already so dumb with your brain cloudy and unwilling to cooperate with your smart mind.

smart girl you were, but rafe liked you brainless.

brainless, like how your eyes went blank and glassy as his large cock sank deep inside you. the muttering that flooded out of his mouth seemed to enter your ear then out the other, but you could make out him saying stuff along the lines of, “fuck, such a good pussy. such a good fuckin’ pussy.”

rafe wasn’t a gentle lover, either. he fucked you hard and deep, making sure your cervix knew the head of his cock like you knew the back of your hand. gripping your jaw so tight it made you whimper, he told you to “open wide, baby” before shoving his fingers far down your throat in an attempt to emulate the gargling noises you made when his dick was in your mouth.

the sound of knocking at your front door and notifications from your phone coaxed your brain back from its cock-drunk fog. rafe was quick to slap your hand away when you went to grab for your phone, taking it in his own hand and forcing the screen in your face to activate its face id.

“here,” rafe read your text messages with a perplexed yet intrigued tone to his voice. “it’s your friends. seems like they’re at the front door, but don’t worry. ’m almost done with ya. they can have ya after me,”

carelessly, rafe tossed your phone onto your carpeted bedroom floor and quickened the pace. “gonna dump my load in this pussy — mmh — then you can run off with your friends, yeah? c’mon, don’t get all shy now. what? your friends don’t know how you take my dick every single fucking day? don’t get all fucking quiet on me now, bitch. this pussy is mine,”

with you, it didn’t take long for rafe to shoot his warm cum deep inside you, filling you up and letting him watch as his seed oozes out of you. the cleanup was subpar at best, and your hair and makeup were fucked up after spending precious time on making yourself look nice.

god, you hated how inconsiderate rafe could be about your social life that wasn’t entirely about him. like clockwork, however, rafe always decided to come over at the worst times.

[magniloquent-raven]

Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends

and for my next (LATE, SO LATE) @bucktommypositivityweek contribution. KITTEN FIC.

(read on ao3)

**

The 118 doesn't have a baby box.

In fact there aren't any in the state of California at all. Buck looked it up, after Maddie's postpartum episode. When half his family was missing and there wasn't much he could do besides wait and... think about things.

So he thought about safe haven laws. Read up on the training seminars for first responders who want to be better equipped to deal with hand-offs. Read a bunch of other stuff he sort of wishes he hadn't. Spent the next week haunted by articles about abandoned children.

He considered talking to Bobby about it. Only partly to ask him if they should get a box for the firehouse. Partly because Buck wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, and Bobby always seemed to have answers. But he never worked up the nerve to broach the subject.

And now. Bobby's not captain anymore, and Buck really can't imagine Gerrard giving a shit about any of this.

So, they don't have a box. But.

Well, this isn't a human baby. It's not like the same rules apply.

Buck has to wonder if wires got crossed somewhere, because. Someone left a kitten. Outside the firehouse.

Buck was just going to grab something—he can't remember what—from his Jeep, when he spotted an unlabelled cardboard box on the pavement, up against the side of the building. His first thought was bomb.

Until it meowed at him. A tiny, high-pitched peep of a meow.

Kind of scared the shit out of him, if he's being honest.

There's only one. All alone in the box. A poofy grey thing wriggling around half buried in an off-white towel. Like a very ambitious dust bunny with big round blue eyes and skinny legs. It wobbles slowly over a fold in the towel with all the effort of someone scaling a mountain.

Buck crouches next to the box, and pokes a finger inside.

"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, holding very still while the kitten inches towards his hand and squeaks. It's unclear whether there are teeth in that little maw. That means it's really young, right? Too young to be left alone for very long.

Shit, how is he going to explain this to Gerrard? He's still got, like, 12 hours left on his shift, but someone has to feed this thing. How long can kittens go without food?

Oh, it does have teeth. Really teeny ones. They're ineffectively poking his knuckle.

Buck fishes his phone out of his jacket—with the hand that isn't currently being drooled on—intending to go to Google for answers. How to figure out how old a kitten is. How often do kittens need to be fed. Do cats get separation anxiety. He has a million questions.

Only he doesn't pull up his browser. He calls Tommy.

It's a whim. Barely a seed of an idea. But when he unlocked his phone the first thing he saw was their text history (he'd been complaining about Gerrard off-and-on all morning, and Tommy had been sending random updates about all the chores he'd been getting done—his last message was a picture of a mop with no context) and he just thought... Tommy will know what to do. Not in so many words, more a feeling. Comfort and certainty, just from seeing Tommy's picture in a little bubble at the top of his screen.

