#gosh this was fun to write

[cj-the-random-artist]

I don’t know how I managed to do this in a day.  Like.  I think I pumped this out on pure adrenaline

But again.  If ur at the caption ya probably say the PSA spoiler wall that says that this comic contains spoilers for the Limited Life SMP finale.  Well and I’m tagging this as spoilers so it’d be evident anyways lol.  So I won’t write my spiel about go watch the end of Limited Life and I’ll just say oh my god what a finale it was absolutely epic.  I loved every moment of it.

But yeah.  I sketched this out as one of those “ahh silly goofy doodly sketchy sketchbook comics when I’m spewing a thought into my sketchbook” and then.  My impulsiveness (there’s a pun there.  Is it intentional?  That’s for you to decide) won in the end and this exists now.  It’s not the best quality of anything I’ve ever made but gosh darnit it was so much fun to make.  So so much fun.

But yeah.  Limited Life was absolutely amazing from start to finish and every POV was awesome (but if ya can’t tell team TIES is gonna live in my head rent free for a while lol)

That said.  Enjoy this silly little mini comic I made and have a good day :D

[skyward-floored]

I still hold that this part from this fic is one of the funniest things I’ve ever written

[gt-daboss]

Helpful Giant x Spiteful Tinies

This was a fun one to draw :) There's something funny about a giant going out of their way to help only to be met with a (tiny) middle finger despite their efforts, I'd cry ;-;

ALSO... part of why this was so much fun to draw was cuz of the characters, specifically, @tinycoded360's characters, it was really a joy to draw them, especially Tori (the giant) and Mavri (the one sticking it to said giant lol)

[silverskye13]

Mind control tanguish?? (i was gunna offer time loop for the hell-raisers as another one, but ut canon is Basically a time loop aint it SO!! Make tanguish do something wild)

Helsknight hummed tunelessly under his breath as he cooked dinner, piling some chicken and mushrooms into a pan to fry. He didn't know when Tanguish would be home [every trip to Hermitcraft was a gamble, when it came to time] but he figured whenever the little pest came home, he would be hungry. Besides that, Helsknight was hungry, so he might as well do something about it. Worst case scenario, he would just reheat a plate for Tanguish on the furnace when he got here. Or threw away wasted food. The point was he was hungry, so it wasn't wasted time at least. He pulled some flour out from a cabinet, frowning down at it and wondering what his chances of making a decent gravy were.

[Gravy was the bane of cooking. It either turned out like wallpaper paste, or it turned out like soup. Rarely, when every god and saint turned their greatest blessings on Helsknight for a moment, and every star in every heaven aligned, and every angel and allay and fairy-dust creature held its breath and crossed it's fingers, he would make a passable gravy.]

Helsknight sighed, tossed a few spoonfuls of flour into a pan, and resigned to try his luck. He didn't feel very lucky today, but then again, any day he made gravy, he didn't feel lucky, even if it did taste good in the end.

"I should learn how to bake," he grumbled to himself, eyeing the little bag of flour dispassionately. Tanguish would certainly appreciate it, and it would be cheaper to make a batch of muffins from scratch, instead of buying them from a cart four times a week. Helsknight stirred his fledgling gravy absentmindedly, waiting for the flour to brown, and considering his chances of finding a half-decent cookbook the next time he went to the market. Behind him he heard a clatter of claws, the unmistakable noise of Tanguish stepping into hels. A soft breath of chill dampened the room like a breeze. Helsknight threw a glance over his shoulder.

"Hey, what's your opinion on homemade--?"

Instinct made Helsknight slam to the side as Tanguish propelled himself over the kitchen island, Helsknight's rondel dagger in his hand. The point dug itself into the wall over the stove at about chest-height, a very intentional, very lethal lunge. It missed him by a decent margin; Helsknight was quick, even when he was caught off-guard. That one look over his shoulder, and years of Colosseum training and instincts, had saved his life.

Anger, hot and baffled and electric, raced through Helsknight's chest. He backpedaled towards their little dining table as Tanguish yanked the dagger out of the wall. He needed distance, he needed room to move. [He needed a house that wasn't so saints-damned small.]

"Tanguish, what in hels--?!" Helsknight managed before Tanguish was lurching for him again, a sharp, quick, dagger-pointed shadow dappled in flickering stars. Helsknight snapped a hand out, trying to bat him aside, only for Tanguish to duck nimbly beneath his outstretched arm. The dagger stabbed in towards him again, and Helsknight barely twisted away in time.

"Tanguish! Stop!" Helsknight shouted, confusion and adrenaline crashing together in his chest, muddling up his instincts. His training, his impulse, his experience in the Colosseum, demanded he fight back. He was unarmed [why would he stay armed and armored in the safety of his own home, when he planned to stay in the rest of the day?] but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. He knew a few ways of disarming someone with his bare hands, and he knew how to punch, and kick, and break bones. But his louder, conscious mind screamed at him this is Tanguish! He can't break Tanguish.

Tanguish didn't give him long to be horrified by the thought. He was lunging again, arrow-quick, and this time when Helsknight jolted backwards the blade nicked his out-flung arm. He didn't know if he was proud, or if he regretted how sharp the blade was -- his training had come in handy.

[It was marvelous really, how deadly his little pest could be when he put his mind to it. Helsknight had always thought Tanguish learned more than he let on. He was simply too scared of causing harm to use it. But he wasn't scared of causing harm now. No, he seemed hels-bent on shredding Helsknight where he stood, and he didn't know why.]

"Could you at least tell me what the hels I did to bring this on?" Helsknight demanded, a grin writhing across his teeth. It was something he knew intimidated people, intimidated Tanguish. There was something about baring teeth while fighting that seemed dangerous. If Tanguish cared, it didn't show, and he didn't respond. He just crouched low and gazed back at him, eyes half-shut in something like concentration. It gave him the look of a sleepwalker, and Helsknight didn't like it. He was used to the wide, curious, cat-like gaze, glittering in dandelion yellow.

"Tanguish?" Helsknight breathed, taking advantage of the pause. "Look, I don't want to hurt you--"

Tanguish lunged again when he was mid-sentence, something that might have killed him, if he hadn't seen Martyn do it a thousand times. Even with that knowledge, he almost reacted too late, side-stepping and slamming a heavy palm into Tanguish's shoulder, tossing him off-balance. Helsknight let out a short breath through his nose when Tanguish regained his feet, undaunted.

"I'm not running away," Helsknight said witheringly, dashing for the door. He could feel Tanguish following like a wasp over his shoulder, more the impression of danger than a true knowledge of what he was doing. Helsknight ducked out the door and managed to yank it shut behind him before Tanguish could follow, and was treated to a heavy slam as Tanguish tried to follow. Helsknight held it shut for a second, trying to figure out -- trying to figure out anything.

[Would Tanguish try to break down the door? Surely he couldn't. Even as... weirdly determined as he was to harm Helsknight, that wasn't something he was strong enough to do, especially with Helsknight bracing the other side. But the house had windows. Would Tanguish care about glass? It would cut him to ribbons. He could seriously hurt himself if he -- why was he worried about Tanguish jumping through a window? If the little idiot wanted to deal with a face full of glass--]

Helsknight released the doorknob and stepped aside. He needed to get that knife away, pin him still, preferably without hurting him too badly. His guts gave an uncomfortable squirm.

[How bad is too bad? And why? Why was this happening? It wasn't just strange, it just wasn't Tanguish. He didn't have a dangerous bone in his body.]

The doorknob clicked. Helsknight pressed himself against the wall, hiding behind the door as it swung open. He just needed a few seconds. He was stronger -- that's all he needed. Tanguish stepped onto the street, and before he had the chance to look around, Helsknight lunged forward and wrapped his arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He lifted Tanguish off his feet, trying to keep the thrashing feet from kicking anything.

"Tanguish, I need you to--"

Tanguish's head snapped back suddenly, slamming into Helsknight's mouth and nose. He swore, and his grip loosened, and Tanguish's sharp elbow dug itself into his side hard enough wince away some of his breath. A clawed foot came down on his ankle, and then Tanguish was twisting, and Helsknight, whose only objective narrowed into [don't get stabbed you fucking idiot] drove a punch into Tanguish's sternum. Tanguish's breath left him in a whoosh, and he curled in on himself a little, some sense of self-preservation kicking in. But he didn't cry out in pain, and he didn't drop the knife.

A lancing, twisting feeling darted through Helsknight's guts. It was a feeling so unfamiliar it was nearly foreign, hard to place, and hesitant to name. Dread. Dread as Tanguish turned that sleepwalker's gaze on him again, re-positioned his dagger to continue fighting. His tail gave a contemplative lash, a cat figuring its best approach on a bird, and it had been a long, long time since Helsknight felt like prey. Dread made his mouth dry, closed his throat, blanked his already reeling thoughts.

[What should he do? What could he do?]

Helsknight took a hesitant step back. Tanguish's eyes narrowed, and glittered blue.

[Blue? Blue. A little ring of blue, like a clear, winter's morning, ringed his yellow iris. That hadn't always been there. He knew the color of Tanguish's eyes.]

"Tanguish, talk to me," Helsknight said, taking another hesitant step back. "What happened? Whatever it is, we can fix this. I promise."

Tanguish let out a slow breath, and the blue ring around his iris seemed to flicker, then flashed brighter. Helsknight swore again as Tanguish pounced. He caught Tanguish's wrist, and might have even considered breaking it, had Tanguish not twisted out of his grip in the second of hesitation he gave in to. Helsknight's perception narrowed to the point of the knife as he dodged it, sidestepped it, and then spun on his heel and ran.

Helsknight needed time to think, needed time to figure out what was, whatever was happening. And he was faster than Tanguish. Even if he couldn't fathom harming him, he would always be faster. And armor-less as he was, he felt unnaturally fleet, near to flying. He was down three blocks, into an alley, over a wall and two more blocks over before he stopped, panting, to check for pursuit.

"I'm not running away," he breathed again, to himself, to his Saint, to Tanguish. He wasn't. He just needed time. He just needed to pull himself together, to figure shit out, to stop shaking. To stop shaking? Helsknight looked down at his hands, at the tremor starting. He swallowed hard.

[Okay, he was a little freaked out. He was allowed to be a little freaked out. His best friend was trying to kill him, and he didn't know why, and apparently the veil between "Nice Normal Tanguish" and "Silent Death-Machine Tanguish" was unnervingly thin. And Helsknight wasn't used to someone trying to kill him assassination-style, through dogged pursuit and bloodless silence. He was used to arena fights, and occasional back-alley brawls, where things were loud and obvious and made fucking sense.]

"I'm going to kill him," Helsknight hissed, stealing down the alley as fast as he dared. He didn't know who he was going to kill. Whoever had done this, maybe. Certainly not Tanguish. He hadn't really tried, physically he thought he could, if he'd just commit. But he had no weapon, and his options for killing his best friend [one of a slim handful of people he would gladly die for] were all slow and grim and painful, and not something he would inflict on anyone willingly.

[He would just have to evade, and try to knock some sense into him? But head wounds were difficult. The margin between unconsciousness and death was illusive, and he was a knight for helssakes he didn't bludgeon people. He was so ill-equipped for something like this, it was staggering. But why would he be equipped for his best friend randomly trying to kill him?]

There was a sound. There must have been. The whisper of breathing. The slide of claws. The crackle of gathering frost. Something set Helsknight's hair prickling, the gooseflesh on his arms raised.

[The rooftops.]

Helsknight didn't have time to look up. Suddenly a weight fell on his shoulders, and he was slamming to the ground. Tanguish's hand dug claws into the back of his neck, his knees dug into his shoulders. Helsknight twisted his whole body as hard as he could, wrenching his elbow back to slam into Tanguish's side. He flipped over, throwing Tanguish off him for just a moment. He got an arm underneath himself, tried to scrabble backwards, boots digging into tiles. Tanguish lunged on top of him again, and Helsknight threw a hand between them. A noise escaped his throat as the knife slashed through the webbing between his thumb and his forefinger, but he managed to wrap his fist around the hilt.

Tanguish was on top of him, bearing his full weight down on the dagger, trying to drive it into his throat. Helsknight clenched his bleeding hand around it, while is other arm scrabbled at the cobblestones, and through the haze of half-panic finally found its way around one of Tanguish's wrists. They were too close. He couldn't make full use of his longer arms, his strength, his leverage, and while his feet scrabbled, Tanguish's long tail twisted out for balance, and he held firm.

There was a buzzing starting in the back of Helsknight's mind, a panic he wasn't used to. His hands shook. His hand was bleeding, and it had to be his hand, didn't it?

[Note to self, Tanguish had laughed once, Helsknight is weak to hand wounds.]

He couldn't pass out. Little sparks and stars crowded his peripheral vision, his awareness narrowed itself to the space between his hands, and the slickness of the dagger, and the tear in the webbing between his fingers, and how stupid that was. A Colosseum gladiator, a knight of Blood and Steel, laid low by a flesh wound.

"Tanguish, you don't want to do this," Helsknight grunted, his voice buried beneath the buzzing of panic and his heartbeat in his ears. "You don't want to hurt me."

Tanguish threw his shoulder forward, and the twist sent tearing pain through his hand, and his grip slipped dangerously. Every muscle in his body tightened in dread and desperation, and he screwed his eyes shut as he clenched his bloody fist tighter. An undignified wince of a noise squeezed its way out of his throat, but it was better than screaming.

"Okay! Maybe you want to hurt me. Fine." Helsknight grimaced. He could feel the blood from his hand dripping onto his neck. A dangerous foreshadowing of just where the blade was aimed. "Tell me why. Tell me anything."

He managed to crack an eye open, to blink away the blooming stars. He gripped the knife and a spinning world in his bloody hands, and clung to consciousness and life with equal fervor. And Tanguish watched him, impassive and cold, that little blue ring a persistent chain around his iris. It reminded Helsknight of something, something that made his stomach twist. It took a moment to place a coherent thought to the feelings, a long moment where he breathed and shook and bled, and Tanguish watched.

[Wels. The open sky blue of Wels's eyes. Ice dagger blue. He clawed at his memory for any way that made sense, and in his flailing finally remembered what Tanguish had said about those golden, inescapable commands. How far could they compel? Surely not this far. Surely--]

Helsknight swallowed hard.

[Right. He just needed to break the command. That was all. That was all.]

Helsknight reached into himself for any lie of calm, any ghost of reassurance. He tried to steady his voice. Tried to force command, and calm, and certainty into his words. Stilted and shaky, and hoarsely whispered, he half commanded, half pleaded.

"Tanguish, let go of the knife."

Above him, Tanguish blinked. The pressure on the knife didn't relent, nor did the blue ring around his iris.

"Please let go of the knife."

Tanguish's fist balled tighter, and as it did the knife twisted just barely. He felt the burning in his hand, and Helsknight lost his words behind pain that should have been insignificant, and stars and noise in his head.

"You're scaring me," Helsknight whimpered, and then managed more firmly. "You don't scare people. This isn't you. You don't want to do this to me."

He searched Tanguish's eyes again. Was that a flicker in the blue? He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell.

"Helssakes," he swore. His hand grasping Tanguish's wrist reached up to grab the back of Tanguish's head, fingers tangling in his hair. He wished he could force Tanguish to focus, to center that sleepwalker's stare on something other than his general direction. "If you're going to kill me, look at me."

Tanguish blinked again. There was a shimmer in his eyes, and Helsknight winced as a tear dropped onto his face. A grim smile worked its way onto his teeth. No, that blue ring hadn't flickered. Tanguish had simply started crying.

"You're not going to kill me." Helsknight whispered. He closed his eyes, and his voice was a prayer, and it was a command. "You're not going to kill me."

