#the transparent vessel that holds everything

[mumblelard]

the french press of theseus or i woke up this morning feeling, briefly, like an old version of myself

i heard something last night that confirmed everything i thought i already knew and it still changed everything. it released a part of me that i didn't know was still bound in that way. it made everything better but also so much worse

[artemlegere-art]

The Voyage Of Life

Artist: Thomas Cole (1801-1848)

Date: 1842

The Voyage of Life is a series of four paintings created by the American artist Thomas Cole in 1840 and reproduced with minor alterations in 1842, representing an allegory of the four stages of human life. The paintings, Childhood, Youth, Manhood, and Old Age, depict a voyager who travels in a boat on a river through the mid-19th-century American wilderness. In each painting the voyager rides the boat on the River of Life accompanied by a guardian angel. The landscape, each reflecting one of the four seasons of the year, plays a major role in conveying the story. With each installment the boat's direction of travel is reversed from the previous picture. In childhood, the infant glides from a dark cave into a rich, green landscape. As a youth, the boy takes control of the boat and aims for a shining castle in the sky. In manhood, the adult relies on prayer and religious faith to sustain him through rough waters and a threatening landscape. Finally, the man becomes old and the angel guides him to heaven across the waters of eternity.

Voyage Of Life: Childhood

In the first painting, Childhood, all the important story elements of the series are introduced: the voyager, the angel, the river, and the expressive landscape. An infant is safely ensconced in a boat guided by an angel. The landscape is lush; everything is calm and basking in warm sunshine, reflecting the innocence and joy of childhood. The boat glides out of a dark, craggy cave which Cole himself described as "emblematic of our earthly origin, and the mysterious Past." The river is smooth and narrow, symbolizing the sheltered experience of childhood. The figurehead on the prow holds an hourglass representing time.

In the first version of this work, Cole shows less landscape on the right side and thus does not include the river winding to the horizon. The perspective is also different: in the original, the boat is in the foreground, while in the second, Cole moves the boat deeper in the picture and portrays more of the river in the foreground.

Voyage of Life: Youth

The second painting, Youth, shows the same lush, green landscape, but here the view widens as does the voyager's life experience. Now the youth has firm hold of the tiller as the angel watches and waves from the shore, allowing him to take control. The subject's youthful enthusiasm and energy is evident in his forward-thrusting pose and billowing clothes. In the distance, an ethereal citadel towers in the sky, a shimmering white beacon that represents the dreams and ambitions of humanity.

Detail of Thomas Cole's The Voyage of Life: Youth: shows the boy departing in the boat; the angel bids him farewell from the shore. To the youth, the tranquil river appears to lead directly to the shimmering beacon, but at the far right of the painting one can just glimpse the river as it changes to become rough and difficult with the danger of rocks.

Cole comments on the landscape and the youth's ambitions: "The scenery of the picture—its clear stream, its lofty trees, its towering mountains, its unbounded distance, and transparent atmosphere—figure forth the romantic beauty of youthful imaginings, when the mind elevates the mean and common into the magnificent, before experience teaches what is the Real.

Voyage of Life: Manhood

Third in the series, Manhood, shows a now grown figure in the vessel, amid the tribulations of adult life. Storm clouds ominously darken the sky, wind whips at the man's clothing and rain falls in the background as the boat approaches a treacherous part of the river which has become rocky and rapid, running through a treacherous gorge marked by a gnarled, leafless tree. Gentler country lies at the bottom of the defile and the distant sky line lightens in that direction hinting of the hope of better times ahead. Among the dangers the man has not lost his faith: he has let go of his boat's tiller (which may have broken) and is part kneeling, gazing upward with hands clasped together. The vessel's figurehead now holds the hourglass while far above, behind and unseen by the voyager, his guardian angel continues to watch over from the Heavens, shining brightly through a break in the clouds. Cole writes:

Trouble is characteristic of the period of Manhood. In Childhood there is no cankering care; in Youth no despairing thought. It is only when experience has taught us the realities of the world, that we lift from our eyes the golden veil of early life; that we feel deep and abiding sorrow; and in the picture, the gloomy, eclipse-like tone, the conflicting elements, the trees riven by tempest, are the allegory; and the Ocean, dimly seen, figures the end of life, to which the voyager is now approaching. The demon forms are Suicide, Intemperance, and Murder, which are the temptations that beset men in their direst trouble. The upward and imploring look of the voyager, shows his dependence on a Superior Power, and that faith saves him from the destruction that seems inevitable.

Manhood contains the most differences between the original 1840 version and the revised 1842 version. The modified version shows a reduction in the wall of rocks and more of the distant sea. As in Childhood, he repositioned the boat, moving it further back in the painting and closer to the rapids. He also modified the stance of the voyager, from standing in the original to kneeling in the replica.

Voyage of Life: Old Age

The final painting, Old Age, is an image of death. The man has grown old; he has survived the trials of life. The waters have calmed, the river flows into the waters of eternity. The figurehead and hourglass are missing from the battered boat; the withered old voyager has reached the end of earthly time. In the distance, an angel descends from heaven, while the guardian angel hovers close, gesturing toward the other. The man is once again joyous with the knowledge that Faith has sustained him through this perilous life to the promise of Heaven. The landscape is practically gone, just a few rough rocks represent the edge of the earthly world, and dark water stretches onward. Cole describes the scene: "The chains of corporeal existence are falling away; and already the mind has glimpses of Immortal Life.

Cultural Significance

The Voyage of Life was well received by critics and the public; the United States was experiencing the religious revival sometimes known as the Second Great Awakening. The four paintings were converted to engravings by James Smillie (1807–1885) after Cole's death and the engravings widely distributed in time for the Third Great Awakening, giving the series the prestige and popular acclaim it retains today

[zaczenemiji]

Morpheus x Goddess!Arianrhod!Reader

Synopsis: Arianrhod awakens from a dream in which Morpheus proposed to her. Later, she drifts back into The Dreaming, where Morpheus begins showing her his realm.

Word Count: 2,539

PART TWO

PART THREE

✧ Dream Upon A Star ✧

Arianrhod awoke slowly, the lingering warmth of The Dreaming still wrapped around her like a soft veil, contrasting the coldness of her realm. She lay on her side, the ambient glow of the celestial orbs floating casted gentle shadows across her chamber. For a moment, she wondered if it had all been a dream within a dream.

Her mind replayed the events. Morpheus had asked her to be his queen. It was too wondrous to be real. She slowly turned her body to face the other side. To her surprise, the flower in her dream was there. Its pale blue petals shimmered and its silver veins glowed softly.