"Evan?" Tommy answers almost immediately, and there's a subtle undercurrent of worry in his tone. Buck winces. Right, calling out of the blue while he's at work would look. Bad.

"I'm okay!" He says quickly, all in one breath. Then pauses. The kitten squints up at him, meowing again, long and loud. Its whole fluffy face scrunches with the effort.

"...What was that?"

"Uh. That would be why I called, actually."

—

Gerrard is less of an obstacle than Buck feared he'd be. Because he's holed up in his office doing paperwork when Buck sneaks in with the kitten, and Buck's decided he has no intention of letting him know the cat was ever here.

Tommy promised he'd come get her.

Buck didn't even really ask, and wasn't planning on asking. Didn't have any plan whatsoever, in fact. He just wanted to know if Tommy knew anything about taking care of kittens, and suddenly Tommy's voluntarily sacrificing the rest of his day off to scope out vets and pet supply stores and whatever else Buck's helpless little friend might need.

He hung up hours ago and his insides still feel warm and goopy about it. He can't stop thinking about the gentle fondness that softened Tommy's voice after Buck explained the situation. Buck would wrap himself up in it like a blanket if he could.

Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.

In the meantime, Buck's sitting upstairs, working his way through the dozen or so tabs he opened up after googling kitten care.

He thinks the one he found might be around three weeks old (ears not quite unfurled, can't sheathe claws yet, legs unsteady but mobile). And possibly a girl. She did not care for being picked up and turned over, and the indignant squirming made it difficult to tell what's going on down there. But he's almost certain he's right.

She was shrieking up a storm about it, and he was worried if he took any longer she'd alert Gerrard. (She didn't. She did, however, draw the attention of about half the firehouse.)

"You are disgustingly cute," Chimney coos, scratching under her chin with the tip of one finger. She's lifted her head as high as she can and her eyes are squinted happily. Buck can hear her purring from across the room. "Yes you are. Hen, can you get a picture of this?"

Hen pulls out her phone. "Sure... why?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to snap a picture and eye him with mild suspicion.

"Jee. She'll wanna see when I tell her about my day."

Her expression softens to a smile. "I'll text it to you." She taps her screen a couple times. "Just had to make sure you weren't planning on calendar campaigning again."

Chimney grins. "Nah, my calendar days are behind me. The only person who gets shirtless pictures of me now is my wife."

"Gross," Buck says without conviction. He narrows his eyes at the site he's scrolling through, swiping away a Join Our Mailing List! popup. "You guys don't think she's cold do you? Are her ears warm? It's only, like, 70 today and we don't know how long she was out there."

Hen and Chim exchange glances, and then, disturbingly in sync, look from the cat to Buck. Chim gives her ear a perfunctory poke, which she does not appreciate as much as chin scritches, "She's fine, man."

Hen waves a hand at Buck when he opens his mouth again, "We're medical professionals. And in my medically professional opinion. She's fine."

"Okay, but—"

"Hey guys, look who stopped b—uhhh. Is that a cat?" Eddie slows to a stop at the top of the stairs, blinking at the kitten on the couch. "When did we get a cat?"

"Couple hours ago," Buck says, still frowning at Hen and Chimney. "Where have you been?"

"I found him polishing the engine."

Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"

He only half-hears Eddie muttering, "Favouritism," as he scuttles around the chair to meet Tommy halfway between the stairs and the sitting area. Tommy has just enough time to smile—and it warms Buck, like it always does, with a spark caught in his chest for safekeeping—and say hi before Buck's on him, palms clapped on either side of his face, smushing their lips together.

He makes a bit of a show of it, dramatically swooping in, because he knows the big smacking MWAH will make Tommy laugh, and he likes the way that feels rumbling against his chest.

Buck taps their noses together. "Hey," he says, savouring the mirth sparkling in Tommy's eyes for a second before kissing him again, properly this time.

His brain goes sort of fuzzy when Tommy's palm cups the back of his neck.

Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.

When they finally come up for air Tommy asks, "What was that for?" a little breathlessly, which is doing things to Buck.

"Mmn...y'know. For being you."

Tommy raises his eyebrows, kiss-reddened lips curling fondly. "Okay."

"Hey, Tommy. Good to see you," Chim calls in a very pointed way.