He couldn't tell how much of the shaking in his arm was from him, or from Tanguish. He couldn't tell if the pain in his hand was from pressure, or from the wound. But he knew this was hurting them both, and he needed it over with, one way or another.

"You're not going to kill me."

Helsknight had been killed by wounds to his neck before. The Colosseum was a terrible place to die sometimes. He told himself he could bear it. Told himself if the pain came, he would try to hide the terribleness of it. He wouldn't gasp, or scream, or any of the other horrible, dramatic thrashings a person could do when they bled. He would make himself small and silent. He would respawn, if he could, and he would find his way back here, and he would find a way to fix this. Helsknight released Tanguish, and, eyes closed, braced himself for whatever happened next.

He couldn't stop himself from flinching when a few more teardrops fell on his face. But the blade didn't come. Helsknight dared to crack an eye open.

"Tanguish?"

Tanguish moved, and Helsknight stiffened, only to relax again when the blade clattered to the ground beside them. Helsknight let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and before Tanguish could scramble away from him, or devolve into a blubbering mess, or shake apart or fall under some new spell, or any of a thousand other things Tanguish could probably do, Helsknight wrapped his arms around Tanguish's neck and dragged him into a hug.

"Helsknight--"

"You idiot," Helsknight snapped, crushing Tanguish against his chest. He had the grace to drag them over to the side, so he couldn't bleed quite so much on both of them, but when Tanguish squirmed he held him tighter and refused to let him go. "Don't scare me like that again."

"H-helsknight I'm s-"

"You're sorry," Helsknight interrupted him, screwing his eyes shut, suddenly scared he was going to start crying too. From relief. From the ridiculousness of whatever had happened. From the closeness to disaster. From how angry he was that Tanguish felt the need to apologize. "Gods. I thought I'd lost you."

Tanguish had the audacity to laugh, a miserable hiccup of a noise that tangled itself in growing sobs, and muffled itself against Helsknight's chest. "You thought you lost me?"

"You were so quiet," Helsknight said, feeling dread lance through his stomach like a knife wound. "It's like you weren't even there."

"I was there," Tanguish whispered, his fists balled into Helsknight's shirt, like he could somehow cling closer. "I was there."

"Of course you were," Helsknight murmured back. "Of course you were."

[entomolog-t]

Tidying up the ✨actual character sheet✨ I have for Tamius

For now, enjoy the grumpy lil guy head pats

[dragonanon]

Death!Reader and God!Brother head cannons

Note: you can thank @sherlockhomies-42 for this, my brain hasn’t known peace since I read their stuff about the reader being Death in Hazbin Hotel. And if I don’t get my thoughts out right now I might honestly combust. 🙃

Lore HCs:

- Before Hell, Earth, and even Heaven existed, there was nothing….Until by some cosmic miracle, God popped into existence. God started by building himself a luxurious paradise; the same paradise that would eventually become Heaven.

- God relished in his wonderful new home for a while, but quickly grew bored with being alone. So he began creating animals and other small creatures to keep him company. At first, this worked out great! But to an ageless, immortal being like God, several years felt like mere moments to him; and before he knew it, his beloved creations had become incredibly old and were in ever increasing pain and discomfort as they continued to age, and there was nothing God could do about it. All he could do was create life, and once life had been created God was powerless to do anything to stop it or take it away.

- Just when it seemed God would be forced to watch his creations suffer forever, another incredible miracle happened; you popped into existence. Sporting six mighty black wings and a set of horns gracing your head, you gently touched each of the suffering creatures, and with your touch each one FINALLY had their suffering come to an end as they died, and their now freed souls traveled down to a newly created realm to rest and wait for whatever came next; Limbo.

- God watched in awe as you gave his beloved friends what he couldn’t; an ending. God realized quickly, based on an instinctual pull he felt towards you, that whatever force had created him had clearly struck again, and brought you into existence.

- God was now in the presence of a being just as powerful as him, but while you may have been his equal in terms of how you both came to be and the sheer power you both held, your powers were VERY different from his; almost like they were the opposite of his. That’s when it dawns on him, you’re his sibling! His counterpart! If his powers are to begin and yours are to end, then you’re meant to bring balance to everything! After all, there can never be a beginning if there’s no end, and there can never be an end if there is no beginning.

- It’s then that you’re given your name; “Death”, and as both the younger sister of God and the only one capable of bringing an end to any life he creates, your very existence leads to you both creating balance in the universe for the very first time.

- As the first order of business, God started creating ageless beings, like the Seraphim and other Angelic beings. And with your input, he gave them the gift of sentience so they could all think, feel emotions, and communicate with each other and you and your older brother, and the ability to create just like him.

- At some point though, God started getting more lazy and careless, given he didn’t have to do much now that he’d created ageless beings capable of thinking and creating things themselves. He suddenly had more free time than he knew what to do with, and it culminated in him pretty much just sitting back in his fancy palace, and allowing allowing his children do as they pleased while he casually observed from time to time from the sidelines. (Dude basically just became super depressed because now he essentially had nothing to do, and felt like he no longer served any purpose in existing. He hasn’t told you or anyone about these feelings tho, just drinks himself silly everyday and vibes in his palace.)

- This annoyed you GREATLY as you now had to essentially step up and provide guidance to the Seraphim and other Angelic beings when they needed it, because your brother couldn’t even be bothered to do that. You started to resent God for his “hands off” approach to running things, while God began to resent you for being “nagging and controlling”.

- The resentment eventually boiled over when Lucifer and Lilith inadvertently created Hell, and the other Seraphim and Angelic beings banished them both into the realm they’d created. Outraged by what God’s lack of involvement had caused, you got into a nasty fight with him as you pleaded with him to intervene and FINALLY put an end to the chaos he’d allowed to run rampant for centuries. God vehemently refused, insisting that the Seraphim and Angelic beings knew what they were doing and didn’t need his input. Furthermore, God believed that the punishment was justified given it was their actions that caused evil to invade the Earth.

- You were getting NO WHERE in this argument, so for the sake of your own sanity, you returned to Limbo to continue your work of bringing death to those who needed it. Along with the new task of taking dead souls back to Limbo, where they would stay until you determined whether to send them to Heaven or Hell based on how the soul had behaved while alive.

- That’s how it went for centuries before you decided you needed a little break, and informed Heaven and Hell that you would be taking a well deserved nap. This would mean that they would need to work together to sort souls in the meantime, as your reapers would ensure that death still continued appropriately on Earth while you sleep. Heaven and Hell agreed to this, and with that you curled up in bed and went to sleep.

- Speaking of reapers, reapers are permanent residents in Limbo. They are neither Angels nor Demons, but they’re ageless all the same. God actually made the first reapers for you, so they’re essentially the Limbo equivalent of Seraphim and other Heaven born angelic beings. These reapers, often called “First Ones”, have sentience and emotions since they were created by God himself. So you typically have First Ones lead the other reapers.

- All the reapers you’ve obtained since the First Ones are Limbo’s equivalent of Sinners, often called “Hollows”. Hollows are souls who in order to avoid eternal suffering in Hell, instead opted to willingly relinquish their humanity entirely and become an undead being working for you. In giving up their humanity however, the souls lose their ability to feel anything whatsoever. They’re little more than robots; doing what they’re told and not questioning it, all while feeling absolutely nothing. They’re called “Hollows” because that’s essentially what they are, hollowed out husks that now only exist to serve you.

- Regardless of whether they’re a First One or Hollow though, they all have the same job; find the humans whom you’ve given death to, reap their souls from their bodies, and guide them down to Limbo and care for them until you’ve sorted them into Heaven or Hell. The only real difference is the First Ones are usually in charge of the Hollows, ensuring that the Hollows reap the correct souls and are doing their jobs.

- If you had only known what your absence would cause, you would’ve NEVER went to sleep. For as SOON as you were out, Heaven took it upon themselves to decide where the souls went, completely defying your orders that Heaven and Hell work TOGETHER to decide that. To add insult to injury, Heaven also became incredibly elitist and picky about who got into Heaven, and this resulted in a vast majority of souls being sent to Hell for even the smallest infractions. The unbalanced approach of sorting souls eventually caused the over population problem and subsequent annual exterminations.

- With Heaven’s incredible arrogance and Hell’s complicity in this, both realms are in for a VERY rude awakening when you eventually wake up prematurely and see what they all have done. You’re gonna read Sera, Lilith, Lucifer, Adam, Lute, AND God the riot act for fucking your shit up

Okay lore time over, here’s the silly, more generalized, shit you’ve all been waiting for!

- When making the Seraphim, God made them in your image. He really just wanted to show his love and appreciation for you in some way, and he decided the best way to that was by basing the physical appearances of his first sentient creations on you. Hence why all the Seraphim are beautiful and have six wings like you do. It was literally like a kid excitedly making a piece of macaroni art of their sibling and being super excited to show it off to them

- All of the beings directly created by God are considered his “children”, so they all refer to him as “father”. Given that you’re God’s younger sister though, it also technically makes them your “nieces/nephews/niblings” and it makes you their “aunt”. You get called “Aunt Death” or “Auntie Death” by them a lot, but you’re cool with it because you think it’s cute.

- You weren’t supposed to have any favorites, but you always did have a soft spot for Lucifer in particular. He reminded you a lot of how God used to be back when you’d first come into existence; so energetic and excited to create things. You affectionately called him your “favorite nephew”.

- You haven’t seen God since the fight you had with him after Lucifer’s banishment into Hell. You actually miss your older brother dearly, but you’re still so pissed at him that you don’t feel like talking to him for the foreseeable future. You temporarily go back on this decision long enough to chew God out for allowing his children to make a complete mess of your realm, and destroying the balance you worked so hard to create and maintain. You’re back to giving him the silent treatment after that.

- Limbo is ONLY accessible by you, Cerberus, dead souls, and your reapers. No one else is capable of entering Limbo, hence why everyone assumed that the exterminations were successful in getting rid of excess Sinners. In reality however, all the “killed” Sinners were really just getting yeeted back into Limbo for re-sorting since something that’s already dead can’t die again.

- The persistent wailing and cries of the millions and millions of souls who were now trapped in Limbo was eventually what managed to wake you up early from your nap. You were not pleased in the slightest.

- Despite having a very gothic and menacing appearance, you’re incredibly gentle and kind. You feel great honor in being the one tasked with giving everyone the ending they need and deserve, and you take pride in caring for the souls that may have to stay in Limbo for an extended period of time whilst you decide where they will go next.

- You take no satisfaction in having a send ANYONE to Hell. It doesn’t feel good to know that you’re condemning someone to an eternity of suffering, no matter how deserving of that punishment they may be. Hence why it can sometimes take awhile for you to decide where a soul goes, because you want to be sure you’re really making the right decision.

- You’re saddened by how much like your brother Lucifer has become after his banishment, and you wholeheartedly believe that the ONLY reason he hasn’t completely turned into his father is that he has Charlie to think of.

- You and God are both fucking MASSIVE in your true forms. Like, “skyscrapers BARELY reach your hips”, massive. You’re both capable of shrinking down to be able to better interact with people, but even at your smallest you STILL tower over most Sinners.

- You’re low key salty that Lucifer went and had a baby while you were sleeping, because you missed out on getting to play the role of “doting great aunt” while Charlie was growing up. You’re trying really hard to make up for the lost time by visiting frequently. Much to the minor annoyance of a certain radio demon who doesn’t like the feeling of being in the presence of someone FAR more powerful than him. He deals with it and is polite tho because it’s FAR better to have someone as powerful as you be an acquaintance than an enemy.

- You can walk the streets of Hell with complete impunity because everyone either knows EXACTLY who you are and goes out of their way to stay in your good graces, or they end up finding out real fucking quick that you are NOT to be messed with.

- That being said, your presence is generally more accepted in Hell than it is in Heaven. In Hell, you’re far more likely to be willingly approached and have a nice conversation with a Demon. Whereas in Heaven, everyone is scared shitless of you except for Emily and actively tries to avoid even making eye contact with you. It’s like pulling teeth just trying to get someone to tell you what time it is. Of course you can ask anyone in Heaven anything and they’ll respond because they’re too afraid not to lol. But they’ll look like they’re on the verge of fainting then entire time you’re talking to them.

- The aversion to you in Heaven gets better over time as you’re seen having friendly interactions with Emily, but most Angels still get a bit uneasy in your presence. Sera is one of them because she knows that you’re BEYOND pissed at her and she’s one more fuck up away from getting dragged to Limbo and being made into one of your reapers to serve you AND the souls she hurt.

- Much like sending souls to Hell, you get no satisfaction in turning someone into a Hollow. Completely stripping someone of their emotions and sentience is not an enjoyable experience, even if it does result in you getting more help in Limbo. Despite this, you’re still required to make this offer to all souls set to be sent to Hell. You do your best to explain though what the consequences of this decision are though, and thankfully most souls see what becoming a Hollow entails and opt to keep their humanity. However every now and then you’ll get few who insist that becoming a Hollow will be a better fate, so you end up with new reapers.

- Vox is BIG MAD that his biggest rival is now rubbing elbows with the LITERAL Goddess of death. Dumbass had no clue who you even were at first so he didn’t care, but as soon as found out you were Death, the ensuing meltdown he had knocked the power out for the whole Pride ring. Alastor is aware of how pissed Vox is about this, so he purposely goes out of his way to play up his interactions with you when he knows Vox is watching. He can practically hear Vox’s apoplectic screeching when he does it, and it brings him immense joy every time.

- You’re often accompanied by Cerberus; a massive, three headed, doglike beast. God made him for you as a gift AGES ago to be a bodyguard and companion for you. Not that you ever NEED a bodyguard, but the thought was appreciated all the same. You ADORE Cerberus, he is the goodest good boy that ever did a good in your book. Cerberus loves you just as much and loves to give you kisses and cuddles.

- Lucifer was dog sitting Cerberus for you while you slept. Cerberus was a little shit during this time because he missed you, so he would often purposely ignore any commands Lucifer gave him. Charlie loved him though and he was actually great with her, so Lucifer put up with it.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Pirate (Dad Squad)

EVERYBODY COME GET YOUR LINEBECK SOUP!!

Abel shook the strange feeling off of himself as they stepped through the gate created by the item. If it had led them here, that likely meant its twin had opened a portal to this land as well.

Blinking a few times to reorient after the brief kaleidoscope of light, Abel took in the sight of a bright sun, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of crashing waves. They were obviously by the ocean, though he had no idea where in particular, or what sea. He only knew of the Lanayru Sea, but tales spoke of other bodies of water that rivaled it.

Rusl walked ahead first, adapting quickly, eyes alert but face placid. Abel watched the Fierce Deity walk after him, unreadable as usual.

Something clearly caught their attention as they stood at the edge of the dock, staring. Abel peeked around them, wondering what it was, when he caught sight of the scene.

A ship was sinking. But it was moving towards them. Its deck had just been submerged, and its mast was all that was remaining. A man stood atop it, glaring ahead fiercely as if willing the boat to make it to the dock in time, but his posture was proud as if this had been planned all along.

What in the world...?

The mast managed to reach the dock in the nick of time, allowing the man to step off. He blew out a sigh, looking like his knees were about to buckle, when he caught sight of the group of men. He sized them up quickly, eyes widening a little at the sight of the deity, and then waved sharply. "How's it going? I'm just passing through. Gotta go now. Important things to do."

"Wait," Rusl interrupted, stepping into his way. "Can you tell us where we are?"

The man blinked, hackles less raised, confusion evident. "Where you--this is Mercay Island. How do you not know that? What, you get clocked by those red spandex wearing freakshows too?"

Abel immediately stiffened. "The Yiga were here?!"

"The who?" the man bounced back, looking even more confused as the wind whipped through his dark brown hair.

"It's a group of demon worshippers," Rusl explained. "They've taken our sons. We're tracking them. Where did you see them?"