She felt warmth surface in her chest. She gently reached for it. The petals, cool and smooth, reminded her that it was all real.

She rose from her bed, the flower in hand, and walked towards her balcony. The endless night sky stretched above her, and the thousands of Stellar Blooms blossomed below.

She looked at the flower from Morpheus, hesitant to plant it in her gardens. Doing so might help Morpheus find her realm. She had to ensure that the flower’s presence wouldn’t betray the secrets of her domain.

“Lyrael,” she called in her mind. “Fetch me a vase from the vault.”

In her castle, there is a hidden chamber called the Time Vault that contains artifacts and records of all events seen by the moon. It’s accessible only to the goddess and her confidant.

Not long after, Lyrael arrived at her chambers. “My lady,” she called. “I’ve come to bring you what you requested.”

Without turning, Arianrhod replied, “Thank you, Lyrael. Please leave it on my desk.”

Lyrael did as she was told. “Anything for you, your highness,” she said before she left.

Arianrhod retreated into her chamber and walked towards her desk. Atop it was the delicate vase made of celestial glass; transparent and with silver patterns etched on its surface.

She held a hand over the vase. “By the cycles of the moon and stars, by the turning of the Silver Wheel,” she chanted softly. It glowed with a soft, silver light.

She envisioned a barrier of time and space, a temporal cloak that would prevent it from revealing her realm’s location.

She carefully placed the flower into the vase. “Let this flower thrive within this vessel nourished by the essence of the night,” she continued. “May it remain alive, hidden from those who seek it.”

The glow intensified for a moment as the enchantment took hold. The vase now emitted a faint light, soothing the goddess off her concerns.

Arianrhod went out of her chambers to her throne, the Chamber of Destinies, and the Stellar Observatory. She did her routines, as she did so for thousands of years.

The only thing different was that she now had more things to tell her confidant. She told her about The Dreaming and everything that took place. Especially Dream’s proposal and the conditions she imposed.

Lyrael has seen the queen through the years, beginning when Arianrhod permanently resided in her cosmic domain. So many has changed since then.

Arianrhod was once consumed by vengeance, prideful and arrogant, a dictator of fate. And now, she is a goddess calm and collected, and in every way, majestic.

The one thing that didn’t change was her propensity to challenge. The difficult tasks and conditions were tests of character and worthiness. She had all the right to set standards high for herself and others.

A few full moons later, Arianrhod sat in the Time Vault, immersed in a book about the oceans—the gods and their domain in the depths. Its cover is embossed with designs of waves.

The pages painted a world of boundless water, full of life and full of mystery. Each word drew her deeper like the song of a siren enticing a man. She knew exactly what that sounded like. She lived on a coast, but that was eons ego.

For one thing, what she loved about the world was its seas.

The rhythmic descriptions of the waves and tides pulled and pushed by the moon created a soothing, almost hypnotic effect. Arianrhod’s eyelids grew heavy as her nostalgia intensified. Her mind drifted between the words on the page and her own memories.

Her eyes closed, and the book fell on the table with a soft thud. With the same thud, she opened her eyes into The Dreaming.

Her head lay sideways on a table. In front of her was a book she had never seen before. Gone was the one she was reading earlier.

Slowly, she sat up. There were unfamiliar books and scrolls scattered across the wooden desk. The enchanting scent of paper accompanied her with every breath she took.

A figure approached her, their presence calm and reassuring. “Welcome to The Dreaming’s library, Lady Star,” she said with a gentle smile. “I am Lucienne, the librarian. Lord Morpheus has been expecting you.”

What Lucienne didn’t say was that Morpheus was expecting to see the goddess every day; that he was so diligent in taking out his potted flower every night to be bathed in starlight, and making sure to take it back inside before the sun rose.

Lucienne found out about her lord’s little obsession the moment she caught him staring at the memory of Arianrhod’s face on the tinted glass. Morpheus had always been quick to change it before she could even see it, but not all day is his lucky day.

“My lord,” she called, clearing her throat. “May I ask what has captured your attention with the lady on the glass?”

She felt a little celebratory inside as she finally found out what had Morpheus preoccupied on the glass panes at least once per day.

Morpheus turned slightly, his expression unreadable, but his eyes held a hint of something else—one Lucienne hadn’t seen in a while.

“I was merely thinking of the goddess Arianrhod,” Morpheus answered. “She intrigues me greatly.”

Lucienne approached, getting a clearer picture of the goddess. “The goddess of time and cycles,” she said as her knowledge about the goddess surfaced. “What is about her that you find so captivating, my lord?”

Morpheus sighed, his voice soft and contemplative. “There is a sense of mystery in her,” he answered. “A depth that I have only begun to glimpse.”

A slight smile touched his lips. “Her past is shrouded in shadows, her emotions guarded, and her motives often hidden,” he continued, remembering how Death didn’t even have the answers he sought. “I wish to understand her, to uncover the layers of her existence.”

Lucienne nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Do you intend to pursue this interest further, my lord?” She asked.

Morpheus turned to fully face Lucienne, a rare smile gracing his lips. “Perhaps,” he answered. “There is much I wish to show her—about The Dreaming and me. She has set her conditions, and I intend to fulfill them.”

Lucienne’s eyes softened. “Then I shall do my utmost to assist you in this endeavor, my lord,” she said.

At that moment, she knew—Morpheus’s journey to win Arianrhod’s heart had begun, and he was determined to succeed.

At the present, Arianrhod returned Lucienne’s smile, feeling an immediate sense of trust in the librarian.

“Thank you, Lucienne,” she said. Her eyes looked around to see the countless books neatly organized on the massive shelves. “This library is magnificent.”

Lucienne was delighted. “It holds the dreams and stories of countless beings,” she replied. “But come, I shall take you to Lord Morpheus.”

Arianrhod nodded as she pushed herself off the chair. She followed Lucienne through the library, their footsteps echoing softly on the floor.

Not long after, they arrived at a grand set of double doors. Lucienne pushed it open, revealing the throne room of The Dreaming. It was vast with high ceilings and walls.

At the far end sat Morpheus on his dark, imposing throne. His presence was both regal and enigmatic.

Morpheus rose from his throne upon Arianrhod’s entrance. He stepped down the flight of stairs, his cloak billowing slightly behind him.

“Lady Star,” he greeted, his voice deep and resonant. “Welcome to the heart of The Dreaming. I trust Lucienne has been a gracious guide.”