Right, public setting. Workplace. Friends watching. Buck exhales slowly, and tries to think about anything other than how much he wants to bite that bit of clavicle peeking out of the collar of Tommy's shirt. Like the fact that Tommy's hands are warm, and he's sort of rubbing his fingertips over the short stubbly bits of hair on the back of Buck's head, and Buck's lips are still tingling a little, and—no wait, not that either.

Tommy pulls away first, which is probably for the best, but also very sad. The corner of his mouth twitches like he can see Buck thinking it. He curls his index finger and gently taps Buck's chin with the knuckle before he turns to the group.

"Howie," he says, not even pretending to be contrite in the face of Chim's mock-judgement. "Hen."

"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.

Some time during all the kissing, Eddie moved over to the couch. He's sat next to the kitten, watching her attempt to groom her paw with all the grace of a toddler who's only a little bit sure they know how to hold a brush. She keeps starting and stopping at random intervals, sometimes licking the cushion beside her, sometimes sticking her tongue out at thin air.

She's so cute it makes Buck's chest hurt. It's a little much while he's still loopy from making out with his boyfriend.

Then Tommy goes and crouches next to the couch so he can get eye-level with the kitten while she sniffs his hand, talking to her all calm and soft with smile-lines crinkling his cheeks, and. Buck might need to lie down for a bit. Like, on top of Tommy, preferably.

The kitten seems to like him too, and he really can't blame her when she crawls up Tommy's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.

She looks so much smaller cuddled up on Tommy. He reaches up to steady her, and she's almost entirely obscured by his hand.

God, is it wrong that he's getting a little hot under the collar about that? He just looks so strong and competent and at the same time, like, gentle. Buck knows how it feels to be touched tenderly by those hands, and apparently just seeing it happen does not affect him any less. In fact it's only added dimensions to his desires.

"I should probably get going," Tommy says, bringing Buck back down to Earth with a resounding splat.

He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it. He's right. The last thing Buck wants is for Tommy to have another run-in with Gerrard, and they don't know how long the old bastard's gonna be occupied.

"Mhm, run while you still can," Chimney pipes up. "Before our dear old captain smells an opportunity to ruin someone's day."

"He does seem to have a sixth sense for that," Eddie adds sullenly. Buck makes a note to ask him what that was about. Later.

"I'll walk you out," Buck says, trying not to sound like a pouting child. He's fairly certain he fails, because Tommy laces their fingers together and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.

He says his goodbyes, the whole time being careful not to dislodge the kitten while she crawls across his shoulders.

Buck goes through the list of kitten care basics he memorized as they make their way to the parking lot. It's...more than he thought it was, honestly. It starts to feel overwhelming as he goes on, and on, and on. He's running out of time to get it all out, and he feels like it's just now sinking in his huge this responsibility that he's dumping in Tommy's lap is.

"You're sure you don't mind taking her?" The question bursts out of Buck before they make it to Tommy's car. "W-we didn't really, I mean. We talked about it over the phone, but..."

"Yeah, now that I've seen her she does seem like a real handful."

The kitten yawns, and curls up into a tiny grey ball in the crook of Tommy's neck.

Well. Alright.

"It's just, t-they need a lot of attention when they're that young, and I kinda just, just dropped this on you."

"Evan." Tommy gives him a look. "Are you worried that you baby-trapped me?"

Okay, when he puts it like that. Maybe a little bit. But also now he's having complicated yearning feelings that he really should not be having this early in the relationship.

Buck's pretty sure he looks like a deer in the headlights right now, because Tommy's doing his damnedest to pretend he isn't laughing at him.

He tugs Buck's hand, leading him the rest of the way to his car.

The backseat is full of cat stuff. Containers of milk-replacement powders, and a shiny plastic litter box, and toys, so many toys, baggies of fake mice and feathery things, just. So much stuff. Piles of it.

"I called up a friend who used to foster kittens. She had a lot of advice. And then I got a little carried away."

"I, uh. See that," Buck laughs breathlessly.

"Over the phone, you sounded like this meant a lot to you? And I think I got really attached to the idea of...this. Taking care of her for you. With you." He sounds hesitant, like he's trying not to say too much, and Buck can't stand it—

"I love you so much," he says in a rush.

"Well, good," Tommy purses his lips around a smile, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. He reaches up to his shoulder, like he's absent-mindedly checking to see if the kitten's still there. "Wouldn't want her to grow up in a broken home."