The man's face flushed, eyebrows coming together in outrage. "They took someone of mine as well! And he's my best crewmate! Well, he's my only crewmate, but that isn't the point! I came here in search of a new ship to track them down since they--they sunk--"

Here the man sniffled, glancing away in seeming anguish at the lost of his boat.

"I'm sorry about your ship," Rusl said appeasingly. "But perhaps we can help each other."

The man hummed, crossing his arms and squinting at them as if he were debating the matter.

Abel started to grow impatient. "Do you want to find your crewmate or not?"

"Don't get short with me!" the man snapped. "I am Linebeck, captain of the seas, and I know this place better than anyone, especially you guys. I'm your only chance to find those freaks, so you're going to take orders from me now!"

The Fierce Deity picked the greasy looking man by the back of his coat, bringing him to eye level. The man, in turn, squealed, flailing his arms and legs in a desperate maneuver to get out of the hold, yelling, "LET ME GO, YOU BEACHED WHALE!"

Abel glanced at the deity, tempted to tell him to toss the man into the sea, but if he truly had seen the Yiga, then they unfortunately needed his help. Rusl just sighed, seeming to grow a little tired of being the sole negotiator of the group.

"How do you propose we find the Yiga if your ship has been damaged?" Fierce asked, silencing the man's squeals. "If I retrieve it, will you be able to repair it expediently?"

"Retrieve--it's sinking into the sea, you small brained land mass!"

Abel did have to almost laugh at that one. Rusl looked unimpressed by the man's impolite demeanor, but at least his insults were entertaining. Nevertheless, they needed to move.

Fierce seemed to sense Abel's impatience and Rusl's disapproval, casually tossing the sailor aside as he walked up to the mast. The man spluttered, shakily trying to get to his feet before promptly falling back on to his backside as he watched the deity singlehandedly start to pull the ship out of the water with a firm grasp at its mast. Abel heard the wood start to give, though, not tolerating the force it took to fight the water crushing the rest of the ship, and he put a hand on Fierce's shoulder. "Let it go. We'll have to find another way."

Rusl turned to Linebeck. "We'll work with you, friend, but not for you. Understood?"

Linebeck gulped, still trying to process what he just saw, and then he huffed, rising. "F-fine. Whatever. But I'm still in charge."

Abel felt his eyebrows pinch together. "That's not--"

"Let's go!" Linebeck announced, twirling around and marching towards the island. "I know just the ship we can acquire."

The three trudged behind him somewhat reluctantly. Abel bristled at being given orders from someone like this, but he kept his mouth shut for now. Instead, it was the sea captain who spoke first.

"So... what are all your names?" he asked as he continued to stride ahead.

The Ordonian answered first. "I'm Rusl. This is Abel, and Fierce."

"Fierce?" Linebeck repeated, glancing back at him. "Weird name."

"It is my title," Fierce clarified.

"Title? Who calls you Fierce? Fierce what, Fierce Breaker of Personal Boundaries?"

This man talked entirely too much.

"What's the plan?" Abel asked before the conversation could continue.

"That ship," Linebeck said, pointing towards a relatively large ship sitting in the harbor. "We can use that to track those scum."

"If you already had another ship, why were you perturbed at the loss of your other one?" Fierce questioned.

"It's not his," Abel surmised quickly.

Rusl smiled, rolling his shoulders. "All right, then. Who owns it?"

Abel glanced over at the Ordonian, a little baffled. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around what kind of work this man did - he was the most polite and kind of the group, easy with people, yet he condoned stealing in a heartbeat.

Not that Abel wouldn't steal if he had to, but... he had to. Rusl was... he didn't know. This just certainly was not the first time the man had done it, that was for sure.

And clearly, this sailor was more akin to a pirate.

Sighing heavily, Abel listened as Linebeck prattled on about some women "who won't be a problem," and the three men started moving steadily towards the boat.

Surprisingly, it only seemed to have two women aboard - Linebeck claimed that the rest of the crew was at the market. That at least made things simpler.

The four moved quickly. Rusl crouched low, leading the way and pulling out a dagger he hid in his belt. Despite being quite the swordsman, Abel had observed that Rusl often resorted to a dagger in close combat, and the more he saw it, the more he questioned the blacksmith's occupation. Fierce, on the other hand, left his hands open, likely not wanting to use his powerful blade on a couple women guarding a ship. Linebeck was also unarmed, curiously.

Sighing, Abel unsheathed his sword. He caught up to Rusl, and the two rushed up the gangway, picking a target and quickly overpowering them. Rusl never unsheathed his dagger, only using its small hilt to smack the woman across the temple, knocing her unconscious and covering her mouth as she fell. Her companion caught sight of him before Abel could get to her, yelling, but Abel easily tossed her overboard while Rusl pushed the other down the ramp.

Fierce walked aboard next, glancing around, while Linebeck sauntered aboard. The pirate's face was tight, as if he hadn't quite expected the ferocity the men had displayed, but he tried to cover it with a quick little, "Well done. Now we can depart."

"Not yet," Fierce said quietly, his voice in that low tone he used when stalking prey. Abel immediately went alert, whirling to find what he was looking at, when--

"Intruders!!"

Turning sharply, Abel saw a woman pointing from a door leading below deck. Within an instant, at least ten other women appeared, all armed and snarling.

"You said they were in the market!" Abel yelled as he readied for a fight.

Linebeck didn't reply, seemingly vanishing into thin air, and Abel only caught sight of his blue tailcoats slipping under a barrel.

"Did--did he just--"

"Not now!" Rusl snapped as their enemies charged on them.

Abel focused quickly, dodging a strike from a nearby fighter before parrying her blade and kicking her away to create some distance. Thankfully, he still had at least one functional shield left, and he quickly used it to block a jab from another enemy. Before he could retaliate, the two women were swept away by a... screaming woman?

Abel glanced to his right to see Fierce holding one of the fighters by her wrist and using her as a weapon to ram into the others. At his questioning glance, the deity explained, "The little hero usually does not approve of killing mortals. If these women prove problematic, I'll eliminate them, but for now--"

"Behind you!" Abel interrupted, pointing as another fighter tried to leap off the rail of the deck and stab Fierce in the head. The deity swatted her like a fly, and she rammed into the opposite end of the ship.

"Jolene!" some of the others shouted. Abel immediately perked up at the reaction - clearly this woman was important, maybe even the leader.

"Toss her off!" Abel ordered the deity, moving to intercept a few other enemies. He glanced to his left to check on Rusl and found the Ordonian starting to accumulate a pile of enemies who were on the ground writhing or motionless.

The former knight felt a swell of pride for his friend before looking back to see Fierce easily throwing the leader off the ship. As predicted, the others followed to check on her, leaving the men in peace temporarily. Abel put his sword and shield away to pull out his bow and arrows while Rusl pulled the gangway up to prevent them from returning. Moving to the edge of the ship, Abel nocked the arrow, aiming for a second before letting it fly. It sank into the woman's shoulder, making her scream in pain.

He nocked another arrow.

"Abel," Rusl interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The fight is over."

Abel continued to stare at his target. Killing her would put the rest of her crew into chaos. It would prevent them from following them.

Rusl's hand tightened a little, reassuring but firm. "Abel."

Sighing, Abel slowly lowered the bow and arrow. His focus was interrupted as he heard splashing, glancing over to see Fierce throwing the bodies overboard.

There was a scrape of wood on wood, catching the men's attention, and they all drew their weapons to see--

Linebeck, peeking out from under the barrel. "Oh, are they all gone?"

I'm going to kill him. Abel marched forward, eyes alight with rage, when he was held back by Fierce, who pinched the back of his tunic to prevent him from moving ahead. He turned to snap at the deity, but his words were quickly overrun by the pirate, who dusted himself off and continued, "Well done, then! We're ready to set sail! I'll man the helm."

As he moved forward on the deck, he scurried all of a sudden, filled with seemingly feral energy, and stood on his tiptoes at the railing, shouting, "THAT'S FOR ALMOST BLOWING UP MY SHIP TWO WEEKS AGO, JOLENE!"

Before anyone could comment, he rushed to set sail as if his life depended on it, guiding the ship out to sea.

Abel blew out a frustrated breath, and he felt Fierce release him. He kicked the barrel under which the pirate had been hiding, taking little satisfaction from it but having to get his anger out somehow.

Rusl took a moment to calm himself as well, though far less noticeably, before he walked over to the wheel. "So where are we going?"

"Bannan Island," Linebeck answered, eyes on the horizon. "That was the direction they went, towards the north sea. They also claimed to be going to a Banana Island, so I think they heard the place's name wrong."

Banana Island. Goddess. Sometimes Abel was almost embarrassed that these were his enemies. Though it simply proved that sheer numbers could cause enough of a threat, despite how idiotic they were.

There was silence for a while as Marcay Island grew steadily smaller. The adrenaline of the fight wore off, and Abel slowly slid to the ground, feeling his stomach grow steadily more upset at the tossing of the waves.

"Who are these people, anyway?" Linebeck eventually asked, glancing at Rusl. "What do they want?"

"They essentially want to see the world burn," Rusl answered, crossing his arms. "Somehow that involves taking our sons hostage."

Linebeck pursed his lips, debating some issue, and sighed. "Well, that's rotten luck. Good thing you have me."

"Oh yes," Abel huffed. "Where would we be without you?"

Linebeck didn't seem to catch his quip, or if he did, his rebuttal was interrupted by Fierce asking, "Why did they take your crewmate?"

Linebeck's face soured, and he glared ahead of him at nothing in particular. "Whatever the reason, Link can probably get himself of out of it. But... I need a crew. So I'm finding the kid."

Link?!

No. Surely not. There was no way this disgrace of a man had a Hero in his crew, and--

Oh goddess he did, didn't he? That would be why the Yiga targeted him.

"Our boys are named Link too," Rusl said, eyes widening a little as he came to the same conclusion. "Heroes of Hyrule, spread across time. I think they must be targeting them because they know they'd stop them otherwise."

"Heroes? Hyrule?" Linebeck repeated, staring at him. "My kid isn't a--I mean, he's--look, he's my crew, and... he's a good kid, but..."

The pirate bit his lip, staring at the wheel a moment, still and silent. Worry etched every feature before he shook his head.

"The Yiga will perish," Fierce assured him. "We'll find your child."

Linebeck flushed. "H-he's not my child!!"

"Right," Rusl chuckled, patting the man on the back.

Abel sighed, ignoring the pirate temporarily and looking at at sea. The horizon bounced up and down along with the ship, giving him a headache, and he closed his eyes. He wondered if they'd actually have any luck this time - all they'd found were scraps of information and cold leads. This attack seemed fairly fresh, so hopefully they could make it in time.

Ugh. Closing his eyes made the seasickness worse.

Thunder rumbled, catching Abel's attention, and he hastily opened his eyes to see dark clouds ahead. "Uh..."

"Are we going to sail through the storm?" Fierce questioned, staring at the abysmal weather.

"No sailor goes through a storm on purpose," Linebeck immediately said. "That's just suicide. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent sailor. We'll skirt around it - I don't want to lose too much time."

At least Abel could agree with the man on that. But still... even he, someone who did not navigate the ocean, knew not to get near a storm out in the open sea. "Are we sure about this? We should probably try to avoid it altogether."

"And give those sea vipers time to get away?" Linebeck growled, glaring at the clouds. "Ha! I, Linebeck, master of the seas, can handle this just fine! I'm getting my crew back, blast it!"

Well... he couldn't fault him for his determination, at least. But still... Abel sighed, hugging the wooden support rung under the railing, lightly bouncing his forehead against it. "We're going to die."

Abel's relatively mild quip felt more and more like a promise the closer they got. The winds picked up, the sea turning a sickly green, and Abel nearly threw up with how much they were being tossed around. Rusl nearly flew across the ship as one wave almost overturned them, and Fierce had to grab him by his shirt to save him. The three men clung to the rail desperately, occasionally getting beaten by walls of water spilling overtop them.

Abel looked to the helm worriedly, feeling completely out of control and petrified, only to see Linebeck standing firmly, holding the wheel with a steel grip. He glared defiantly at the sea, almost daring it to try its worst, confident and firm in his stance.

At the sight, the former knight had to admit he felt almost a little reassured.

Another wave crashed into them, and Abel watched Linebeck release the wheel a moment, letting it turn sharply, guiding the ship to ride with the wave. Then he grasped it, guiding the mast with gritted teeth as he fought against the whipping winds. Fierce pulled Abel close, shielding both him and Rusl with an iron grip to the railing so the waves wouldn't knock them off.

Honestly, with the way they were getting tossed, Abel would be surprised if they didn't capsize. He clung desperately to both the rail and the Fierce Deity, feeling the mythical being's strong arm pressing him and Rusl closer together. Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, some kind of finality or certainty in each other's eyes as they nearly flew over another wave, facing it head on.

They still had to find their boys. Abel had to get back to Tilieth. He'd survived a damn apocalypse, he wasn't letting this be what killed him.

Glancing up at the pirate again, Abel saw the same fierce determination on his face. It was a promise, and despite how Abel's entire world was trying to kill him, he took comfort in it.

Abel closed his eyes, his forehead touching Fierce's sleeve, his hand brushing against Rusl's as they both held on to the deity for dear life, shivering and trusting and letting go.

Hylia... I leave this up to you. Don't let me down.

He lost track of time. All he heard was the crashing of waves, like claps of thunder, roaring in his ears, making his heart pound. But slowly, surely, the boat jostled them less, the wind didn't howl as it had, and the ship rocked and bounced up and down like a hammock instead of feeling like an earthquake.

Abel opened his eyes, dripping wet, tasting salt and bile, and saw sunlight.

Linebeck smiled down at them, hands on his hips, looking triumphant. "Told you I was the best."

Rusl barked out a laugh, slowly rising while Abel continued to shiver in Fierce's hold. "Well, I'm certainly impressed."

"Are you alright?" Fierce whispered softly, his arm shifting to rest his hand on Abel's back.

Hesitantly, Abel rose, testing his legs, though his knees certainly felt like they could give out at any moment.

It was official. He despised sailing.

But he could recognize and admire skill when he saw it. "Well done, Linebeck."

The pirate beamed, postiively preening at the praise, and Abel found he couldn't hold himself together any longer, leaning over the rail and vomiting.

Linebeck cackled quietly, heading back to his original spot. "Well, it isn't for everyone, I guess. But I promise the rest of the way is less rough."

Rusl helped Abel sink back to the floor while Fierce grabbed some water at the Ordonian's request.

"You good?" Rusl asked. He was shivering too, just as soaked to the bone as Abel, but he seemed far better put together.

"Nothing fazes you, does it?" Abel asked hoarsely, somewhat annoyed and jealous.

Rusl smirked. "We all have our strengths. You're certainly a better fighter than me."

If you say so. Abel pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a little less nauseous, and accepted the water Fierce offered him.

The sun slowly dried everyone off as they continued to make their way to their destination. Eventually, Rusl, being the talkative man that he was, starting gently interrogating their captain while Abel leaned against Fierce with his eyes closed. The deity didn't mind, letting himself be a pillow, but Abel could hear fabric shift as he turned to listen in to the other two.

"How did Link become part of your crew?"

"Well, I was hunting treasure," Linebeck explained. "Link wanted to find the ship I was looking for. His friend, uh, needed some help. So we worked together. I figured the kid worked so well it only made sense that he stick around. He..."

Here the pirate paused, and Abel looked over at him. His eyes were cast downward, and though shadows pulled at the dark circles under his eyes, he had a gentle smile on his face.

"He's a good kid."

Fierce sighed quietly, barely audible over the breeze. "I must figure out why these Yiga are after our children."

Linebeck grew flustered. "I said he wasn't my kid!! Look, he's just a useful member of the crew, okay? Honestly, I'm not that soft!"