Arianrhod nodded. “Thank you, Dream,” she said. “Your realm is truly extraordinary.”

Morpheus was now standing close in front of Arianrhod. Lucienne took this as a cue to leave the two alone. She gave a small bow before exiting the throne room.

“There is much more to see,” Morpheus said. “Allow me to show you the true depths of The Dreaming.”

He held his hand out to which Arianrhod gladly accepted. Morpheus gently pulled her close yet caused her to bump into his chest. His other hand found its way to the small of her back.

“Hold tight, my queen,” he said. Arianrhod was flustered but before she could even react, sand swirled up and around them. The next thing she knew, they were outside on a path in what seemed like a forest.

Due to the close proximity, Morpheus could feel Arianrhod’s increased heartbeat. He let go but carefully guided her hand onto his arm. They began to walk, following the path in front of them.

“We are near the House of Mysteries and Secrets,” he said, his voice a soothing presence. “The abode of Cain and Abel, the—“

“The first murderer and the first victim,” Arianrhod finished. Morpheus looked at her, stunned. “An interesting choice of residents,” she continued. “What role do they play here?”

“They guard the two houses: the House of Mystery and the House of Secrets,” Morpheus explained. “Each has its peculiarities, and together they hold many tales within The Dreaming.”

As they approached, Arianrhod could see two distinct houses standing side by side. The House of Mystery was a little gothic, dark, and foreboding while the House of Secrets was a somewhat dilapidated Victorian structure.

The houses were situated in the middle of a lake. There was a short bridge that connected the small island to the rest of The Dreaming.

Cain, with his stern demeanor, greeted them at the entrance on the other side of the bridge. Abel, much softer and gentler, followed closely behind, his demeanor more welcoming but cautious.

“Welcome, my lord,” Cain said, inclining his head respectfully. “And to your guest, Lady Star, I extend my greetings.”

Morpheus glanced down beside him at Arianrhod who was delighted to be known by Cain and Abel. He felt her hands squeeze his arm.

He made a reminder in his head to thank Lucienne later. She was the one who arranged the order of how Morpheus could show The Dreaming to Arianrhod. She was also the one who briefed Cain and Abel about the goddess.

“Thank you, Cain,” Arianrhod replied with a smile.

Abel stepped forward, a timid smile on his face. “We are the keepers of the mysteries and secrets within The Dreaming, my lady,” he said. “Each house holds tales that span beyond imagination.”

Morpheus gestured toward the House of Mystery, “Shall we begin with Cain’s domain?” Arianrhod nodded in response.

As they entered the House of Mystery, the air grew dark and thick with the weight of hidden truths. Cain led the way, his voice steady as he explained.

“Here, you will find the dark tales, ones unfathomable by simple understanding,” he said. “This house is a repository for the inexplicable, the eerie, and the foreboding.”

Morpheus watched Arianrhod with a faint smile. Her eyes roamed over the walls, her fingers brushing lightly upon the things Cain showed her.

“The Dreaming is a place where all stories, no matter how dark or obscure, find a home,” Morpheus said.

Their tour continued into the House of Secrets. Abel led them inside, his manner gentle. “The House of Secrets,” he said softly. “Is a sanctuary for those tales that require a delicate touch.”

As they moved from one room to the other, Arianrhod noticed the changes in the corridor where they came from. Confused, she looked up at Morpheus.

“The house changes periodically,” Morpheus explained. “The rooms shift, and one never enters the same room twice.”

As they made their way outside, Arianrhod heard shuffling nearby. She looked side to side in search of the noise.

“There’s another one I’d like you to meet,” Morpheus said. “It’s like a creature of sorts who lives in this domain.”

Arianrhod raised her brows in response, urging Morpheus to continue. All of a sudden, she heard a loud thud. Looking up, she saw a figure perched upon the roof. Her jaw unknowingly dropped at the sight.

It was a gargoyle, big and majestic, its wings folded neatly against his back. Despite its fearsome appearance, which can be likened to Cain’s demeanor, there was gentleness in its eyes, like Abel’s.

“This is Gregory,” Morpheus said. Gregory leaped from his perch, landing before them with a loud thud.

Arianrhod gasped, and instead of clinging to Morpheus, she let go. She stepped forward, her eyes twinkling as she approached Gregory.

“Hi,” she said softly. She gently reached her hand out and waited for the gargoyle to be the one to come in contact.

Gregory leaned forward to sniff her hand. She then gently placed her hand on his head, feeling his stone skin.

“Aren’t you adorable?” Arianrhod cooed, stroking his head. Gregory leaned into her touch, a deep and contented rumble coming out from him, like that of a purring cat.

“Gregory seems to like you, Lady Star,” Cain said. “He doesn’t take to strangers often.”

After a few more moments of petting, Arianrhod gave Gregory a final pat on the head before standing back.

She walked towards Morpheus. “Thank you for bringing me to meet them,” she said. She looked back at the brothers and the gargoyle, with a gentle smile on her face.

Cain and Abel nodded their farewells. Soon, Arianrhod and Morpheus headed back into the forest from which they came from. As they disappeared from view, Cain turned to his brother.

“What do you make of her, Abel?” He asked.

Abel, who was now petting Gregory, replied, “She’s kind. Not many show such gentle respect to Gregory.”

Gregory rumbled softly, as if in agreement. Cain reached out to pat its head. “Gregory approves of her, which speaks volumes,” he said. “He is a good judge of character.”

“Will she be the queen of The Dreaming?” Abel asked. “I hope she brings Lord Morpheus some measure of peace—he carries many burdens.”

Cain clapped his brother on the shoulder, a rare gesture. “Only time will tell, Abel,” he replied. “For now, we can only watch and wait.”

As both Morpheus and Arianrhod felt her tug of consciousness, the two stopped in their tracks. Arianrhod turned to face Morpheus.

“Thank you, Dream,” she said. In her chest, she feels a wave of awe washes over her heart.

Morpheus nodded, his eyes softening. “This is only the beginning, Star,” he replied.

Arianrhod smiled, “I look forward to it, then.”

As the dream began to fade, Morpheus reached out and gently placed another one of the flower he gave before in her hand.

“A token to remind you of this journey,” he said softly.

——————————————————————————

If you'd like to be added to my taglist for updates on this fanfic, just comment below!

@poemfreak306

[vesselsscarlet]

Please read.

Its important:

Alright.

I didn't want to do this but... here we are now.

We need to talk.

About the project. A serious talk.

This is my perspective, and I am pretty certain Crow signs it as well.