Buck huffs a laugh.

"And I love you too."

[m1d-45]

will you promise that i'll see you again?

summary: your people refuse reason, and their damage refuses to heal. when it seems as if the whole world has left you, your dutiful knight still remains by your side.

word count: 2.3k

-> warnings: implied suicidal ideation (reader + unnamed side character), reader's previous deaths are mentioned in somewhat graphic detail

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @yuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

“you’re one of the only things keeping me going, you know.”

dainslef turned to you in surprise, the even neutrality to your tone a sharp contrast to the rapid pace of his heart. he wasn’t a fool, he knew that the hunt had to be taking a heavy toll on you, but this…

this was more than he expected.

he knew he was one of a pitiful few who saw through celestia’s false puppet, who knew you for you and not their mirage. he knew that the entire world was hellbent on erasing you from existence, that you’d been forced through your own death countless times as teyvat pulled you apart and pushed you back together far from the scene of your would-be murder. he saw the golden scars across your skin, the dried remains of blood lining the wounds you hadn’t been able to patch yet. he’d been the one to wash them away, not minding the refuse soaking into his gloves if it meant your hands could be clean.

he recognized the dull exhaustion in your eyes, the same as the ones he saw in the reflections of lakes. tired, worn, barely there, hanging on by one solitary string that was wound so tightly around a desperate hand.

you had always been his reason for continuing. when the traveller broke down and the ruler of the abyss hid from the sun, you were there. when the chasm’s mud clung to his boots and the memories in his head burned as nails forced between his eyes, you were there. his rosary was kept tight to his chest at all times, familiar prayers pulling him up in the morning and forcing him to sleep at night. he was alive for far, far too long, but you made it bearable. you were his duty, his promise.

he never once thought that he’d be yours. then again, he never thought that he’d have to defend you from the ones you once called friends. time never did pass how he expected it to.

“…leading light?”

you looked down, twirling blades of grass around your fingers. he had led you up to a mostly desolate area of sumeru, west of bayda harbor. it close enough to the sea, forest, and desert that you could reasonably make an escape through any of those routes if need be, while also providing a rather pleasant view. the sky was bleeding red and gold as the sun sank below the horizon, a remarkable sight that fell on blind eyes. there was no use trying to enjoy nature’s beauty when he still kept one hand on his sword and both ears pricked for the slightest sign of danger.

you shouldn’t have to worry about your safety. you shouldn’t have to prioritize based on how likely you are to get hurt, or how easily it would be to make an escape. you still flinched when the wind blew a little too quick, used to it heralding armored footsteps and battle cries. in another life, you were welcomed with open arms, able to enjoy yourself without constantly being on high alert. teyvat did what it could to adapt; the air was still, frozen in time, barely a bird chirping for miles. it was meant to be comforting, he thinks, but dead silence was more unnerving than any breeze.

“i mean it.” he could hear every shift in his cloak around your shoulders, the heavy fabric doing little to soothe your stress. it was yours more than it was his now, to the point he felt claustrophobic wearing it. how long had he been traveling with you? the days blurred.

“i don’t doubt you.” he never would. never could. he’s not sure, even if he somehow wanted to, that his body would allow him to treat your words as anything less than fact. “but i don’t understand what you mean.”

you were a god. the creator, the first, the one that shaped the sovereigns scales and laid the foundations of earth. you predated the archons, celestia, the very skies themselves…

and he, somehow, was a driving motivation for you?

his words must have been funny, a sharp laugh tumbling out of your mouth. it was bitter, humorless, and somewhat raspy. he made note to find some water for you later. “what else could i mean?” you turn to him, some of his confusion lost as your eyes found his. even this burnt out, deep bags set beneath them, you still managed to steal the very air in his lungs. “you’re the only reason i’m still here.”

he didn’t know what to say. what was there to be said, when you were you and he was him? when the world had abandoned you, it made sense you’d cling to what remained faithful. it was merely coincidence he happened to find you first, that’s all. coincidence that you trusted enough not to run from, coincidence that you allowed to care for your injuries. there was nothing to say, because you held nothing for him in particular, only leaning on him out of need. he had to believe that. what was he left with if that wasn’t true? an awkward truth hid beneath his well-known lies, too large for him to see the edges, let alone to contain.