Fierce blinked, the slightest crinkle to his nose, a dead giveaway that he was bemused. "You speak of love and affection as if they are weaknesses."

"Wha--I--this is silly, I am a pirate, and--"

"And?" Rusl prompted, eyebrows raised, a mischievous, gentle smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. Fierce may not have understood the man's blustering, but Rusl clearly was just trying to mess with him now, seeing right through his bravado.

Personally, Abel was just a little exasperated by it. Men who pretended they were "tough" and nothing affected them all the time simply to show off annoyed him. He used to maintain a calm façade not because he was trying to prove a point, but because the last thing people needed was to see someone in charge panicking. This was different. This wasn't a way to keep others feeling safe and secure, this wasn't a means of protecting others, this was a pitiful attempt for Linebeck to protect himself.

Perhaps it wouldn't annoy him so much if he didn't suspect the man behaved this way in front of his kid too. He could act a fool to others, but if he denied his affection for his boy right in front of him, Abel did not approve of that.

But he didn't have to say anything. Fierce's innocent confusion would tear down his argument well enough.

Linebeck huffed, looking like he was scrambling for an argument, but Abel had to interrupt it when he caught sight of something. "Is that land?"

Everyone turned to look, seeing a small splotch of yellow and black andd green, and Linebeck laughed triumphantly. "There it is! Land ho! I told you I would get us there in record time! Now hold on, you sorry land slugs, we're coming in fast!"

He was true to his word as it seemed to take little time to reach their destination. For once, it was blessedly easy to find their target - a large ship with the Yiga symbol on its mast, painted sloppily as if it had just been done, was at the port. Linebeck worked to slow their approach, when Abel instead insisted, "Don't slow us down, just ram it - we'll take care of the rest!"

"There's a cannon on this ship," Rusl noted.

"We can't risk hurting the boys if they're aboard," Abel argued, shaking his head. "Just damage it enough to stop them from escaping, and we can board."

Linebeck nodded. "Just so you know... it's uh, all up to you once we get there. I'm a fantastic fighter, but I'm afraid my sword is on my own ship."

Rusl and Abel both stared at him dully. "Right."

The men prepared themselves, weapons at the ready. Fierce pulled out his double helix blade, making Linebeck's eyes double in size. "Geez, overkill much? Get ready, we'll hit them on the port side."

"The--the what side?"

"Port, on the port--ugh, on your left!!"

The three moved, and Linebeck snapped, "Your other left!! Left from facing the bow!"

Abel sighed heavily, positioning himself and bracing for impact alongside the other two. As the Yiga ship grew closer at an admittedly unnerving rate, he prepared to jump.

Their boat slammed the Yiga ship, impaling its hull slightly and causing it to rock so severely that they could hear some of the enemies screaming and falling into the sea.

Linebeck roared in satisfaction. "HAHA, TAKE THAT YOU BRAINLESS JELLYFISH!"

Abel let the momentum of the movement carry him, Rusl, and Fierce across as they leapt with the contact. The Yiga boat was still nearly on its side when they landed, causing them to slip a little, but Abel recovered quickly, decapitating the first Yiga in sight before moving on to the next. The team moved quickly, with Fierce taking out swathes of the enemy in one fell swoop while Rusl tore ahead. Abel scoured the area for signs of a leader, entering the underbelly of the ship as well.

When he reached the brig, he froze, breath stolen from his lungs. There was another gate there, its bright kaleidoscope dizzyingly swirling, and two Yiga stood before it, holding an unconscious boy.

Oh hell no! Charging ahead, Abel stabbed one Yiga quickly, kicking the other off the child before finishing him off. Rusl hastened in shortly thereafter, wiping blood of his sword.

"Anyone else?" Abel asked as he knelt down to check on the child.

Rusl shook his head, cheeks flushed, eyes aflame. He held up a booklet. "Found a journal log, though. Might be able to help us."

At this point, Abel honestly wasn't surprised, just exasperated. He supposed the Yiga's main purpose in being here was to take this boy. Theirs were still at large.

At least they'd spared this boy the same fate.

Fierce entered last. "The enemy has been eliminated."

Abel sighed, looking down. The boy in front of him was young, not even a teenager from the looks of it, though he was likely close. His hair was thick and wispy, golden as the sands and thick with mositure and sea salt. He wore a green tunic and undershirt, paired with white trousers.

"Link!"

Catching the men's attention, Linebeck rushed into the room, kneeling down beside the boy. His hands hovered over him hesitantly, face paling at the abrasions on the boy's face. At first his concern was genuine, but his eyes shifted to the dead Yiga around him and suddenly he looked woozy.

Abel fought the urge to roll his eyes. He motioned with his head to Fierce, who quietly removed the bodies. With the distraction gone, the pirate returned his attention to the child, considerably less pale but still oh so hesitant and gentle with Link.

The boy stirred, squeezing his eyes before slowly blinking them open. Abel could see the immediate sparkle of relief as the boy registered seeing Linebeck, and the former knight smiled a little.

Linebeck smiled in return, hands finally settling on the child, patting hsi cheek and helping him sit up. His grip settled on the boy's shoulders, and he took a steadying breath.

And then he started shaking him like a rag doll.

"You stupid sea monkey, what were you thinking do you have any idea how much trouble I had to go through just to get to you, they sank my ship, now we have to get a new one--!"

The other men stared, a little caught off guard, and then Rusl gently pointed out, "Easy, you're going to give the kid whiplash."

Linebeck paused, glancing at them, leaving Link nearly limp in his grip, eyes dazed and clearly dizzy. The pirate huffed, pulling the boy to his feet, and Link stumbled around a few paces before nearly collapsing against him.

Sighing, Linebeck settled an arm around the child to keep him from falling over, letting him lean against him. "Well. The job's done, at least. But... didn't you say your boys were missing too?"

Rusl smirked. "Ah, so he is your boy?"

Linebeck jumped, eyes widening. "W-wha--no, I--you're dodging the question!"

Rusl waved the booklet in response. "I'm sure this log will have valuable information for us. But you and your son should get out of here. We'll make sure the Yiga can't come back."

Linebeck was practically inflating with hot air to rebuke Rusl's claims about him and Link, but he instead stormed out. "Honestly, I rescue you ungrateful sea barnacles and you mock me. I'm leaving."

"You forgot your kid," Abel noted dully as the boy shook his head and steadied himself.

"Link, let's go, what are you waiting for!" Linebeck called from above deck.

Abel put a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder while Rusl smiled warmly at him. "Better get going, son."

The boy looked between them, adn then the Fierce Deity, and then he nodded, saying softly, "Thank you. Thank you for taking care Linebeck."

With that, the kid ran outside, and Rusl laughed. Abel had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Let's get through this gate and seal it," Abel suggested. "We can read the journal after we get out of here. The less likely they can come back, the better."

Fierce's reply was cut off by voices from above.

"Linebeck, look! It's Jolene's ship!"

"Of course it is, I stole it!"

"But then why is your ship over there?"

"What?! My ship was--that's my ship!"

"Oh! I think I see Jolene on it!"

"She fixed my ship? SHE STOLE MY SHIP??"

Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, and then they both snickered.

Fierce glanced hesitantly above deck, but Abel shook his head. "Leave him to his fate. Clearly this is not their first encounter, and they've managed without us. We should go."

With that, the three men strode forward, preparing for another adventure.

[smilesrobotlover]

First| <-previous next-> (coming soon)

AO3

Chapter 7- The Meeting

The letter from Link has been haunting Zelda since she’s read it. She had planned to meet with the resistance in two days, and even moved her schedule around for it, but Link was demanding to meet with them now. It seemed that they would be here tonight, but Zelda was struggling to make time to meet them.

During the many meetings, it was all she could think about. How she was going to get to Telma’s bar, how she was going to disguise herself as Sheik, what she was going to say to Edmund and Amber. She was probably going to miss supper for this, but it was fine, this was more important than supper. She just wished that it hadn’t happened so last minute.

Goddesses, why couldn’t they wait two more days?

She didn’t pay attention to any of the meetings, anxious to get them done and to leave to get to the next one. She’d nearly fallen asleep countless times, and Edmund would discreetly wake her back up so she wouldn’t humiliate herself—which she was grateful for. She really wasn’t fit for any of this queen business at the moment, but there was so much to do, such little time.

As soon as the current meeting ended, Zelda found herself sitting in her chair, staring blankly at the wall instead of rushing to get to lunch. This was her only break, and she didn’t have the energy to move. Edmund didn’t move either, and he spoke to the nobles and representatives for Zelda as she stared. Soon the room was empty, and the two were left alone.

“Zelda,” Edmund started softly.

“It’s fine, Edmund. I just need a moment.”

Edmund stared at her. “You weren’t at breakfast.”

“No I was not.”

“You’ve missed breakfast these past few days.”

“I have.”

“And you’re about to miss lunch.”

“That’s fine.”

“And you look like death.”

Zelda gave Edmund an annoyed look and he leaned forward. “Zelda, you’re killing yourself. Why don’t you tell me everything that’s happening? Why don’t you let me help?”

Zelda continued to stare silently, not in the mood to argue.

“Look, I’m worried about you. I do… care about you. We were good friends as kids, and those memories I can’t forget. I want you to be taken care of, is that so wrong?”

Zelda stayed silent.

“You’re exhausted and you’re hungry,” Edmund continued when she said nothing, “I don’t want to think about how dehydrated you are. Just, come to lunch, take a break, and take care of yourself.”

“I can’t take a break whenever I want, I have too much to do—“

“Oh my Labryn, Zelda, the nobles can wait! They can wait for you! You need to take care of yourself first!”

Zelda sighed and stood up. “I’m not in the mood for this right now, Edmund.”

“When will you be in the mood? When you’re on your deathbed? I’m not wanting to wait until then!”

The queen didn’t respond and went to walk away. It was childish to not say anything, but she was too tired to argue. Too tired to think of something to say. She was just… so tired…

She reached the door and leaned against the wall, holding her aching head. She suddenly felt lightheaded and sick to her stomach. She heard footsteps approach her from behind and she gave Edmund a glare.

“Zelda?”

She huffed and reached for the door, but black dots appeared in her vision, and she felt herself begin to stagger.

“Zelda!”

Her stomach did somersaults as she began to fall, and soon she was surrounded by darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was beginning to set as Rusl and Link arrived at castle town. They moved quickly through the field, and Link could tell Epona was enjoying the free movement. She had become just as stir-crazy as he did after his adventure, so when she had a chance to move around outside of Ordon, she clearly enjoyed herself. When they arrived, they quickly got off their horses and headed into the town, trying not to take up too much space with their large animals. Normally, Link would let Epona roam free in the field while he did his errands in town, but after what he’s found out, he decided against it. It took a while to get to the bar; surprisingly the town was busy despite the day coming to an end, and people were always blocking their way, causing the horses to grow upset with the small space. Rusl and Link finally were able to tie their horses to a post near Telma’s bar where less people were at, and they hopped down the stairs and entered it. The bar was relatively empty, save for a few patrons who were quietly drinking by themselves. As usual, the place was dark and was only lit up by torches and candles scattered throughout. In the back, Telma and Auru were chatting at the table they all normally sat at, and Telma’s face lit up when she saw the two men, quickly burying them both in a hug when they got close.

“Link! Rusl! It’s so good to see you two!” She exclaimed, giving their shoulders a firm pat when she pulled away. Link smiled politely and let her lead the two men to the back table, where Auru was smiling.

“I figured you’d both be here tonight,” Auru said, ruffling Rusl’s hair as he sat down. “So what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain everything after Ashei and Shad get here,” Rusl said simply, fixing his ruffled hair.

“Hm, we sure they’ll be here tonight? This was pretty last minute.” Auru asked, leaning forward to look at both Rusl and Link.

“I know, I know it’s inconvenient but… it’s important,” Rusl frowned as Telma set down a mug of ginger ale in front of him, which he began to pick at mindlessly. “Me and Link found what’s been causing these disappearances, there’s no need to waste time anymore.”

Auru raised his eyebrows and he nodded knowingly. “Well then, that is quite important.”

Link nodded, staring at the milk in front of him—neither him nor his father bothered to drink anything. It was silent for a moment until Rusl awkwardly cleared his throat, catching Link and Auru’s attention.

“Well, we’re lucky you’re here, we won’t have to wait for you. You’re a lot harder to get a hold of than the others,” Rusl stated with a smile, and Auru gave a hearty laugh.

“Oh, my boy, I haven’t left castle town in weeks.”

“Did Sheik send you a letter?”

“He did. He told me to ask around castle town to gather information. It’s the only thing I’m capable of doing now,” Auru leaned back in his chair and stretched slowly, a pained expression on his face. “I’m getting too old for all this action.”

Rusl frowned and went back to staring at his drink. Link studied his father’s face, but it remained blank. When he really wanted to be, he was a master at hiding his emotions. There was a moment of silence again, being interrupted by Telma coming by to bring food for the two men, and Link couldn’t help but cheer softly.

“Oh goddesses, thank you Telma,” he said, already digging in, “I’m starvin’.”

Telma laughed and patted his shoulder. “I figured you’d both be hungry from the journey!”

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that, Telma,” Rusl chuckled slightly, and Telma lightly punched his shoulder.

“Oh, you hush, it’s the least I can do for my friends! Now eat up while we wait for the lovebirds to arrive!”

Link stared at Telma as she walked away, and he turned to look at Auru. “Are Ashei and Shad—“

“Engaged.”

Link’s mouth dropped. “Engaged? When did this happen?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

Rusl and Link both glanced at each other in shock. Link knew that there was something going on between them, but after ten years, he figured that it was nothing.

“How did you know about this?” Link asked.

“They announced it when they stopped by,” Auru explained, gesturing with his hands. “I hang around here most of the time so me and Telma got to hear about it.”

“It’s about time,” Rusl scoffed, a teasing smile on his lips. “Those two were drivin’ me crazy!”

“No kidding! It’s a little late though. I doubt Ashei would be able to have kids at her age.”

Rusl’s face scrunched up. “What are you talkin’ about? She’s barely thirty! And you’re a fool if you think that Ashei and Shad would even want kids.”

“Oh come now, they’re good with kids!”

Rusl gave Link a look and he snorted. They both knew that they were terrible with kids. They could keep them alive, but they couldn’t keep them from crying. Auru rolled his eyes and waved his hand away.

“I just think it’s a waste to get married and then not have kids.”

“That’s an old way of thinking, Auru,” Rusl said, finally taking a sip of his ginger ale. “Some people don’t need to have kids. It ain’t our business what they want to do anyways.”

Auru scoffed slightly, but he didn’t continue. Link continued to eat in silence, not realizing how sloppy he was being. He was ravenous. He felt Auru watching him and he looked up.

“What?”

“You’re eating like a growing teenage boy. When was the last time you ate?” Auru teased slightly, and Link scratched the back of his head.

“It’s… actually been less than two days,” he muttered, giving Rusl a look. Neither of them ate dinner before searching the woods. They spent the next day sleeping and then the whole day traveling. Auru’s eyes widened when Rusl and Link remained silent, both having guilty looks on their faces.

“Neither of you have eaten in two days?” He asked, shocked.

“Maybe a bit longer than that–” Link muttered, and Rusl jabbed at him lightly.

“It’s fine—“ Rusl quickly said, but Auru shook his head.

“Eat that food Telma gave you, boy!” He commanded in a stern tone. Rusl quickly turned to the food and started eating it, looking like a guilty kid. Link snorted slightly and his pa glared him down. Auru patted his back with a satisfied look and leaned back.

“Must’ve been a crazy few days. What did Sheik have you do?”

“He wanted us to investigate a missing woman and Goron from Kakariko,” Link answered since Rusl’s mouth was full of bread.