Crow sent me in the last few days the asks they received, just because they are transparent and they also hold me accountable enough as the second-in-charge. (Thanks boo, for also letting me answer things, or re-reading your answers if I wanted to add something)

And I must admit, it made me very upset.

Not directly at the anon*s, asking, but the entire situation made me.

I can totally understand if you want things to be perfect, it is totally fine if you are still handing them in, we seriously couldn't care less.

I can also understand fully if you haven't heard from the project until Crow was posting the reminders, using the tag.

But-

We didn't want to push things. And maybe we should have done that.

The only problem that was in the way is called

LIFE.

Yes, it may seem simple. But trust me.

Working on this project together and still having a distance from at least 4 hours of a train ride between us, plus having things going on in our lives didn't make it easier.

That's why we asked for checking out the tag regularily, especially if you haven't seen any updates yet.

Maybe we should have pinned something about this project, maybe it just vanished deep inside in the Tumblr lore.

But, ...

I participated in the Epistolary Collection project, and I could submit my letter. And I could make it because I had a deadline for myself. I added it in my phone calendar, so I wouldn't forget it.

And so would I for this project since it really means a lot to me.

But obviously, I have got a bit of more time.

We didn't want to pressure you with the reminders.

But after receiving not that many submissions via. E-Mail, Tumblr and none via. Discord, we decided to remind you.

And then receiving asks about this whole situation with little participation etc., ... trying to find reasons why it could be like that... stung me. (If any of the anon*s is seeing this, I am not mad at you, I am just frustrated and tired)

We felt like our project isn't valuable, that it isn't enough.

But this project came to life while I was living in London for my stay abroad, and now I cannot do anything but post this words here because I am busy with university and private circumstances.

We were sure that not everyone would actually participate or would be able to do so, but the result is making us sad.

We wanted to make it happen because of YOU.

Because we know that Sleep Token and especially Vessel connects US.

But please...

Why are you asking us why we didn't get submissions? Was it because of another project?

Hell, we announced this project in December, we tried to keep you updated in our best way possible.

Just because we didn't want to go on Instagram for it? Seriously?

We don't have any of a big appearance on Instagram, and I also don't like the fact of you seeing my personal account with pictures of me included.

I want to stay anonymous here, when it comes to showing myself.

Guys, you have no idea how hard it is to manage something big like this from two cities around the world, while being so limited in actions. Was it too much to ask to check regularily the tag? That's all we asked for. And we cannot run after you like little puppies, calling you by your names and asking "Can you please submit stuff now, pretty please."

The advice on checking the tag regularily was the only option we had, so you could read everything that was posted in it. Any update we had was posted in there. And if there still were questions you could have asked us privately or via. the ask tool. We just wanted to let you guys doing stuff. But please... why are you blaming us (more or less) for people simply forgetting it? There could have been ways where it would have been possible to get the updates. Like... adding yourself a reminder once a month, checking the tag out if you have missed something (I am just doodling ideas because that would have been me if I wasn't the co-leader of this project. It's not calling you out and telling you what to do and what not.)

You all are old enough to be in charge of doing something.

But we can just say...

We are sad. Very sad.

Because our project might be not come to live. Perhaps not for these upcoming rituals at least.

How on earth is it possible that after setting things straight, people tend to submit things?

As I said... if you didn't hear about the project first, if you simply forgot about it, if you were busy... that's fine.

But stop asking us why it was the case.

It is making us angry and upset.

We wish we could tell you why it was and still is the case.

But we can't. We have to accept it.

However...

Thank you to everyone so far, who has participated so far, we are eternally grateful that you want to share your stuff and maybe also intimate/personal words with us.

Your words for Vessel are gently appreciated and your kind soul will be blessed.

Thank you for reading this.

– Lia (and Crow @aquareegia )

[cloudyswritings]

Vessel biology: Uh, I forgot what number we’re on…

The return of this BS.

Vessels all tend to have pretty poor eyesight as a baseline, and it does tend to get worse over time(based on the white lady losing her sight and the Wyrm being, you know, blind). Anyway this kinda works with how we as the player hit everything with our nail, I could easily see vessels doing this as a way to feel out the world around them.

The cloaks most vessels have are a mixture of leaves and wings, they grow at a steady rate before reaching a max length and will regrow if damaged sufficiently. Most of these wing-leaf-cloaks are either too fragile to get a vessel into the air, or can’t hold their weight once they’re up there. Broken vessel probably could fly though, and does get some decent air time in their fight.

Overexposure to void after hatching can destabilize the physical form of a vessel and make it more mold able. I headcanon this might be at least partially how the sharp shadow charm works

The vessels all inherited some of the pale kings memories through genetic memory, but specifically the vast majority got his desire to see the radiance killed/contained. It’s part of what drew them back to Hallownest after escaping.

when they get hit/damaged their shells can crack letting out a “scream” of silence, this actually happens in game, it’s why sound gets muted when you take damage. It’s also the closest any vessel gets to a voice to cry suffering.

Despite being fragile from a godly/higher being standpoint vessels are tougher than most mortals, surviving things like direct hits from oomas and the likes of Grimm.

Their sense of touch might function like a sense of taste as well, this comes from their mother who can “taste” the soil and surrounding environment to see if it’s suitable for growth. This works well with the idea that their body is semi permeable due to being mostly void.

If you somehow removed the void from a vessel(by killing them) you’d be left with their mask and an extremely thin completely transparent carapace that in life got much of its strength from the pressure of the void within it. It’d be roughly like a plastic bag in texture.

Given time and enough damage, you could prompt a vessel to metamorphose into either a root or a wyrm, or possibly some fucked up hybrid of the two. They’d still be a vessel and have a shade. Imagine mortals banding together and killing a wyrm just for its shade to spring from the corpse and attack them…

Vessels that can actually see tend to see in a broad spectrum ranging all the way from very low band infrared to X and gamma rays, what exactly he world would look like to them is anyone’s guess.

Most vessels still have vestigial internal organs, though what they look like varies from vessel to vessel. I think ghost probably has a stomach, and functional lungs(albeit ones that don’t actually breathe anything in). All vessels have a core/heart that most of their void is bound around and passes through.

[oneshotnewbie]

Y/n has problems with her stomach once in a while but now they're back. Maya notices it first and Y/n wants Maya to nit tell Carina because she will go feral but she notices it soon when Carina sees her girlfriend getting pale while working in the ER (or somewhere in the hospital) and Carina has a consil there

---

Maya was about to toss the individual ingredients of her smoothie into the blender when she heard quick footsteps, followed by a shadow of a figure before loud gagging and coughing from the bathroom interrupted the morning silence. "Y/n?"