“please… do not say such things again.” to ask of his god what he could not ask of himself was surely some form of heresy, as was willingly laying aside his guard when he was the only one who was tasked with protecting you. he pulled his attention from the tide below, from the rustling trees, holding faith that the world would not be needlessly cruel. he stepped forward, kneeling beside you. even up close, you still seemed painfully small. “it is your own resilience that has allowed you to persevere.”

it’s the earth that leads you from danger.

it’s the water that follows you wherever you go.

it’s the leylines that whisk you to safety.

it’s the wind that warns you of what’s to come.

it’s the you from the past that protects the you in the present.

it’s the you in the present that provides for the you in the future.

it’s you, from everywhere and everywhen, continuing to fight.

and yet you sigh. you look away, across the sea, tracing fontaines skyline. “it really isn’t. i was lucky to run into you when i did.”

you had just crossed the wall back into the forest, burning hot and shaking. he was the lucky one, in truth, to be able to pick your figure out from the sand below. perched on a high cliffside, even mitachurls were reduced to small brown flecks.

you had worn a cryo mage’s cloak, which was what initially drew his attention. abyss activity wasn’t uncommon in the area, but a cryo mage in the desert… that was cause for intrigue. he stepped forward and slid down the steep face in front of him, a slight puff of dust marking his landing in the desolate sand of old vanarana.

he didn’t know what to expect. you stumbled around the jagged remains of a tree, heading for the statue of the seven. he followed, only growing more confused. cryo and dendro did not react with each other, and there was no way to “slow” a statue. a scouting mission, maybe? but why a cryo mage, when pyro would have been far more advantageous in the case of an attack?

he leaned around the corner carefully, prepared for the sight of a staff or the chanting of abyssal magic filling the air. the entire world seemed to be holding its breath, frozen in place and waiting for some trigger to continue.

he saw none of that. you were collapsed at the foot of the statue, faint wheezing only making it to his ears by virtue of the standstill around him. you held no staff, commanded no magic, your chest barely moving with air.

he’d never seen a mage seek out the archons when dying. one hand squeezed the handle of his sword as he crept forward, ready to strike should the situation turn against him. the sand barely shifted beneath his feet, his own heart sounding too loud to his ears. you did not move, showing no signs that you had noticed his approach. he still didn’t trust it.

your cloak was tattered and torn, with thick gloves atypical of a mage. they reminded him more of hilichurl wraps, which was strange considering you wore no mask. your face was instead covered by what looked like eremite cloth, just as stained and dirtied as the rest of your clothes. what he could see looked almost human; in another life, he could believe you were a weary traveller, lost amidst the sand.

he was acting foolish. if the abyss had a human tool, he needed to figure out why. he reached down, undoing the sloppy knot of your veil and letting the brocade fall limply to the grass.

…grass. he blinked, eyes flickering between the ground and your face, not sure which was harder to believe. flowers had bloomed around you, protecting your body from the blazing sands, and he’d be a fool not to recognize the face plastered all over every bounty board.

he didn’t understand. if nothing else, he thought the archons would have enough respect for their creator to know when they were being lied to, yet before him was barely living proof of the inverse. sweat beaded along every inch of exposed skin, deep-set heat exhaustion burning you from the inside out. how could you be a threat? how could they be so blind?

he looked again, the shine of elemental sight straining his eyes, catching flickers of the dendro energy pouring from the statue. you were the only one the archons would feed. you were the only one to make the very earth break its own rules, allowing lotuses to bloom from barren soil. something painfully similar to rage threatened what remained of his rationality, and it took all he had to push it aside.

that didn’t matter. if he went off on some banal revenge quest, he’d be no better than them. your safety mattered more. he picked you up and set aside how calm his curse felt, beginning the trek back to his camp. behind him, the flowers already began to wither, losing their persistence without you to foster it.

perhaps that initial meeting was luck. but these was no luck involved in your trust in him. when you woke up and saw him at your side, you chose to trust him. you chose to believe that he was not like the others, that he would protect you, and he was forever grateful for that trust. nobody could fault you for being angry, for being spiteful about what you were put through and choosing to lash out. nobody would have the right to be upset if you chose to vent your wrath against those that had hurt you.

but you didn’t. you chose, again and again, to believe in the world. you chose to let them live their lives, even if it meant getting hurt again in the process. you chose a quiet life traveling with him over the comfortable life on your throne. to willingly choose to travel with a disgraced knight to spare your people guilt… he couldn’t decide if it was noble or reckless. either way, he was selfishly happy that he was the one to stay by your side.