“Ah, so that’s how you found it.”

Link glanced at Rusl who went back to staring blankly at the food. Auru picked up on the mood change and frowned.

“What is it?”

“We’ll explain when Shad and Ashei get here,” Rusl said quietly. Auru looked between the two and frowned.

“Alright,” he said, a worried look on his face as he stared at Rusl. It grew silent at the table again and the old man glanced up, his face lighting up. “Speaking of…”

Link turned around and saw Ashei and Shad walking to the group. Ashei looked annoyed while Shad smiled at the group. Rusl turned as well and shot up from his seat, marching towards the two.

“Hey! You two jerks!” He shouted, pulling them both into a hug. “You can’t just get engaged and not tell me!”

“Well next time, be here when we visit!” Shad teased, hugging him back. Ashei smiled slightly and gave Link a nod as he walked up to the two.

“When’s the wedding?” Rusl asked, his hands on the two’s arms.

“Don’t know yet, we’re just playing it by ear,” Shad answered, looking at Ashei who nodded.

“We’re in no rush,” she added.

“Well, you better have me as your best man, alright?” Rusl said with a smirk.

“My dear Rusl, I wouldn’t have it any other way!” Shad laughed. He glanced at Link and walked towards him. “And how are you doing, old boy?”

Link chuckled and gave him a side hug. “I’m doin’ fine. I’m happy for y’all!��

“Oh thank you,” Shad glanced at Ashei who was chatting with Rusl, a happy expression on his face. “I wouldn’t have imagined being with her, but here we are.”

“Love is a fickle thing, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is.”

Rusl and Ashei walked up to the two. “Let’s sit down and talk, yeah?” Ashei started, “I want to know why you both were so intent on meeting today.”

“We can’t, not without Sheik,” Rusl sighed, sitting down. “He’s not here yet.”

“This has been eating me up inside, and you’re saying I have to wait longer?” Shad said lightheartedly.

Ashei pulled Shad down in the seat next to hers and gave him a look. “Sheik may be busy, this was pretty last minute, yeah?”

“So I’ve been told,” Rusl grumbled. Auru patted him on the shoulder with a chuckle, and the group started to lightly poke fun at Rusl. Telma came by with food and drinks for the couple that arrived, and she closed the curtains to give them privacy.

“Tell me when you start talking about what happened,” she said, “I still have work to do, but I’ll be sure to kick everyone out.”

“Sure thing Telma,” Link said with a nod, and the curtains were fully closed, leaving the group isolated from the drunkards that came to the bar.

“So… what did Sheik have you two do?” Link asked the couple, and they glanced at each other.

“Sheik told us to help investigate the disappearances with a captain named Hoz,” Ashei answered. “We really weren’t finding anything of importance though.”

“Ah, did you come here with him?”

“No, he was quite intent on continuing the investigations,” Shad jumped in, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That was the most focused soldier of Hyrule I’ve ever met.”

“It’s good, Hyrule needs more men like him,” Ashei said, staring at her drink.

“Though he was sort of a pain to work with,” Shad mumbled.

Ashei snorted. “He was. Everything needed to go his way otherwise he would implode.”

“... Does Hyrule still need more men like him?” Auru asked cheekily, and Ashei glared at him.

“Yes.”

Shad laughed slightly and sat up straight. “Yes yes, he was still good to work with. I’m glad that some soldiers are still trying to do their jobs.”

Ashei gave a knowing nod and took a sip of her drink as the others mumbled in agreement. The group started to chat about mundane things, how they were doing, how the families were doing, and what they had planned afterwards. Link was constantly looking over his shoulder, expecting Sheik to suddenly appear (which he did every time they met up), yet there was no sign of him. Rusl was getting more anxious as the evening went on, constantly fidgeting with his hands or pacing the small room, pretending to be observing the wall. Soon it became too late–the bar was fully empty as Telma closed it down and kicked out angry drunks, and the only area lit up was the back room where the resistance sat. Yet no sign of Sheik, and Auru finally let out a loud sigh.

“I don’t think Sheik is coming.”

“We just need to be patient,” Ashei said, “she’s a busy person.”

Auru frowned. “‘She?’ You think Sheik’s a woman?”

Ashei’s eyes widened for a moment, but she quickly recovered. “W-well, Sheik is just a mysterious person, that’s all. I uh… say she could be a woman… or… something.”

The group stared at Ashei who stared hard at her drink.

“And what makes you think they’re a woman?” Auru pressed, a teasing smile on his lips.

“What makes you think they’re a man?” Ashei snapped back, getting angry. Auru raised his hands defensively.

“I’m just teasing you. You just never get flustered like that!”

Ashei glared at him and started cursing under her breath in frustration. Shad cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around her.

“Well, it doesn’t matter if Sheik is a man or a woman, what matters is that they’re not here right now.” He glanced up at Rusl who was still pacing back and forth near a corner. “We should start without them.”

Ashei sighed and nodded, a defeated look on her face. Auru nodded as well and stood up to drag Rusl back to the table. Link stared worriedly at his pa as he sat down, his face drained of all blood as he stared blankly at the table.

“Goddesses, are you alright?” Shad asked, and Rusl waved his concern away.

“‘M fine,” he mumbled. The group didn’t seem convinced by that answer, but they didn’t say anything else.

“Well, Link, Rusl,” Auru started, “tell us what happened. What is taking these missing people?”

Link glanced at Rusl who was still staring at the table, and he stood up, deciding to lead the conversation.

“Do you guys remember the shadow beasts?”

The group all froze, staring at Link with wide eyes.

“Shadow beasts? You mean those horrible black creatures that plagued all of Hyrule during the Twilight invasion?” Shad asked, and Link nodded.

“Yes, I… me and my pa found one in the woods… two nights ago,” Link frowned for a moment, that night feeling ages ago. He continued, “I think it’s a shadow beast that’s gotten stronger for the past ten years. It’s what’s been taking these people.”

“Oh… Labryn…” Ashei muttered under her breath.

“How do you know it’s the cause of all these disappearances?” Auru asked.

“We–uh—” Link glanced at Rusl who was still unmoving. “We sorta… found out the hard way…”

“Oh no… did someone–?” Shad started, but Link quickly stopped him.

“No, no it’s ok. I was able to stop the abduction but… I think it’s pretty obvious that this… mutated shadow beast is what’s causing all the disappearances.”

“Ok,” Ashei breathed out, “so it’s one of those shadow beasts, a little mutated, but we know what it is now. We should go out looking for it, yeah?”

Link pursed his lips. “Yes, but… be warned. I fought so many of those things by myself back then–”

“Yes you did! You were marvelous with the way you slashed them with your sword!” Shad exclaimed, swinging his arm around as if he had a weapon. Link smiled but it quickly went away.

“Yeah, well… I fought this one, and it didn’t die no matter what I did, so… I think we should be careful. We can’t underestimate this thing.”

The group nodded.

“Alright, well, thank you for telling us Link,” Auru said. “No one in Castle Town described anything like that.”

“No kidding,” Ashei replied and Link nodded glumly. This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let such a thing live, he couldn’t help but feel guilty over it.

“Well, it’s late, we can discuss plans tomorrow, but in the meantime, I think we should all get some rest,” Auru stared sternly at Rusl and Link, “you two especially. I can tell you need it.”

Link smiled slightly and Rusl got up quietly, leaving the room in an instant. The group stared in shock as he disappeared behind the curtain. Auru looked at Link and pointed at where Rusl left.

“Is he alright?”

“I… I don’t know…” Link looked down, debating on whether he should tell them the details of what happened, but he really didn’t want to, and he didn’t know if Rusl would want him to. “He’s probably just tired… the uh… the shadow beast was… aggressive to say the least. I’m gonna go talk to him real quick.”

He felt everyone’s eyes on him as he left, and he glanced at Telma who looked worried, but she forced a smile when she saw Link.

“Did you all start the conversation without me?”

“Oh— goddesses Telma I’m so sorry—“

Telma waved his apology away. “I’ll make the others tell me. Rusl went upstairs, sweet pea.”

Link nodded and slowly walked up the stairs, his entire body suddenly feeling heavy. He glanced around at the secret upstairs inn, trying to remember which one was normally reserved for him and Rusl. He poked his head in the first room, finding Rusl laying on one of the beds, his hands resting on his face. Rusl flinched when he sensed another person near him, but he quickly relaxed when it was Link.

“Spirits, Link,” he chuckled, lying back down. Link smiled and sat down on the other bed across from him.

“Pa… are you…?” He started, but he stopped when Rusl glanced at him. Rusl’s face didn’t hold any annoyance, but instead guilt. He sat up and sighed.

“I’m ok, Link. I’m… sorry for how I was acting down there… I just…” Rusl paused for a moment before sighing again, resting against the wall. Link tilted his head

“What?”

“Oh… it’s not your burden to bear.”

“Well… I kinda already know why you’re upset so… hiding it from me is a fruitless effort.”

Rusl grinned slightly. “I suppose so… I just…. Ever since that night I’ve been feeling so… terrified every waking moment—no—even when I’m trying to sleep I’m terrified, I just—“ he stopped himself and rubbed his face. “I don’t know.”

Link frowned. “I know the shadow beasts would turn people into other shadow beasts, maybe you’re still feeling the effects from that?”

Rusl shrugged, a disturbed look on his face.

“You… also were almost eaten,” Link chuckled darkly, “that would traumatize anyone.”

Rusl smirked slightly, but it quickly went away, so Link continued.

“I mean… I know I’ve nearly been eaten myself. So many times. By giant plants, and a giant eel, and wolfos trying to tear me to pieces, and spiders, and I guess smaller plants too, plus another giant spider, and possibly a lot of other things and—“

Rusl’s face had grown more concerned the longer Link rambled, and he quickly tried to recover.

“I-I mean, I turned out fine! Maybe? I mean maybe I haven’t turned out fine but—but it’s fine! I’ve kinda gotten used to it, everything trying to eat me. Heh, it makes me wonder if I taste good. I mean Midna will definitely say that I taste good but, you know—“

“Link, I don’t need to know this,” Rusl interrupted him, though he almost seemed amused. Link blushed slightly and scratched the back of his head.

“S-sorry, that kinda came out.”

Rusl chuckled slightly, which made Link feel a little better. He observed his father’s tired face and frowned.

“Pa… you should get some rest.”

Rusl raised an eyebrow. “Doting and worrying is supposed to be my job Link, not yours.”

“Well, who did I get it from?” Link rebutted, and Rusl laughed.

“Correction then: doting is a parent’s job.”

“But I am a parent.”

“Not my parent!”

Link snorted and Rusl joined him in his laughter. It felt good to laugh after these past few days. Link sniffed and sighed, staring at Rusl’s bed.

“You should get some rest though, Pa.”

“You should get some rest too, Link.”

Link pursed his lips and looked down, shifting uncomfortably.

“Not as much as you.”

Rusl raised an eyebrow. “How much sleep have you gotten in the past forty-eight hours?”

Link clamped his mouth shut. “I… um… like… four…. hours…?”

Rusl smirked and gestured for him to come over. Link sighed and trudged over to him, the lack of sleep catching up to him. He rested against Rusl’s side while he wrapped his arm around him, and Link finally relaxed. It always felt good to be held by one of his parents. Being an adult, it didn’t happen as often compared to when he was a kid. Rusl started playing with the tip of his ear and he lightly kissed his forehead.

“I’m proud of you, Link,” he said softly.

“For what?”

“For becoming the man you are today. You’re a good person, determined, and kind. And I’m proud of you for it.”

Link smiled slightly. “But you and ma raised me to be that way.”

“Oh, we were only trying to nudge you kids in the right direction. Ultimately, it was you who chose to become a good person. Give yourself more credit.”

Link sighed and drowsiness began to get the better of him.

“Thanks. I love you pa.”

Sleep began to take over him as he heard his pa say one last thing.

“I love you too, my son.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zelda awoke with a jolt. She was in her bed, her heavy dress was replaced with a lighter one, and her daughter was reading a book by her side. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, startling Amber.

“Mother! You’re awake!” She exclaimed, closing her book. “We were so worried!”

Zelda looked around the room, confused. How long has she been out?

“Father came to me and asked me to stay by your side! I hadn’t left once!” Amber continued. “I’ve just been reading this book about birds, I’m hoping to find one to match the birds Hylians used to ride, but so far none of them have been big enough…”

“Amber,” Zelda rubbed her eyes, still feeling exhausted. “Where’s your father?”

“He’s in meetings right now, he said he’ll come by to see if you’re awake!”

Zelda groaned and rubbed her face. What had been happening while she was out? She hated not being in control of everything.

“I hope you’re alright,” Amber added quietly, and Zelda glanced over at her. She had a worried look on her face, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m fine, thank you for watching over me,” Zelda said with a smile, and Amber beamed at the praise.

“I’m so glad mother! Do you want me to fetch you some supper? It’s a little late but—“

“Wait, how long have I been asleep?”

“Oh! Um… a few hours.”

Zelda tried to hide her frustration, and she turned away as she groaned. She didn’t have time for this. She still needed to meet with the resistance! If she didn’t leave now…

Amber gasped as Zelda started to get out of bed, ignoring the vertigo that assaulted her.

“Um… mother? Father told me to make sure you stayed in bed a-and—“

“I’ll be fine, Amber,” Zelda grumbled, but she knew she wouldn’t be. It didn’t matter though, she needed to be somewhere.

“But… father said…” Amber’s voice trailed off, and Zelda heard another person enter the room.

“Zelda,” Edmund’s voice called out, and she sighed. Great.

“Father!” Amber hopped up and ran to him. “Mother’s awake! Do you want me to get a meal for her?”

“No, I already sent a maid to do that, my dear. You go get yourself to bed.”

Amber nodded and looked back at Zelda. “Goodnight mother.”

Zelda smiled slightly. “Goodnight Amber.”

She lingered for a moment, her mouth agape, but she finally turned away and left the room. Edmund and Zelda remained silent, both staring intensely at each other. Finally, Edmund let out a huff and started to walk forward.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” he said, “I brought you something.”

Zelda frowned. “What is it?”

Edmund sat down on the bed with her and handed her a little box. She carefully opened it to reveal a chocolate orange. She blinked several times, wondering if the lack of sleep had finally caught up to her and that she was hallucinating it. But the smell hit her nostrils, and she lightly traced the chocolatey edges.

“I remember you loved these things as a kid,” Edmund muttered, a nostalgic smile on his face. “I always hated them, but I did enjoy eating one slice with you whenever you had them.”

Zelda couldn’t help but smile as she grabbed a slice of the chocolate. She glanced at Edmund and her smile dropped slightly.

“How do you know I still love these?” She asked, and Edmund took in a quiet, deep breath.

“Do you?”

Zelda looked down and put one in her mouth. The chocolate instantly melted as it hit her tongue, the sweet flavor mixing with the tanginess of the orange rewarding her taste buds, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes in satisfaction. She hasn’t had one of these in years.

“It seems you still like it,” Edmund chuckled. Zelda opened her eyes and turned away, embarrassed.

“Yes,” she mumbled. Edmund hummed and leaned back, resting on his hands.

“I’m glad.”

Zelda turned to look at him, his mustache lifted up with his smile. “Why’d you bring this to me?” She asked.

“Oh, I figured you’d need an energy boost. Chocolate does wonders for that,” Edmund reached for a slice. “May I?”

Zelda nodded and offered one to him. He took a slice and bit into half of it. His face scrunched up in disgust and he covered his mouth. “Eugh, I still don’t like it.”

Zelda smiled and almost let out a giggle. “That’s quite a shame, they’re so delightful.”

Edmund grinned and stared at the uneaten slice. “I probably should’ve put the full thing in my mouth, now what will I do with this?”