When she only heard agonizing noises instead of your voice, her body tensed up and let go of the transparent vessel before her upper body pushed back from the counter she was standing at. She sprinted in the direction you had been heading before and stopped at the door frame to survey the situation unfolding in front of her.

You sat huddled in front of the toilet, one hand wrapped around the seat while the other was laying flat on your stomach. Since yesterday evening you felt nauseous but tried to get over it and suppress the feeling of throwing up; you wanted to at least try to hold out until your girlfriends were out of the house so they wouldn´t know you weren´t feeling well.

But you couldn´t achieve the goal you had set for yourself and it happened in front of the blonde´s eyes. You felt a warm hand gently on your spine, massaging it with light movements while a grip on your hair became noticeable and the annoying strands were removed from your face. "It´s okay. Let it out, babe."

A rush of nausea overcame you again and you shook your head as you cleared yourself of the acid and the spit that came out. The comforting warmth left your back for a split second as you heard the sink turn on. Your shaky hand left your stomach and placed itself on the flush before you cleared your throat and managed to finally pull away from the toilet only to see Maya kneeling next to you, cloth in hand and a soft but concerned look in her eyes.

"Take a deep breath." she whispered, gently taking your chin up to wipe the corner of your lips. You didn´t even realized you had problems giving your lungs the needed air before you took a breath and you felt the cold air tingling in your chest. "Is it your stomach again?"

You nodded gently so as not to increase the slight dizziness before turning away from her and walking to the sink to rinse your mouth with water and splash some of it in your face. She leaned her lower back against the sink you were standing at and lovingly handed you the dry towel.

"Please do not tell Carina, she´ll go crazy." you breathed in a hoarse voice, glancing nervously at her over the mirror. But you only got a soft sigh in response and a subsequent gesture she always did when she was concerned; she rested her hand on her forehead and shook her head. "Then how are you going to explain to her why you´re not showing up to work today?"

"I won´t have to tell her because I´m going."

---

The strong nauseating feeling was still looming as if it were walking right behind you. You were still dizzy, like everything was spinning around you but you still managed to get through half of your workday without throwing up again.

Now you only had to endure another four hours.

In the elevator down to the emergency room, you leaned against the cool wall and closed your eyes for a moment. A moment too long- when the usual elevator made the sound as it stopped at the desired floor, you startled and walked out with quick steps.

Lost in thought, you ran unnoticed into a nurse who dropped all the documents she was holding, on the floor. Apologetically you knelt down and helped her put the individual papers back in the files, jumping up a short time later.

As a result, you became so dizzy that you had to cling to the wall next to you.

"Tell me, bella, are you alright?" Carina asked you from the side and put a hand on your shoulder; lightly squeezing it. You carefully turned your head in the direction her voice was coming from and a soft smile greeted you as she looked at you with concern.

"I am doing great." You answer her question and push yourself off the wall. Unfortunately, you felt a bit unsteady on your feet, so the brunette had to hold you tight.

She raised her eyebrows sharply. "Honestly, you don´t look all right to me." she remarked, frowning and looking worried at your otherwise lively figure. The Italian woman put her hand on your forehead, but before she could feel your temperature, you turned your head to the side. "I´m not sick, Carina. Just a little worn-out."

The brunette crossed her arms and bit her lip. She could see and feel that you weren´t feeling well and that you were a different person, she had known you too long and too well for that. Also a blonde birdie texted her and told her what happened this morning- she just didn´t understood why you were trying to cover up your apparent state of health.

"Come puoi essere così testardo?" (How can you be so stubborn?)

You rolled your eyes at this saying, did you know exactly what this meant; you had heard it flow out of her mouth often enough. With a big sigh, you felt defeated and you leaned on her shoulder. "Will you bring me home?" you asked a bit pitifully, your vision still severely limited.

"Of course, bambina." she put and arm around you thoughtfully and slowly began to walk with you. "But first let´s have Bailey examine your stomach thoroughly."

[spoiledleaff]

leaaaaffffyyy !! it’s taken me much too long to decide on a prompt to send you, but i think i’ve finally decided on one !!

so, if you’re still writing for the inexperienced smut prompts, may i please request a little something with prompts 24 and 29 for dew/mist ? (i’ve become borderline addicted to the way you write their dynamic)

-💙💍

feliiiiiiiiix, my little british texan beloved, haha!! >:3c oh my goodness, of course i'd love to write some more dew/mist?? i adore them also, it's always lovely to be reminded i'm not the only water ghoul slut, haha! 💚

explicit ✿ cw ; mentions of tentacle dicks ✿ ftm he/him dew + intersex she/her mist ✿ wc ; 1.3k. terminology for dew includes ; clit + pussy/cunt + folds ✿ terminology for mist is honestly just a little bit of everything. dewdrop has a pre-transition body.

Despite the way that Mist is circling his defenseless form — naked and chilled from where he's left kneeling on the slab of altar, the only thing protecting his most intimate parts from the unwanted eye being a thin black sheet: satin — Dewdrop doesn't feel like prey.

There's determination coursing through his veins, hot and heavy in a way that makes the younger ghoul break out into a cold sweat; he wants to see this through.

"Take my virginity," he had asked, steeling himself in an effort to seem strong and more confident than he felt, "make me yours. Please."

To his childish glee — to his deep surprise — Mist had agreed with a cock of her head, a sharp-toothed grin, and a comment about how polite the little sin was and how adorable he looks begging.

(And how much cuter he'd be dropped to his knees.)

Now, on his knees and bare on some older altar that Mist had cornered the smaller ghoul against Lucifer knows how long ago, Dewdrop still doesn't feel like prey. The sharp barbs that decorate Mist's long tail flutter as she continues to circle him.

They're poisonous, Dewdrop knows, but they also glow softly in the dim light of the godforsaken ritual room they've found themselves in; it's a softly yellow glow, reflecting orange against the red and darker red colored furniture and objects. Dewdrop thinks it's cute despite it all.

Mist pauses, cocks her head again and laughs. Dewdrop realizes he must've said that aloud.

(He's still getting used to these new human vocal chords. They chime in at the strangest of moments.)

"You're adorable," Mist purrs, choosing that moment to slink her way on to Dewdrop's little altar slab.