“i won’t try to convince you. but, please.. do not give up on yourself so easily.” i know far too many who have died by the same hand. “the world and its opinion does not define you. only you get to decide where fate leads.”

you lean towards him, and he thinks you might have passed out- but no, your head lands on his shoulder with far too much precision. he stiffens, not used to existence without a constant pain beneath his skin. “how motivational. you tell all your soldiers that?”

his heart is beating too quickly, thoughts unusually hard to grasp. you’re the only one who could have this effect on him. he only wished it wasn’t now, when your belief in yourself was on the edge. “i mean it. none of this is your fault, and neither are celestial actions the people’s fault. i know that you are hurt, but i don’t want you to accept that main needlessly. you shouldn’t have to view your creation with such pain.” slowly, carefully, he raises the hand closer to you, doing his best not to disturb you as he settles it on your arm. he’s can only hope that the contact brings you as much comfort as it does him. “if nothing else, believe me. promise you’ll at least try.”

he doesn’t think you’ll agree. why would you make a promise to one who represents the heaven’s betrayal? why would you let him hold you close at all, when you can surely sense the bindings of those who tried to kill you wrapped tightly around his soul? he doesn’t know. all he can do is hope.

“…alright, dainslef. i promise.”

twilight has long since fallen, and yet he smiles for the first time in centuries.

[recycledraccoon]

I have evolved into Scuttlespring anon, just say anything about them. I love them so much

THE ANON PANTHEON GROWS

Ok so. Gorgug likes Mary Ann because she absolutely infuriates him but also, and perhaps more importantly, because she has a type of confidence I think a younger Gorgug would have deeply envied. She's so weird, but entirely sure of herself. She likes what she likes and anyone who would have a problem with that is absolutely beneath her notice. She has friends not despite her oddities, but because she refuses to bend about them and that confidence is incredibly attractive in a person. Mary Ann Skuttle see's something she wants and she just...goes and gets it, easy peasy. Tiny little kobald strides, but when she puts her foot down with force, Gorgug thinks she could crush a mountain under with nothing so much as a blink or falter of her stride. She's certainly physically strong enough for it, and while Gorgug is undisputedly the better fighter, Mary Ann has a physical strength hidden under soft pastel pink hoodies and can, has, and will knock Gorgug on his ass. Gorgug got THRASHED at those Bloodrush field tryouts, and I'm certain he probably got his ass handed to him more than once during the year while at practice but before he quit the team. She made him so damn mad, everything that year was, and endlessly kind Gorgug got real mean to her over it. She was better than him, more casually confident, and didn't blink ONCE at his outburst. And later? When she was resurrected and freed from possession? He talks to her, acknowledges that it was just a game but he had been actually mad to be so easily knocked aside. He never really had to work at Bloodrush to be good at it, he just was, until suddenly she proved herself better.

And yet, without flinching, Mary Ann, famous for not giving a shit but listening to Gorgug say how much he had, just....asks if he has a girlfriend. Unparalleled confidence, shooting a shot he was unprepared for. Planets aligned even as his own orbit was knocked off course. And then, when he admits he doesn't even know where to get a quokki pet, something its been explicitly known to be something she really cares about? She writes down her number, letting him see that folded paper. She initiated this, and he got swept up in it, but instead of just handing over the number and allowing him to be swept up- Mary Ann Skuttle puts the number away and tells him shes gonna put it where you get quokki pets, and if he wants her number he's going to have to go get it. He's not allowed to just be swept up in the force of her, she wants him to put in effort, prove to her and himself that this isn't just a moment but a starting point. He cant be swept up by the tide, he's gotta swim. Gorgug liked Zelda, but their relationship started because they thought she was in danger and Gorgug had the best in. He stumbled into that relationship unsure and off balance, he never would have had the confidence to pursue Zelda without his friends hands on his back and their advice in his ears. Later on he gets more serious, he did love her and he put in the work to maintain that relationship, but it didn't work out and that's ok. Ever confident Mary Ann tho? She doesn't want unsure stumbling steps into this relationship. If Gorgug doesn't make the active decision to chase her, to WANT to be with her and putting deliberate effort to get there, then she doesn't want him at all. Gorgug, confused, asking where you even GET a quokki pet? And she smirks, calls him a loser, and walks away leaving him reeling and dumbfounded. Mary Ann Skuttle wants Gorgug to work for this. And who is Gorgug Thistlespring, but someone who puts in the work for things he wants? He did the seemingly impossible by creating his own subclass of Barbaficer, even if he had to take four years of schooling all at once. He puts in the work and makes the impossible possible, the greatest wizard of this age. So yeah. Yeah. Gorgug Thistlespring likes Mary Ann Skuttle because she makes him work for it.