Zelda stared at it for a moment, and before she could even think, she plucked it out of his hand.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” she said before putting the rest of the slice in her mouth. Edmund looked surprised but his expression softened into a pleasant smile. Zelda looked away, her face flushing slightly, and she picked at the remaining chocolates. “Thank you for this Edmund, that was very thoughtful of you.”

Edmund nodded. “Of course. I… I just want to help out.”

It grew silent between the two—any feeling of contentment was gone in an instant. Edmund picked up on Zelda’s discomfort and he let out a sigh.

“Why won’t you accept my help?”

Zelda glanced up at him. Where an accusatory and bitter tone normally was, this time, there was just curiosity. He was trying, it was only fair that Zelda tried as well.

But could she trust him?

It was kind of him to try to help her, but was he trying to manipulate her into trusting him? She remembered her father always showering her mother with gifts whenever he did something to upset her. It was always a way to regain her trust. Was Edmund trying to do the same?

“Listen, becoming the king of Hyrule hasn’t been an easy transition for me,” Edmund started, his back turned to Zelda, “Labrynna gives its power to the king, but here in Hyrule, all of the power goes to the queen.” He let out a breath while Zelda remained silent. He’s never told her this before. “I admit I’ve felt…. Emasculated as a result, and I’ve been acting childish because of it. For that I am sorry.” He glanced back at Zelda, an almost worried expression on his face, but Zelda stayed quiet. “But, I feel useless. I feel like I’m being used for my connection to my family, and that I’m nothing more than an object to your people and… I suppose that’s why I’ve been… frustrated about you keeping things to yourself. But… looking at you now, I’ve grown more worried than upset. You’ve overworked yourself so much to the point that you collapsed. That’s not a good thing. I suppose I… I just want to know why you’re so intent on doing everything yourself, when I’m here to… help you.”

Zelda stared at him for a moment, his emerald green eyes never leaving hers. For once, Zelda couldn’t find her words. She knew she should try to communicate with him—he was being so open with her, but why? Was he trying to worm his way into her life? Or was he being genuine? He’s never taken the time to sit down and talk to her about things, but then again, Zelda never gave him the chance. Did he deserve her to try to be open as well? She turned away, emotions running rampant. She couldn’t cry, it wasn’t queenly to do so, but she was so tired. She took a deep breath to control herself.

“I… I don’t know if I can trust you,” she finally said softly. She felt Edmund shift beside her.

“Why?”

“I–I’ve watched my father strip my mother of all her power. He took everything away from her, ruled Hyrule as a tyrant, and took control of every aspect of my life. It doesn’t matter if Hyrule gives the power to the queen, the king can take over and I can’t let that happen again. It’s happened to me twice now and… I just… I–” She hiccuped slightly and she rubbed her exhausted eyes. It was quiet as she once again tried to take control of her emotions, and she glanced up at Edmund, who looked horrified.

“I had no idea,” he finally said. “I always– I know we didn’t see each other a lot but… I didn’t know…”

Zelda sniffed and sat up straight. “My father did a good job at hiding it. And he made sure I hid it as well.”

Edmund gave her a sad look. “I’m so sorry. I…” He grew silent for a moment. “... thank you for telling me. I’ll leave you be. A maid should come by with food for you.”

“I-I can’t stay I need to–”

“Zelda.” Edmund gave her a firm look. “I…I ask that you give yourself rest and proper nourishment, please.”

Zelda stared for a moment, remembering the resistance. “I can’t. I still need to meet up with—“ she stopped herself and Edmund raised an eyebrow.

“With… your friends that are taking care of the disappearances?”

Zelda pursed her lips. “Yes.”

“Perhaps I can meet with them in your stead.”

She shook her head quickly. “No I—“ they didn’t know that she was the queen; if Edmund came instead, they would figure it out, even if one already knew about it. And she certainly couldn’t tell Edmund about Sheik. Frustration was apparent on Edmund’s face, and he sucked in a sharp breath and stood up.

“So are you just going to keep pushing yourself until you die? Sure, you may not trust me, I understand that. But you have representatives, diplomats, nobles, even guards that could go in your stead! Why can’t you utilize them?”

“Edmund. I. Can’t. A-at least…” Zelda looked down, her eyes going back and forth between the chocolate orange, the bed, and Edmund. He did have a point; she couldn’t keep going on like this. She really could end up dying from her neglect, which would be an awful thing for Amber and for the resistance. But she knew no one could help the resistance with the disappearances. She had to take care of that herself. But… perhaps with everything else…. Goddesses, she hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. “Could you… just take care of the meetings tomorrow? I must deal with these disappearances on my own.”

Edmund’s expression softened and he nodded. “I’ll take care of them.”

Zelda smiled. “Thank you.”

“Will you… visit Amber before you leave anywhere?”

Her lips parted and she nodded. Edmund nodded back, and for the first time in years, there was a mutual understanding between them. Edmund hesitated for a moment before finally turning to leave. Zelda was left alone, and she contemplated everything that had just happened.

She collapsed after a meeting and slept through the entire day. Her daughter stayed by her side while Edmund took care of the rest of the day. He brought her chocolates and they had a conversation that didn’t result in them fighting. They opened up to each other… and now…

She sighed. She needed to meet with the resistance, that was her first priority. Hopefully it wasn’t too late.

She wasted no time to get into her disguise, despite her exhausted body and rumbling stomach. Just as she was about to sneak out, she remembered what Edmund asked of her.

“Will you… visit Amber before you leave anywhere?”

She sighed. She’s been a terrible mother to her own daughter, not spending any time with her despite Amber desperately wanting to. If the resistance needing to meet up tonight hadn’t been about the missing people, she probably would have been tempted to stay. Maybe spend time with her family, her daughter, and try to be the mother Amber deserved. But she knew this was important; it had better be important. She needed to take care of this, and she needed to find the missing people so that Hyrule would be safe for Amber. If the resistance found out important information about the disappearances—like where the missing people were—she would personally go to rescue them herself and eradicate any threat that came in her way. This threat would come to an end, Zelda would make sure of it.

But it meant she would be gone for a while. So she didn’t know when she would see Amber again.

Zelda quietly snuck into Amber’s room, her daughter curled up in her bed, clutching a bird stuffed animal to her chest. She brought her mask down and walked up to her daughter, emotions going through her once again. Her sweet little Amber, growing up before her very eyes, and she was missing all of it.

Her hand brushed against Amber’s temple and she began to stir. She looked up at her mother and furrowed her brow.

“Mother?”

Zelda’s breath hitched and she helped Amber sit up.

“Amber,” she started, “I know… I know I haven’t been the best mother, but I want you to know that I love you with every fiber of my being.” Zelda pulled Amber close and hugged her. “I love you so much.”

She rocked her back and forth, Amber clinging to her tightly. Despite her dry eyes, Zelda found tears forming, and she had to choke back a sob. Amber however wasn’t hiding her crying, and she felt her tears soaking into her clothes. She finally pulled back, wiping away a tear on Amber’s cheek and rested her forehead against hers.

“I promise I’ll try to be better,” Zelda whispered, pecking her on the forehead, and she stood up, walking towards the door.

“M-mother?” Amber called out.

“I’ll be back,” Zelda promised. “Just stay here with your father and focus on your studies. I… I love you.”

“I love you too…”

Zelda’s heart hurt more than her aching body as she turned away. How many times has she turned her own daughter away? How many times has she brushed her off when Amber reached out? She ran out, her frustrations over herself giving her the energy she needed to escape the castle. How will Amber view her when she grew older? Would she resent her the same way Zelda resented her father? Would she feel unloved by her own mother? She stopped as she reached the entrance to the courtyard, looking back at the castle. She was panting heavily, sad and angry tears finally pouring down her face.

It didn’t matter what her father tried to do to her, Zelda never felt worthy of being queen. She didn’t feel worthy of anything in her life. Especially her own daughter.

Amber deserved a better mother.

For a moment as she stared at her castle, she thought she saw Edmund watching her, but his supposed silhouette went away in an instant. She turned away, her head hanging, and finally marched to Telma’s bar.

It was late, she didn’t know how late it was, but it was late enough for no one to be out in the streets save for a few guards. Sheik’s stomach was cramping terribly, and her throat and tongue felt like sandpaper. She almost wished she stayed behind to eat the food Edmund got for her, but she knew she couldn’t let the resistance down. She leaned against a wall catching her breath, her hand rubbing against a box in her pouch. She didn’t know why she grabbed the chocolate orange Edmund gave her; she supposed she couldn’t leave it behind. She continued onward to Telma’s bar, feeling that it was a much longer walk than what she remembered. She normally went through the dungeons to reach Telma’s bar, but from how she was feeling, she didn’t have the strength to go that way. As if to prove her right, her knees nearly buckled as she went down the stairs, causing her to stumble into the door. She pulled back and blinked harshly trying to clear her head. She took a deep breath to calm herself and she went inside. The bell rang loudly through the empty bar, announcing her presence.

“Sorry, we’re closed right now,” she heard Telma call out from the back. The barmaid poked her head from the curtains and her face lit up. “Sheik! Well, it’s about time you got here, honey!”

Sheik awkwardly shuffled forward, allowing herself to be hugged by Telma.

“S-sorry I’m late,” she mumbled, not caring if Telma heard her or not.

“Oh… it’s not me you should apologize to. The others have already gone to bed, save for Ashei and Shad— well… actually it’s just Ashei,” Telma laughed slightly. Sheik was disappointed that the others had already gone to sleep, it was much later than what she hoped for, but she was slightly relieved that Ashei was the only one awake save for Telma. Though Sheik had tried to keep her Royal identity a secret, Ashei had found out about it. She had to admit, it was nice not having to hide everything from one person. She could at least confide in her with everything that has been happening.

“My, you look terrible,” Telma continued, eyeing Sheik worriedly. “Here, let me whip you up something real quick—“

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that—“ a loud grumble from her stomach interrupted her and Telma raised an eyebrow. Sheik looked down, embarrassed. “Apologies.”

“You’re alright sweetheart, just head to the back and I’ll get you some soup.”

Sheik nodded and walked to the back where she saw Ashei and Shad sitting next to each other. Shad was asleep, his head against Ashei’s shoulder, while Ashei had her arm wrapped around him. She had a pleasant smile on her lips as she watched him, until she looked up, spotting Sheik.

“Are you going to sit down, or are you going to keep watching us like a creep?” She asked, and Sheik straightened.

“A-apologies… I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Don’t worry about it, yeah?” Ashei glanced at Shad, then back at her. “I wanted to stay up to wait for you. I knew you’d get here eventually. He was intent on staying up with me, but I guess he couldn’t do it.”

Sheik smiled despite Ashei not being able to see it. “I’m sorry I came so late.”

“You’re fine, but what happened? Why did it take so long for you to get here?”

“I…” Sheik didn’t want to talk about her fainting today, nor about her lack of sleep, food, and water. “I’ve just been very busy.”

Ashei studied her for a moment. “Are you alright?”

Sheik looked up at her, and simply shook her head. “I’ve been very busy,” she repeated.

“Labryn… Zel—Sheik, you can leave this to the rest of us. You don’t have to help us every second, yeah?”

“I know, but I’m tired of sitting here not knowing what’s going on. Not actively trying to better my kingdom.”

Ashei shook her head. “You can’t do everything by yourself. That’s why the resistance is here, to help Hyrule.”

“I know… I know… I just…” Sheik sighed. Goddesses she was exhausted. The two grew silent until Telma came in with a bowl.

“I could only make some broth, I hope that’s ok, sweet pea.”

Sheik felt herself beginning to drool and she gratefully took the bowl. “This is wonderful, thank you, Telma,” she said. Telma gave her a soft smile.

“Of course honey! That’s why I’m here, to take care of my friends.”

The word “friends” stuck with Sheik, and she looked down at the bowl, her emotions running rampant once again, though her eyes were finally too dry to cry again.

“Now, if you two will excuse me, I’m going to head to bed myself.” Telma turned to Ashei with a teasing smile. “Unless you need me to carry him to bed of course.”

Ashei gave her an annoyed smirk. “I can do that myself. Thank you though.”

The barmaid gave a hearty laugh. “Alright, good night you too. And Sheik? I have some water on the table for you. Take care.”

Sheik glanced at the cup on the table, her thirst becoming unbearable.

“Thank you,” she said again, and Telma turned away, leaving the two women alone. Sheik glanced around, eyeing Shad cautiously, and Ashei caught on.

“Don’t worry, he’s out like a light.”

“But what if he wakes up and sees me without my mask?”

“Then I’ll knock him back out, yeah?”

Sheik chuckled softly and pulled her mask down. Though it wasn’t filling, the broth was amazing, and the water made her feel much better than before. She sighed as she drank the broth, feeling relief run through her body as she finally got nutrients in her body. She glanced at Ashei who watched her worriedly, and she looked down.

“How was Hoz?” Sheik asked.

“Oh, he was fine. Quite determined to find the missing people. He’s a good man.”

Sheik smiled slightly. “Indeed, he is. What did Link and Rusl need?”

Ashei’s breath hitched. “They found what’s been causing these disappearances.”

Sheik gasped and nearly dropped her bowl. Though it was exactly what she had hoped for, she was still surprised that it actually happened. “What is it? What’s causing it?”

“Link thinks it’s a shadow beast.”

Dread instantly filled Sheik’s body. Memories of the beasts breaking through her castle and slaughtering the guards came in at once, and she clenched her fists. How…?

“We hope to make a plan to hunt and kill it, but according to Link, it’s gotten powerful over the past ten years, and it won’t die so easily.”

Sheik swallowed hard and nodded. “I see… any… any news on the people?”

Ashei shook her head sadly. “No, they only mentioned the beast I’m afraid.”

Sheik slumped slightly. If it was a shadow beast taking these people then… they probably weren’t alive anymore. She remembered watching Zant turn her guards into shadow beasts before her eyes, even those who weren’t personally cursed turned when beside them. Even her own parents turned into creatures of darkness…

Were the people dead? Or had they turned into shadow beasts, doomed to be mindless monsters until they’re put out of their misery? Sheik didn’t know. But if that were the case, wouldn’t they have known about the resurgence of shadow beasts? Either way, Sheik was having a hard time being hopeful about the fate of the missing people.

“We’re going to be doing a lot of planning tomorrow,” Ashei continued, “I don’t know when we’ll head out, but if you’re wanting to come with us, I suggest you get some rest, yeah?”

Sheik looked up at Ashei who had a firm expression on her face. Sheik had grown tired of everyone telling her to rest, but with the food and water in her system, she couldn’t fight back the sleepiness.

“Alright,” she mumbled before standing up, staring at her empty bowl confused.

“I can take care of that,” Ashei said, and Sheik set it down awkwardly. “We can talk more tomorrow, yeah?”

Sheik nodded and dragged herself up the stairs where several rooms were hidden. Her eyes were barely open as she tried to find a room to go in. She typically took the first room, so she opened the door and threw her head cover and mask off, closing the door behind her which left the room in total darkness. She stumbled over to the bed closest to her and fell asleep before her head could even hit the pillow.

[crabsnpersimmons]

Last Line Challenge

Rules:

In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many as you like).

Tagged by @inkydoughnut thanks! i love this challenge!

Last Line:

You hesitate. For a brief moment, you are very aware of the distance between you and the sun.

(i... don't know if i'll keep this to be honest, it's a bit too on the nose. i'll think about it.)