Dewdrop chirps as he watches the way Mist's fins and gills flutter against the force of invisible wind. They're a beautiful color: partially transparent and sheer from where the membranes are loosely stretched between those predatory barbs of her. Her short hair tickles Dewdrop's nose, moon kissed curls kissing the outer curves of Dewdrop's nostrils. He thinks he might sneeze, realizes how unsexy that must be, holds it in before sneezing anyways. The sound echoes loudly against the low ceiling, but Mist's eyes twinkle fondly at Dewdrop's look of sheer confusion as to how his vessel could betray him at such a time.

"Sorry." Dewdrop shrinks into himself, his own vibrantly colored fins shudder with his embarrassment.

"Don't be." Mist sighs, dipping her head to nuzzle her tall horns against Dewdrop's. They rub together harshly, but, unlike Dewdrop's sneeze, the sound doesn't grate against his ears. "I never knew you could make such cute little noises."

"Me neither." Dewdrop pouts, turns away but ends up knocking his horns against Mist's, keeping them close. "Do all human bodies make such weird noises?"

"Well..." Mist chuckles quietly underneath her breath, taking a moment to untangle the curves of their respective horns from each other. "Everyone sneezes, but it's all a different sound depending on the vessel. Your's just so happens to sound like a newborn kitten."

(Mist places her hand over the clammy meat of Dewdrop's thigh, and the younger sin has to suppress another equally embarrassing noise at the cold touch.)

"A-ah." Shit. That's not exactly the voice of a ghoul who's more than proud in their current levels of confidence.

Mist's purr grows deeper — more mischievous — as those painted nails trace symbols through Dewdrop's skin, growing closer and closer to where those thighs are squeezed together tight.

"My naïve little pearl," Mist smiles and Dewdrop's never noticed that charming yellow tint to her fangs before, "oh, how you make me feel young again."

The safety blanket that was once the thin satin draped across Dewdrop's lap is delicately tugged away by pretty hands. Dewdrop can smell the musk of Mist's arousal, wants to somehow tattoo it into his nostrils, his lungs. The older ghoul hoists herself forward, her naked form now lays beside him, and Dewdrop can see the heavy weight of her cock trapped between her beautifully slick thighs.

(Idly, Dewdrop wonders if her slick is poisonous — if her scent is an aphrodisiac — because he suddenly wants to drown in her presence and her love. And what water ghoul wishes to drown?)

He gulps, and Dewdrop wonders if that sound too echoes off the basement walls. Mist's eyelashes flutter against the high arches of her cheeks, small bioluminescent freckles decorating the dark skin. She's flowing — she's fucking glowing — and Dewdrop wonders if it's a sign of beloved blasphemy or deceiving divinity. Quickly, he decides he doesn't care.

"Can't wait to make you mine, little droplet." She sighs against his temple, the curves of her breasts brush against Dewdrop's clavicle. The weight of her palm pushes against his hipbone; her touch is cold, and Dewdrop would rather freeze than be apart from the sin laid bare before him.

Mist uncrosses her legs and moves to straddle Dewdrop's knees, her nipples brushing over his cheek as she moves. Her flushed erection bounces free from the confines of her thighs, and Dewdrop just barely manages to catch a glimpse of the meat of her folds from behind the sheath of her cock. It curves deliciously towards her pierced naval, the veins are engorged along the underside of the tentacle. Her cock is flushed a deep purple, the skin of her sheath wrinkles slightly around the opening, stretching to accommodate the sheer mass of her erection.

Dewdrop's drooling; he can feel the way his clit throbs at the sight of Mist's dick, the way his virgin pussy clenches around nothing.

"Is that for me?" He finds the courage to ask, wide eyes staring at the dark, sticky fluid leaking from the tip of Mist's tentacle. His thighs squeeze tighter, and Mist notices with a soft smile.

"Of course, sweetheart." She purrs, smooth as wine down Dewdrop's throat. Her free hand reaches up to grope gently at Dewdrop's breasts, squeezing at his nipples and pulling mercifully. The younger ghoul melts in her cold touch, keening softly at the way she loves him. "I'm going to slide my cock inside that tight, aching cunt of yours, and I'm going to love you thoroughly from the inside out."

Dewdrop shudders, his chest bouncing softly in Mist's palm. She finds it cute, she tells him with that charming smile.

"Oh, fuck." Dewdrop shifts his weight, parting his thighs just enough for Mist's hand to slip in, touches him.

"That's the plan, Dewey." Mist chirps, and Dewdrop finds enough sass in his brain to tap his forehead against hers; he watches as Mist's cock bounces against her stomach, inky black smearing over the aquamarine jewels of her piercing. "I'm going to ruin your vessel's virginity, and I'm not going to stop until I've ravaged you with my love and worship."

"W-worship?" Dewdrop mewls as Mist's fingers tug on his clit, spreading his folds despite the semi-awkward angle. She leans in, kisses his cheek.

"Worship." She repeats with another smile, and the younger sin can feel the grooves of her teeth against his skin. "There's a reason I trapped you against an altar, little pearl."

Dewdrop groans, leans away from Mist's touch before gently pushing his palms to her sternum and chest, pushing her and guiding her down. They switch positions — Mist allows it with half lidded eyes and a crooked grin — and Dewdrop wastes no time in straddling her lap, eyeing the sight of her flushed tentacle with glazed eyes. He leans forward, and Mist's reach up to gently grip at the little ghoul's waist. Dewdrop's pushing fingers into his own sopping wet cunt without much thought, his hand roughly sliding over Mist's sternum to grip at her breast. Her cock now trapped inside the junction of Dewdrop's thigh, the tapered head grazing Dewdrop's heavy shaft.

"Wanna- I wanna touch you too," he gasps, breathless as he drowns, "wanna show you how I worship, Mist."

[leon-swedfinqs]

The last time he was in the ether, his body, his vessel, felt so far away. Surrounded by the screams of townsfolk and the flames of torches.

But here, there was a wall. A thick wall of glass that echoed whenever he knocked. No reflection, no diffraction, just a transparent wall that kept him a distance away from what grounded him.

He couldn’t quite remember how he got here, but the tear tracks on his face were still fresh and his ears buzzed like a choir of bells. Everything seemed just a little too bright on all sides.

But above him, was a night sky. Beautiful and calming in its nature. He could clearly see the constellation of the snake and the snake tamer, protecting him. Watching.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed. The ether felt quiet, empty, lonely. The last time he had entered this realm there was a blazing temperate presence, the golden flame of his partner trapped.

He sat down, leaning against the glass, gazing up at the stars.

The night’s lights seemed to shift and twirl, descending closer to him like a dandelion seed in the wind. He sat, enthralled, as a shape formed and kneeled in front of him, gently reaching out.