[lizardbrainlabs]

sketched out all the human partners!!!

[choccy-milky]

Hello there!

I've been a huge fan of your art of Seb and Clora here on Tumblr for quite some time now. Maybe a year? Idk time is weird aksbjs. Anyway, I'm an artist myself, and I was just wondering, put simply, whats your art process? Like how you shade and color and stuff.

Anyway, have a nice day! And uh- sorry if this is awkward sksbdn.

DAMN youve basically been here since day 1 THANK YOUU😭 im glad you like my stuff!! and ur not awkward at all!!🥹💖💖 and i actually posted a timelapse of my process on twitter not that long ago, so ill post it here as well!

as you can see seb takes me the longest LMAOO hes such a menace for me to draw still...and i dont even think seeing my process helps since its just so much trial and error and warping until it looks right BAHAHA (this is from like a month ago and i ALREADY think seb looks off here too 💀) but my process is super simple, i just colour and cell shade on multiply and then i add a grain texture on soft light 10% at the end. i dont rly do anything fancy for colouring, bc i used to over-render my art and make it really complicated, but now im a fan of just having it look kinda...flat? if that makes sense LOL. i like it aesthetically AND its also easier. OH also something i add to the end of almost all my pieces is this auto-action from clip studio assets which basically adjusts the hue/saturation/brightness. here's an example of what the original flat colours look like vs. when i add this filter:

even if you dont have clip studio the same effect could be achieved with just manually tweaking with the hue/saturation levels afterwards, but i like this filter just cuz its easy and makes the colours more how i like them HOPE THIS HELPS💖💖

[mxwhore]

Idk if you already got this request a while back but ever since I saw your sphinx Martin I would think what about a Harpy Jon to go with him

i hadnt actually! very fun to think about

[chessb0r3d]

i cracked the code.

[coolnonsenseworld]

Samurai and Ninja in crappy pics because December here is under a constant cloud and I just want y'all to see them all golden and cute without learning how to take aesthetic pictures 🥴 💙❤️😆🥰

linktr.ee/Mezzy

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Robin landed on the roof next to him and Bruce could already feel the headache building. They were looking down on a young blond man with pointed ears and a large halberd on his backriding on a white horse. The guy looked like he had come straight out of a fairytale. He knew that if this was a new rogue Damian would argue about keeping the horse. Actually he would probably want to keep the horse even if he wasn't a rogue.

Deciding the guy had gotten close enough they swooped down to confront him. The man, startled, stopped his horse and pulled the large halberd off his back. He held it in front of him, as if in warning. The man looked wary of them but not afraid. They stared at eachother for a moment before the man spoke in a language neither Batman not his Robin knew.

---

Link was having a wierd day. He had literally just saved Princess Zelda a week ago (and for the second time) when he encountered some kind of demon in black and white. The Master Sword glowed in the demons presence which was all Link needed to know before chasing after the being. The thing, looking like a teen in odd clothing that reminded him of links own rubber suit, bolted into a green portal it had created.

Not hesitating he had his horse leap into it. And now he was in a strange place with no sign of the demon. After getting attacked by a man yelling in a language he didn't recognize, he switched out his sword for a halberd for that extra reach on horseback and continued on his way, leaving the unconscious man on the road side behind him.

This place was odd. Parts of some walls would light up, showing images of people and places he didn't know along with a written language he didn't recognize. He came across many people who looked at him oddly...or at least he thought they were people. They looked like Hylians but most of them were taller than the average Hylian and to Links horror they had short rounded ears. How could they hear thier gods with such tiny ears?

He was scared, but he carried on anyway. Eventually he gets confronted by someone dressed as a monster and a child. They manage to settle thier...dispute?...without violence so that was nice. He pulled a few apples and swift carrots out of his tablet-to the curiosity of the duo- and hands them to the child. The kid caught on quickly and raced off to feed his horse her favorite snacks.

Link will have to figure out how to overcome this language barrier

Bruce however, has discovered this was not a man, but a teenager lost in a foreign world and is set on adopting him.