Last Art:

(WHO'S THAT POKÉMON? *cuts to a commercial break*)

oookie doke that's a word count of... 18 (man i always get the long lines for this challenge)

No pressure tagging!:

@starriegalaxy @flinxypie @thatmooncake @spadillelicious @lunarmoves @ren-054 @vacantfields @nikolliver @ramblingsofacotlfangirl @ohno-the-sun @pillowspace @alternativesaga @loonasketches @aquacomet @zamjd @cacaocheri @vodyaniks @normal-about-the-dca

[rye-bread08]

Finally finished my Gravity Falls OC

(If theres any questions about her, please do leave them in my inbox, I will do my best to answer them, since im practically crafting her story as I go, so things I say here might not be canon in later revisions)

And to my least favourite part writing: (TLDR; Childhood friends, Stan got kicked out, years passed they met again in Vegas, Dated, Stan 'died' in a Crash, 30 years later, met 3 & 4 in the woods, went to find Stan, reconnected)

Camila "Millie" Rosaline Garcia was born and raised in Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. As a child, she spent nearly every day at the beach, this is where she met the Twins, Stan and Ford. Being just a year younger than the two, she naturally went along with them really well, and they quickly became friends.

Millie attended the same school as the twins and developed a deep infatuation for Ford. Her feelings were met with a rejection, as Ford was aware that his twin, Stan, had crush on her. Despite this, their friendship remained strong throughout high school. When Stan suddenly left without a word, Millie was understandably upset. Ford simply told her to not worry about it and to continue with life.

After Graduating, Mills pursued her passion and attended an art school neighboring Backupsmore University. Her and Ford interacted a lot in the beginning and almost started dating, but Ford prioritized his studies, and their interactions happen less and less. They eventually stopped talking and just focused on their own lives. After graduating from University, Millie traveled across America, seeking opportunities in the film and theater industries. She eventually settled in Las Vegas, where she sold paintings and worked as a background actor in films. To make ends meet, she also took a job at a local diner. One day, a familiar face randomly appeared. It was her childhood friend Stanley Pines. Despite the years apart, they hit it off almost instantly. Quite Little has changed, he's still the Big goof she knew since childhood, and still had his athletic physique and strong personality. But now, he's ever so slightly more charismatic? One thing led to another, and their renewed friendship soon turned into romance. Their relationship led them to create new memories together. For a year or two, their relationship seemed like a second chance at happiness. They enjoyed every bit of time they were together and found comfort with each other’s company.

However, their rekindled romance was short-lived. During a risky illegal venture involving Stan, he fled, leaving Millie to face legal trouble. She was arrested, and after being incarcirated, the atmosphere of their relationship drastically changed. Even after they parted ways following a heated argument, their true feelings for each other still remained.

-

Millie’s life was a mess after finding out about Stan’s tragic death in a horrible car crash. But she pushed through, throwing herself into her art, traveling across the Americas, selling her creations to fund her travels. Her journey took her to various countries, and she continued to support herself through her art for years.

Summer of 2012 While traveling through the Pacific Northwest, coming from British Columbia, Mills encountered two children taking refuge from the rain in a cave near her campsite. The two looked very identical. The only way you could be able to distinguish them from each other were the numbers in their cap, reading "3" and "4". The two, who introduced themselves as Tracey and Quattro, were visibly distressed and confused. She quickly took the two of them in. Providing them with raincoats and other necessities she bought at a nearby truck stop.

As she spent time with the two, their stories began to reveal hints of the supernatural. Millie was not estranged to the paranormal and the bizarre. Frankly, she had her own encounters throughout the years, and was very intrugued with the stories they told her.

tho, a familiar name surfaced in their tales: Stanford Pines? They havent talked ever since she graduated and left New Jersey. Mill figured that since shes still in the area, It would be nice to visit an old friend. With 3 and 4 guiding her, she drove to Gravity Falls, Oregon.

"Welcome to Gravity Falls" she read Driving through the town filled with debree and on going construction, It was clear that something happened ,any questions made were met with the same phrase "Never mind all that"

She finally drives up to the Mystery Shack, and saw Stanley? ... something something, insert plot, something, Im too lazy to right it now. Im going to bed. ... If you finished reading through that, Thank you. Im not usually the type to write, this alone took me a whole night to do and revise. I will definitely make more content of her in the future, interacting with other characters, writing more backstory, those sorts. For now If you have any questions feel free to ask and I will do my best to answer them.

[blatterpussbunnyfromhell]

RIGHT!!!!!!! I don't think I'll ever get sick of those two! Are you re-reading or is this your first time? Do you have any favorite lesmand/armandstat quote(s) so far? (:

SAME, I COULD NEVER GET ENOUGH OF THEM! It's my first time reading the books, and I've been trying to get my hands on a copy of TotBT for about 3 weeks now since I finished QoTD (it should arrive in 5 days now).

There are actually soooo many Lesmand quotes that I love, I actually took pictures of my copy of TVL to highlight them on my phone, but they're in french 😅😅

There's this whole scene where Armand and Lestat are holding each other and Armand bites Lestat, tries to drink him dry and Lestat fights back and beats Armand to a pulp before feeling awful about it and taking him to Gabrielle and Armand begs them to let him stay with them but they can't allow it (cause he's too crazy and Gabrielle sees right through him), however Lestat says it doesn't matter, cause he knows that Armand’s place is with him and Gabrielle. I just really love this whole sequence of events.

And the line where Armand whispers to Lestat something like (retranslating from french back to english, it might not be accurate to the original quote) "Who would know how to love us as we can love each other?" this line fucks me up for at least two reasons:

1. It's so unbelievably desperate and romantic and speaks to Armand’s yearning for Lestat and what he represents, and how they love one another despite knowing what the other is capable of at his worst

2. It's eerily similar to that scene in IWTV when after burning down the Paris coven, Louis tells Armand this (and yeah I have a picture of my english copy for this one):

And after reading TVL and going back to this scene, it's obvious to me that Armand here was thinking of what he said to Lestat and was surprised to hear similar words from Louis (who interpreted his shock as him being confused by what he meant).

And also that moment in QotD where Lestat refers to Armand as an urchin with the face of an angel fjjfdkkdjfls.

I really hope that s3 will give us some lesmand scenes from Lestat’s perspective <3

[non-un-topo]

Found this old doodle and added some colours

[delphi-dreamin]

Send Nudes 2

Once again, inspired by @midnight-vixn . But this time, with some Lucifer spice sprinkled in by @ariamichel !

Pairing: Lucifer x GN!MC (pronouns: you/your)

The first notification you receive doesn't ring any alarm bells. You're used to getting texts from Lucifer while in class, generally to check up on you or remind you of council meetings or dinner duty. And it's late enough in the day that he would normally be finished with his last class and preparing for the student council meeting. If there was one.

You glance at the date again on your D.D.D. There isn't a student council meeting today. And it isn't your turn to make dinner. So why is he texting you all of a sudden?

You move your D.D.D. into your lap and open the message from Lucifer, nearly choking at the image that fills your screen. He's in his chair in his RAD office, jacket open, collar unbuttoned to his clavicle, hair disheveled, and face flushed a delicate petal pink.

You swallow hard and cross your legs, suddenly unable to concentrate on anything being said at the front of the classroom. Had he known? When he'd sat next to you in your last class, had he known the effect it had on you? Could he tell how aroused you had been, just sitting beside him and breathing in his intoxicating scent? You thought you’d hidden it well at the time. You were attentive to the lesson and participated in the discussion. So how had he known?

The second notification makes your heart skip a beat. You know before even looking down that it’s another photo from Lucifer, but even so, you pray that it’s just a text from any of his brothers.

You open the message and have to swallow a moan. It’s a lower angle shot than the previous photo, and as far as you can tell Lucifer is still sitting in the same position. But this time, you can see he’s holding his swollen cock in one ungloved hand and he’s staring directly into the camera with heavy-lidded ruby eyes.

He knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows that you’re in class and that you want him and that it’ll drive you absolutely mad to know that he’s in his private office stroking his gorgeous cock just for you.

The next notification is a simple text.

L: Care to join me?

MC: You know I’m in class, you sadistic ass.

L: Pity. I was going to excuse you on council business.

MC: I’ll be there in five.

L: Don’t be late.

You’re out of the classroom without a second glance, ignoring the teacher’s sputtering calls for you to return. Lucifer can take care of it later.

Taglist: @leavesandflowers @sassykattery @sparkbeast20 (I hope your like meant you wanted to be tagged!)

[eskawrites]

the funniest part of the celebrity fake dating au is that dustin spent years teasing robin and steve for being blatantly in love, when in reality anyone with eyes could have seen that robin and nancy were head over heels for each other the entire time

[tunastime]

Stars Realigning

what's GOOD! happy mcyt au fest day(s)! this is my contribution to 2024's mcyt au fest, based on the art of my fantastic artist in crime @eyesandbees. super shoutout to tetris (GO LOOK AT THE ART RN), this au really did something fantastic for my brain :3 and kudos to all the @mcytblraufest mods, contributors, and my mutuals new and old who joined in. mwah!

Xisuma and Exonia were explorers by nature—and how could they not be, when the world rested right outside their fingertips. When Xisuma pulls himself and their brother into an unfamiliar End dimension, their only chance of escape is with a player they've hardly met, to a space station they've never even heard of. Built on the foundations of exploration and discovery, HC might be all the opportunity the siblings need to start a new life—or ruin their only shots at understanding themselves.

(12,765 words) (Read the whole fic here!)

Every player knows two facts about the End: one of those is that it is very large. The other is that it is very dangerous. The islands stretch onwards as far as they eye can see, tipping over a black horizon line invisible to the naked eye. The static particles of void—ink black and speckled grey—fill the spaces that stone and cities and blocky fruit trees do not. No players make their home here—none dare to spend more time than they must. The End is a utility, more than it is a dimension of its own. Hostile conditions make it unlivable to those other than the ones that know it best: endernians, endermen, the dragon, and her egg. 

The third, most often overlooked fact, that meshes with the others in vastness and hostility, is that the End is no place for strangers to combat. 

Xisuma is one of those strangers—was one of those strangers. World hopping was dangerous, unpredictable, dimension hopping even more so, especially for them—for the untrained. He hadn’t meant for either of them to tumble into the End dimension, prepared or otherwise, with its thin air and itchy end dust and large, very large, very angry dragon. It's the first thing his eyes catch—the movement of large wings and a massive, black snout as the world tilts and settles around them. 

Xisuma gasps as they finish settling into the world and Exonia follows suit, shoving them both behind the pillar beside them. The air feels charged with energy, thick with the beat of air from the dragon’s wings. Xisuma swallows as the two of them drop behind the pillar, and as they manage to catch their breath from the initial shock, he stirs up the courage in his chest to peek out behind the pillar. He steps out into the ring around him, eyes searching for the dragon above him. He can hear her cry even from on the ground. The crystals that bolster her strength glow brightly as she passes. It only takes a moment for her to swoop down as she circles, and it’s in this moment that Xisuma realizes he’s been seen. 

They freeze.

The dragon crashes to the ground, the heavy footfalls of her landing shaking the dirt around them. 

Xisuma stares into the creature’s face, purple eyes unblinking.

Something grabs his hand. It takes him a startlingly long moment to realize it’s Exonia, their eyes wide behind their tinted glasses. He’s still too busy staring up into the maw of the black dragon, her eyes trained on his every movement, the betraying flick of their tail. His heart beats fast in the base of their throat. A voice jumps to life in his mind—surely if he stays put, if he doesn’t move, the great dragon will turn her head away from him, and spare him, and spare his twin, and the world will be right again. Xisuma shuts their eyes. The beat between his first and second breath feels like a millenia.

The dragon snuffs a great breath that catches into a screech, its heavy head whipping back and around as Ex tugs on his arm. His eyes snap open. 

He’s not dead.

The dragon roars.

If he squints, Xisuma thinks he can see a shape, blurred by the scent and fog of the dragon’s breath, barely visible against the dark black obsidian pillars. It draws back its glittering weapon and fires, arrows flying high above the dragon’s head and to the peak of the pillars above. The peak explodes; obsidian chips and dust rain down from the blast.

He jerks his head to look at Ex. Their face is pulled tight in confusion and fear, a mask of anger flickering over it instead as they tug his hand again. He stumbles forward, feet catching pocks in the stone before he regains his footing. The dragon’s focus stays trained on the newcomer. She slashes with her claws, jaws chomping on thin air as the figure darts around with the effort of someone trained to deal with monsters her size.

An adventurer. Another player.

He turns back to look at Exonia—the back of their head, the tip of a pointed ear they can see. They’re practically pulling him along into further darkness toward something he can’t yet see, weaving between obsidian pillars as the island stretches out in front of them, all the way to a noticeable drop into void. As they cut through a section of chorus trees, a craft makes itself known on the next ridge.

A way out.

Xisuma pales, the oxygen in his lungs suddenly feeling very thin.

“What is that thing?” he manages as they start to slow. Ex shoots him a look over their shoulder, eyebrows tightly furrowed.

“A ship!” they say. “Don’t be foolish!”

“We don’t even—” X starts, but Exonia pulls them further forward. They dip their head, avoiding the endermen that roam around them, sinking in on themselves to appear smaller. They scramble up the next hill. In the short distance they’ve put between the dragon and themselves, they can still hear the screech of her anger and the beat of her wings. X’s heart still slams away in his throat.

“D’you want to be eaten, you derp?” Ex hisses, dropping into a crouch as they shimmy over the crest of the hill. X scrambles after them, finding their footing on the steep slope and up onto the ridge.

“No!” They blanch at the thought of the dragon finding them again, with her huge, yellow-white teeth and debilitating breath. “Why would I want that?”

Ex shoots them a pointed glance, taking a few quick steps around the edge of the “ship”—if it was a ship at all—as they do.

“Then start lookin’ for a way in!” they bark. Xisuma sets his jaw. Sighing through his nose, he picks himself up from his crouch, and follows suit. The ship is bright white and grey-black, hidden carefully by the dark sky around them and by shimmering enchantments that Xisuma can only guess at as he travels around its side and toward the back. It’s not a large craft—certainly different than anything he’d ever seen. 

Ex investigates with the unshakable confidence of someone who’s read far too much about this exact situation, or craft, or biome, or what have you. Xisuma tries to siphon that energy for himself, watching as they track the side of the metal with eyes partially obscured. They reach the back together, the ship’s large bay door shut against the End and void around them. X watches Ex’s face, their tail flicking agitatedly. Their hands find a depression near the fins of the ship. As they press into it, the door hisses, starts to lower onto the dusty stone below. Exonia scrambles back, catching Xisuma as they do, their hands clasping together again. Xisuma watches as the dark inside floods with the End’s pale glow, illuminating the sparse space within. 

It’s a holding bay—a handful of boxes are scattered around, their heavy plastic lids strapped tight. Bolted storage units line one wall, and a short staircase leads upward, into the space Xisuma can only assume is the main cabin of whoever that figure was.

Xisuma blinks. 

Exonia enters.

Enters is a loose term, because as his foot steps onto the metal-ribbed platform, Xisuma feels something crawl it’s way up his spine and turns, much too fast, Ex’s name already jumping from his throat.

There’s a crackle, like the sound of fireworks in the distance, as the sky fills with soft purple light. Xisuma alone watches the figure turn, a large, dark object cradled in their arms, and feels them stare back. Distance and the helm obscuring most of their face doesn’t do their features justice—it looks like a man, a human, staring back at him, eyes wide and bright, expression unreadable from here. All Xisuma knows is that the chill starts at the base of his neck and pulls through him, catching his lungs and heart and spine all the way down, hooking him in place. 

“Xisuma—” Exonia starts, tone bordering on impatient, but as they turn, they see exactly what they did. And they say again, their voice taking a fine, fearful edge:

“Xisuma.”

The figure starts toward them, and X can feel the immediate betrayal of all his senses, all at once, as his hackles raise, body recoiling until his feet hit the cold metal of the ship behind him. Exonia grabs his arm as he stumbles from the platform, tugging him away from the ship as the figure starts to close the distance between them. The man is carrying the dragon egg, much too large for his arms as he calls out to them.