As the stars grazed his face, Aziraphale felt himself shiver. Closing his eyes he kept his head held high, his body rigid. The warmth of the stars drew closer and closer.

A gentle kiss grazed his lips, and a thumb ran across his cheek.

Aziraphale couldn’t explain why he started crying. The touch was gentle and brief, but oh so warm and bright and inviting. Opening his eyes, Aziraphale was faced with the zodiac ophiuchus, the stars collecting back into the two shakes he was holding.

Across two kingdoms, Crowley fell back, his eyes up at his stars. The sadness and confusion and otherworldliness came off of Aziraphale in waves, it felt like. The briefest touch told him everything.

Aziraphale didn’t see anything from the stars for a while. He would occasionally stare up, watching them twinkle and fly as he thought of Crowley, of the others, of his home. His body felt light, and the more time passed the lighter it got.

The body was resting, he could tell. Standing guard, possibly. Listening to orders, most likely. Aziraphale sighed as he held up his hand, watching the lights shimmer through it.

How long it’s been, he didn’t know. His ears still buzzed and light was burned behind his eyes. But he couldn’t find himself to truly slumber.

The stars above him shifted again. One of the snakes from ophiuchus’s hand hissed and swirled, before carefully descending and slinking around Aziraphale’s tired form. The snake nudged the man with its head in a gentle, friendly manner. Aziraphale sighed and stroked between its eyes.

“Come find me, my love” he felt his mouth say.

“He’s dreaming of him,” his ears told him with a delighted laugh.

He didn’t often pray, at least, not anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to, not after the night that he blinked from a daze, hands covered in blood, arms covered in cuts, and his partner in distress as he held up his face and sobbed “please” as if he was begging.

He prayed to the stars, every now and then. He hoped he listened. He hoped that he could hear. He had faith that, maybe, the connection was enough for him to be beckoned to answer.

The first time he felt another presence in the ether, it was hot and bright and full of distress.

The second time he felt another presence in the ether, it was hot and bright and full of determination.

The flame was on the other side of the glass wall, it’s body tall and angry, shouting words he could not hear.

Aziraphale sat back and softly smiled as he watched. He watched as the flame threw hits and slashes at the glass, over and over again. It kept hitting and trying again and again, each blow in an attempt to slowly chip the Crystal away.

It seemed the flame was getting desperate as it stepped back.

It made direct eye contact with Aziraphale, its light sinking into what’s left of his soul.

The flame got brighter and brighter. The Serpens hissed and sang above in the twilight sky.

A blast. A tug. A pull.

The glass shattered into crystal shards just as the ringing in his ears suddenly popped and cleared, the light behind his eyes became dull, and his body felt whole.

Enveloped in a kiss by the bright flame, his flame, the gentle twing of metal against stone met his ears as he felt lighter than he ever has since he was a child, before then, all those years ago.

[godblackbones15]

Women as Vessels of Consciousness 💦🏺

When seeking to compare men & women in regards to strengths, often times the power of a woman is only measured insofar that unconsciously, a person questions whether the female possesses a strong ability to imitate or succeed at male activities. Why should we define a powerful female by her ability to outdo a man at being a man? To do so is to sacrifice what she unquestionably has: the elusive and mysterious feminine principle. The true power of the feminine doesn’t lie in the controlled words as does the male principle, but in the unspoken, and in the silence that holds these words. It doesn’t lie in the physical strength of one’s bodily force and assertion, but in the graceful flexibility to absorb & envelop that which asserts. Her strengths remain unlisted, indescribable, so shadowy that they remain unsaid, demonized, & feared. To need to outwardly consider a woman’s grasp of male traits to determine her strength— like asking if inward or outward is superior, if right or left is superior, if up or down is superior— indicates that you can’t perceive the subtlety of the power of women and how it is obtained, and so there is no hope for you in accessing it anyway. The power of masculinity is in that which is straightforward, transparent, brought out in the open, and logically articulated; whereas with femininity, everything is indirect, hidden, and accessible only through intuition.

It is often said by certain occultists that "good things" only radiate, while "evil things" attempt to restrict or drain sources of energy, the former being male and the latter being female. This is of course, a dualistic notion, as although the restrictive and consuming cause death, destruction, limitation, and have innate vampiric or parasitic qualities, the "evil" aspect of reality is necessary to condense and crystalize energy and give something form. In its most mundane sense, this obviously is employed when she crystalizes a soul into matter by giving birth to a baby. Just as her Yoni can be used to trap a soul into matter and a body, if employed through proper sexual techniques, it can also be used to free a soul and consciousness from matter, and allow a person to transcend it— through the nourishing “Full Moon” light that guides us towards beauty & truth in a gentle manner. It is all a matter of how it is employed and the knowledge of the individual in question. A woman, because of her innate ability to absorb and crystalize consciousness, has the power to be a reservoir and repository of consciousness that she absorbs, which is solar in nature.

~ Claire Nakti ⚘️

[beastswithoutburdencomic]

transmutation as legitimate life trajectory: exposing implicit biases of the Wardview Hunters’ Guild

The recent bulletin posted by the Hunters’ Guild is perhaps the most transparent attempt at fearmongering which has been penned in recent months. If one were to believe the Guild, they would have no choice but to come to the conclusion that there is an epidemic of irresponsible witches roaming the streets of Wardview, transmuting any innocent bystander into something which is not human.

According to the Guild, there is no possible reason that citizens would choose transmutation; it is only the choice made by someone unsound of mind and/or under extreme duress. 

Never mind the fact that there are historical documents dating as far back as the 1100s detailing how humans have chosen to shed their humanity.

In the European stage there were stories dating back to the time of Arthurian legends of individuals choosing to ‘Melion’ themselves, roaming the countryside as wolves for rites of passage; the Northern Song dynasty saw nobles choosing to live as birds to better understand how to transform the harmony of nature to the balance of the state; and the Oyo Empire saw the possibility of one of its alaafins turning into a spirit of lightning and flame (Murky Waters: The Line Between History and Mythological Heroes, Adeoye et al., 2021) . 

Even if one disregards these accounts as mere fiction, one cannot disregard the myriad of memoirs penned either by the transmuted or someone recording the oration of the transmuted.

 In Lenora Pavarichi’s Memoirs of a Wine Barrel, the transmuted, one formerly known as Theodori Medici, purportedly used the different flows of the wine inside its body to give voice to its new life experience (1548). Medici describes the religious devotion that led him to shed his humanity. “I have attained a state which the friars only dream,” stated the wine barrel, “It is a beautiful hollowing of vessel and self; the soul transcends where the hallowed shell remains. I know what Christ desired in asking the Apostles to drink of Him.”