“Hey! Wait! Wait!” The man calls. Xisuma stutters as he tries to scramble away, skittering to a stop at the man’s plea. As he turns to look over his shoulder, against all better judgment, he realizes the man has crouched by the entry door, egg still in his arms. The beat between the man stopping, dropping to a crouch to make himself small, and his next words is a rift Xisuma considers just jumping into. He wills a small, shaky breath into his lungs. The man sets the egg at his feet, hands spread.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breath evening as he stills for a moment. “I didn’t mean to scare you away. The dragon looked pretty dangerous!”

Xisuma blinks, breathing hard. Exonia manages to summon the courage he can’t seem to even taste, voice coming small from beside him.

“Who are you?” they muster. The man dips his head.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says slowly. “I’m Keralis. Are you two from here?” 

Xisuma shakes his head. The man, Keralis, nods.

“Are you lost? Do you need help going home?” 

Xisuma offers a nod this time.

“Do you… know where home is?”

There’s a beat. The silence stretches on in the absence of anyone’s voice or actions, until Ex finally says:

“Not anymore. ‘S too far.”

Keralis doesn’t say anything for a moment. He stares instead down at the egg in his arms, the only expression on his face evident by his eyes through his visor. Xisuma watches him, trying to read that expression and coming up blank. It doesn’t look malicious, though. He’s begun to settle from the razor’s edge of nervousness and back down into a sense of normalcy. 

“I don’t want to leave you here. I…” Keralis hums. “I can take you back with me. And then maybe there will be someone who can help you get home, how about that?”

“Where’re you from?” Exonia asks. Keralis smiles—Xisuma can tell by the squint of his eyes.

“I’m from a ship. A spaceship in the sky.”

[doodlejoltik]

the unwinnable game

[~2.7k words. Read it here or on Ao3]

Zugzwang (from German 'compulsion to move'; pronounced [ˈtsuːktsvaŋ]) is a situation found in chess and other turn-based games wherein one player is put at a disadvantage because of their obligation to make a move.

Centuries after their battle atop Mt Coronet, Rei confronts Volo in a nondescript forest, somewhere on Pasio. But the answers he's seeking aren't so easily given.

aka. a continuation of that one dialogue cliffhanger in the Mysterious Stones chapter because I'm extremely normal about these two

///

“There's something you'd like to say, isn't there… Rei?”

Volo turns around and Rei musters up the bravest expression he can.

Now that he's here, he doesn't know what to say first; all his planned questions bounce around his head, clamouring for dominance. Why are you here? How? Since when? You have a Togepi and a Togekiss? Why a tournament? What do you know about the mysterious stones?

Were we ever really friends?

That is, it takes an embarrassingly long time for Rei to respond. In the end, what he says isn’t a question at all. “That Togepi in the ruins was yours.”

Volo only shrugs. He's got a languid smile on his face. “It might've been. She likes running around.”

Internally, Rei is relieved. So he hasn't been seeing things. But he doesn't let it show on his face, and crosses his arms. “Why’d you hide from everyone for months, and only show yourself now?”

“Now, I wouldn't call it hiding,” Volo replies, waving his finger. “This is a big island, and I've made a good few acquaintances here on Pasio already! Perhaps our paths simply didn't cross.”

With the number of times Rei has visited the ruins for mysterious stone research, the odds of that are vanishingly unlikely. “But why didn't you even try? It's not like I've been keeping a low profile.” Of course, the reason is probably something like I tried to end the world and it would be awkward. And that's what Rei needs Volo to say.

The Arc Phone sits heavily in his belt satchel, recording every word.

“Oh, I was just preoccupied. The ruins here are simply fascinating! Even though they're replicas, teasing apart all the ancient cultures used in their construction is such a fruitful area of study. You know me.”

Yeah, I know you. “Find anything interesting about Arceus?” Rei snarks.

“Not particularly!” Volo shakes his head, looking disappointed. Then he perks up, and continues, “Now, Dialga and Giratina however…”

“Oh?” Rei seethes quietly. Of course he had been watching. Why hadn't Giratina said anything?

“It’s curious, isn’t it, how they have seen fit to partner themselves with new wielders?” Volo smiles. “And Palkia too, I’ve heard.”

“It is interesting,” Rei forces out, adjusting his scarf. He recalls Volo's last parting line about Arceus, all those months ago. “Nice to know that they've bonded willingly with people in this time,” he says pointedly.

Ignoring Rei's tone, Volo continues, “That man, Cyrus, who controls Palkia. What a character, wouldn't you say?”

Rei has a lot of thoughts about the Sinnohans’ decision to allow Cyrus - a man who has literally tried to remake the world and not disavowed said goal - to keep the embodiment of Space with him. He'd thought Adaman and Irida had to be joking, at first. What would the Captain think if she saw what her descendant had turned the Galaxy Team into…

“I suppose you see yourself in him.” Rei says flatly.

It's only the two of them here, in the middle of a forest, in the dead of night, so Volo should have no reason to be evasive. And yet -

“Hardly,” Volo laughs off. “Intellectual curiosity, nothing more.”

This is going nowhere. Does Volo seriously think he can fool him again? Probably not - every remark is undoubtedly purposeful, but with just enough plausible deniability to appear innocent. So maybe he just wants to mess with him. Great.

A different strategy, maybe. He’ll surely make a mistake at some point if Rei keeps pushing. “This… tournament that you proposed,” Rei says. “I suppose you're participating?”

“Naturally!” Volo says cheerfully. “Battles on Pasio are done in teams, are they not? Perhaps you'd like to-”

“No.” Rei glares at him. Oh, now, that was going too far. Going to shut that line of conversation immediately.

“So hostile,” Volo sighs. “A united Hisuian contingent would've been a sight to see. Well, the clan leaders should be more receptive, at least.”

“Not if I can help it,” Rei says, crossing his arms. He’s well aware of how childish it sounds, but the thought of his friends falling for Volo’s innocent merchant act, again, is too horrible to consider. Mentally, he rapidly revises his priorities - he has to meet with Adaman and Irida as soon as possible and explain everything. Tomorrow, ideally. Does he have the energy for that? It’s something like one in the morning, right now. He's dead on his feet. But he’ll make it happen. He has to, before Volo does.

But what if he’s already too late? When had Rei last spoken to them? The dance competition, that wasn’t that long ago, right? At least a week, maybe more, his mind supplies. He'd just been so busy… and surely they would have told him if they'd met Volo.

This little anxious spiral must be evident on Rei’s face somehow, because Volo chuckles, stepping closer. “The world doesn't revolve around you, Rei. Not here.”

“You don’t get to act all high and mighty,” Rei snaps. “Not when you’re pulling everyone along on your own strings. I suppose you think you make the world go ‘round.”

But Volo has a point, no matter how much he hates to admit it. Rei’s been assuming he was someone significant to this whole saga. The appearance of the mysterious stones coincided with his and Akari’s arrival to Pasio, after all, so was he really wrong for thinking that?

And Arceus spoke to him first. That had to mean something.

“On the contrary, I simply meant that we’re all on equal ground,” Volo says. For the first time, goes unspoken.

“I’ll still beat you,” Rei vows. He’d done it before, he could do it again. No matter if he was still favoured by Arceus or not. “Because my bonds with my Pokemon, and my friends, are real. And you don’t know what that feels like.” Though intended to be a sharp jab at Volo, instead, a deep bitterness colours those final words.

Volo’s expression twists into something briefly unreadable before it settles into a polite half-smile. “You’re quick to assume the worst of me.”

“Quick?” Rei barks out a harsh laugh. “No, it was exactly the opposite.” He’d been strung along so thoroughly, accepting every strange behaviour as simply one of Volo’s little oddities. Only up at the Celestica Ruins did those allowances start to crumble – and by then, it was too late.

Volo’s look at Rei is one of intrigue. The way Rei's seen him examining ancient ruins, like he's something Volo wants to observe, or study.

And Rei has had it. Enough dancing around the subject, trying to draw it out of Volo; clearly it’s never going to happen. “Is this all just a game to you? You tried to destroy the world! You want me to think you care about anyone?”

Volo raises an eyebrow. “That's a bold claim. Surely if that had happened, it would've ended up in the history books, somewhere.”

Well – okay. The only person who knew what happened was the Professor, sort of. And Cogita. Arceus knows how she found out. But Professor Laventon didn't know half of it, even, Rei had just incoherently vented everything emotional and hurting at him, swore him to secrecy, and then hoped that he'd never have to unpack that again.

Clearly Arceus had other designs.

“We were friends.” Rei’s voice cracks a bit, there; he hates how true it is. “I thought we were friends. But you were going to kill me for standing in your way!”

Volo frowns. “Now, why would I do that?” He takes a few paces towards Rei and smiles, purposefully, grin stretching tight across his face. “I wouldn't want to lose my favourite customer, after all!”

Stumbling backwards to regain the distance, Rei exclaims, “I’ve bought maybe one thing from you. Stop calling me that!”

“Recipient of free samples, semantics,” Volo shrugs, entirely unaffected, and Rei wars with the competing urges to punch him or bolt into the treeline.

“Play dumb all you want,” Rei hisses, “but you’ve already shown your hand. I could tell them everything. You won’t be able to fool anyone ever again.” Least of all me.

Volo tilts his head with a smirk. “Well then, why are you here?” he asks, calling Rei’s bluff.

And though he can’t know that the Arc Phone is listening in Rei’s satchel, Rei realises that his motivations must be laughably transparent. Maybe Volo thinks Akari, or Cynthia, is watching the whole thing from the treeline. The specifics of it don’t matter, really. Rei’s been outplayed from the very beginning.

Volo makes a little movement with his hand. There's a sudden rustle of movement behind Rei, and he whips around, hand on Decidueye's Pokeball -

But it's just Volo's Togepi, who warbles in alarm and quickly toddles past him.

“What would people rather believe in?” Volo says lightly. “The accusations of a boy who jumps at shadows?” He bends down to pick up Togepi. “Or in the innocence of their friend?”

In Volo's arms, Togepi lets out an adorable squeak.

Over the Pokeball on his belt, Rei’s hand is trembling with misfired adrenaline. He carefully drops his hand to his side and raises his head up high. “Cynthia trusts me. I’ve been here for months, and we’ve worked together on the mysterious stones since they were first found.”

“And so?” Volo shrugs. “A working relationship is hardly worth much. I thought you would've known better, with what Kamado did…”

Rei flinches.

The worst part about it all was that no matter what ulterior motives Volo might have had, back then, when he’d been thrown out into the wild with barely a few days’ worth of supplies – Volo had been there for him when nobody else was.

Volo had seen Rei fall apart and put himself back together with forced cheer. And so, he knew exactly where the cracks were, where to strike with his words to disassemble Rei all over again.

Of course Rei knows Cynthia is responsible, and smart, and has been nothing but friendly to him – but he doesn't really know her, does he? And Volo is her ancestor. Which is pretty obvious, honestly. She’d probably like him immediately.

Just like everyone else did. Including Rei.

“Besides, you're not the only one who's been making friends in high places,” Volo adds smoothly. “I’ve heard that Bettie’s word is quite well regarded.”

So now that Rei had wised up to Volo's true nature, he'd gone and found himself new people to use. “You’ve always been like this, then,” Rei huffs. None of it had been real; their entire ‘friendship’ had been predicated on Rei's usefulness. “They deserve to know the truth about you.”

“Truth? Or your own opinion?” Volo scoffs. “You think so highly of yourself, Rei, but you're not the beloved Hero of Hisui here. No…” he smiles. “You're entirely ordinary. Do remember, it was everyone in that stadium who heard Arceus' voice.”

Admittedly, that stings. He'd thought - maybe - that Arceus was finally telling him why He'd brought Rei here. What he was supposed to do in this strange new land. But he'd failed, unable to clearly hear Arceus’ voice.

Rei spares a thought for the Arc Phone, once a vessel for divine inspiration, now reduced to recording mortals’ petty feuds. His messages to Arceus have been left on read for months. He's probably allowed to be a bit petty, at this point.

Volo continues, “Imagine! Any one of us could become Arceus’ champion.” Togepi makes a little noise. “Yes, even you,” he says indulgently, lifting her up to face him, and she goes cross-eyed following his waving finger.

It's horribly cute, the sort of thing Rei would've been charmed by before. And it's clear Volo is no longer taking Rei seriously at all.

What starts out as a wavering thought suddenly asserts itself with startling clarity. “I don't need anything from you,” Rei realises. He'd told himself he was here for evidence, something concrete he could hold against Volo, and that was true. But beyond that, he'd been after something entirely more personal.

He can walk away.

“I don't need anything from you,” he repeats, with force this time.

Volo turns his attention away from Togepi, and this of all things is what finally seems to make him genuinely confused. “Leaving so soon, Rei?”

Rei doesn't elaborate. He turns on his heel to stalk through the forest back to civilisation. Now, because if he says anything more he doesn't know if he'll ever bring himself to stop. Because he's asking for something he'll never get.

Volo's saying something. He doesn't care to catch all the words, though some of it filters through - “challenge”, “tournament”, and “rivals” among them. The general shape of the message is clear. They'll meet again; Rei's powerless to stop that. But as best he can, he'll shake off whatever lingering grip Volo still has on him.

He doesn't stop walking as the trodden earth turns to paved cobbles under his feet, and he makes it all the way up his building's winding stairs to the little studio apartment that he's been given. Home, for now. Collapsing onto the lone armchair, he takes the Arc Phone out of his satchel and turns off the recording. Thank Arceus for divinely bestowed infinite storage, he supposes.

Rei knows that if he were to listen to it, there'd be nothing of use. Only hidden barbs and Rei’s own ugly, wounded anger. It feels fitting to delete it, to banish the whole encounter to memory, and perhaps eventually, less than that.

He doesn't, and instead tucks it away in a folder several layers deep.

Maybe Professor Laventon wrote about the whole disaster in his private diaries. Rei knows he has them, bless the man. He'd once stumbled into the Professor's office late at night, after an exhausting, terrifying escape from an Alpha, ready to tell Laventon off for sending him there – and startled the Professor fiercely, who quickly shut the manuscript he was writing with a blush. So even if Rei had sworn him to secrecy, he might have confided in the written word.

That's something he can set Cynthia on digging up, then. Even just the suggestion that Laventon, the First Pokemon Professor, had such personal writings, would probably send her into an unstoppable research frenzy. That much about her, at least, he knows. If it still existed in this era, Cynthia would almost certainly find it.

And maybe he doesn't need evidence. Not for the people who matter, anyway.

Akari’s only a few doors away, their apartments close neighbours just like back in Jubilife Village. If he wanted, he could wander over there once the sun rose, have her fantastic tamago rice, and tell her everything.

Is he ready to take that step into thin air? To trust that he'll be believed, in something that's infinitely more convoluted and improbable than the simple plea – “I don't know why the sky is red, it's not my fault, I only ever did what you told me to” –

Well. Volo might've been the last one to break his trust, but he was in no way the first.

Can he make good on those words that he’d levelled so confidently against Volo? That his bonds with his friends are real?

Akari had never doubted. And Adaman and Irida had gone against Kamado's will, risking the standing of their people, just to help him. He would be doing them a disservice if he didn't at least try.

And in this dangerous game, it might be the only winning move.

Even as he makes this decision, he feels the pull of sleep. It's offensively late, or early, in the morning now, depending on perspective, and all of this is Tomorrow Rei’s problem.

There's no energy left to even stumble to bed. Rei falls asleep right there in the lumpy armchair, hand loosely gripped around the Arc Phone, Adaman and Irida’s Poryphone numbers on the screen, ready and waiting.

And, though Rei will certainly wake up sore with a crick in his neck come the morning…

For the first time in a long while, his dreams are not restless.