Religious fervor is far from the sole reason for transmutation. There have been countless stories where runaways saw transmutation as a way to escape. While most stories end with the runaway choosing to return to human form, others, such as the account told by Maria Santos Primavera, has the runaway choosing to remain as something other than human (Harpy Tails: the History of Girls’ Flight from Life in the Abbey, Magboo, 2008). Primavera describes how the tawitawi doves were the sole familiar thing she saw when sent to live as a nun. “It was like a sign from home- one saying, come back, come see us, we will be as you left us.” (Harpy Tails, 2008). 

While the hand of Spanish colonialism would, in effect, change everything, Primavera’s transmutation into a harpy bearing resemblance to her beloved tawitawi allowed her to hold onto a piece of her home. This is perhaps the most prevalent reason why humans have chosen to become something “Other” throughout the ages; searching for a sense of purpose, of belonging, and of home. 

Is it any surprise, then, that there is an entire romance subgenre in circles within the Know where one lover changes their species to be with their love interest? One only needs to look at the local bookstore to find Leticia G. Smith’s Dram of Whiskey, a wildly popular historical romance set in the Jazz Age. It is a book where the protagonist, Ruthie Jean, must choose between continuing to make music in an industry that won’t recognize her talent or run away with her lover, known only as ‘Blue’, into the waters of the Mississippi as a riverdram. Considering the content of the rest of the article, you can imagine what Ruthie Jean’s ultimate decision is. This novel is itself one of Smith’s best selling works, outsold only by the academic reports of her cousins.

Transmutation for love isn’t solely in the bounds of fiction, however. If the Hunter’s Guild would only look back over its own interview logs, it would see that at least one of the recent transmutations- one only identifying himself as 化茧 (Hua Jian), and one identifying herself as 成蝶 (Cheng Die), both apparently speaking under the condition of anonymity- has done so specifically for this reason. After both consented to be transmuted into faeries, their testimony was given through the medium of flight pattern, spelling out the story of their families’ refusal to allow them to see each other. Rather than continue on in human society, they decided to take the plunge into transmutation together. Though they sometimes watch over their old human families from afar, both have expressed happiness in their choice. “Being in this [butterfly-esque] form is pretty much like a dream- now we can fill our days with each other.” (“Butterfly Dancers”, Wardview Review, May 202X).

I ask: where is the epidemic that the Hunters’ Guild is stirring moral panic over? By their own admission, all 23 of the suspected ‘forced transmutations’ have no curse placed on them to remain silent. No wizard has found evidence of magic tampering with their thought process. All 23 interviewed have spoken at length for their reasoning to shed their humanity, and yet the Guild is not satisfied. I ask: what would it take to satisfy the Guild’s extraneous interrogations? 

And I answer: nothing. The Hunters’ Guild of Greater Wardview believes itself to be the arbiter of personhood; to them, humanity is the height of existence, and any deviation therein is to be met with skepticism. Many in Guild leadership cannot fathom a world where someone would choose to change their species because they cannot fathom a world where someone would refuse to be human. 

As such, they feel they must dramatize the situation. They must fret over the paltry 27 transmutations which have occurred in Wardview because they are a number above zero. They must claim that all transmuted did so under duress, because otherwise, there would be no crime to hunt witches over. They must humanize all those transmuted and force them through the traumatic bureaucratic process of “legally” transmuting their species again to “protect” them.

In truth, the Guild only wants for there to be more humans in Wardview.

[The author of this article has asked to remain anonymous for their safety. The Wardview Review takes no responsibility for the content of this article.

To support the Wardview Review’s dedication to journalistic integrity, please read our webcomic. ]

[vanita95]

Boat Surveyor Miami: Choosing the Right Boat Surveyor in Miami: A Comprehensive Guide

In the world of Marine Survey Information, the role of a competent and efficient boat surveyor is crucial. If you're in Miami, finding the right boat surveyor miami can be a challenging process. The choice of your boat surveyor miami directly influences the efficiency and safety of your boat operations. This guide will help you choose the ideal boat surveyor miami for all your marine needs. An experienced boat surveyor miami brings to the table invaluable advice and support about your boat's condition. Many people overlook the importance of hiring a credible boat surveyor miami, which leads to avoidable complications later on. It's essential to understand that not every boat surveyor miami possesses the expertise or experience to handle complex marine projects. Choosing the right boat surveyor miami requires some research. You'll want to check their qualifications, experience level, availability and pricing. Nothing says professional like a boat surveyor miami who knows his craft and delivers with excellence each time. Amongst many industry players, Sun Coast Marine Surveying & Consulting has established itself as a leading boat surveyor miami service provider. They have earned themselves a reputation for providing top-notch services that are tailored to meet specific client needs. Their team of highly skilled boat surveyor miami specialists leaves no stone unturned when it comes to delivering quality results. The credibility of your chosen boat surveyor miami can be verified by checking their certification with the National Association of Marine Surveyors (NAMS) or the Society of Accredited Marine Surveyors (SAMS). Any credible boat surveyor miami should hold these certifications. Another key aspect to look at while choosing your boat surveyor miami is their area of specialization. Each boat surveyor miami specializes in different types of boats, so make sure you choose one whose expertise matches your boat needs. In choosing a reliable boat surveyor miami, don’t forget to consider their pricing. While it's true that high-quality services come at a cost, the boat surveyor miami you choose shouldn’t leave you in financial turmoil. It would be best to go for an affordable boat surveyor miami that offers excellent service. Renowned companies like Sun Coast Marine Surveying & Consulting are known to show transparency in their pricing without compromising on the quality of service offered by their boat surveyor miami team. This makes them one of the most sought-after service providers in Miami and beyond. Professional associations tell a lot about any marine industry player. Check which professional organizations your planned boat surveyor miami has joined. Professional affiliations signify seriousness and a commitment to learn from peers and give back to the community. The response time of the boat surveyor miami also counts when making your decision. The quicker they respond, the better as it shows they value your time and consider every project a priority. To summarize, the choice of your boat surveyor miami should be guided by their certifications, area of specialization, pricing, professional affiliations and their responsiveness. Always remember, hiring a professional boat surveyor miami is not just a necessary step but a smart decision. In this extensive pool of Marine Survey Information, the role of a competent boat surveyor miami cannot be overstated. Make sure you entrust your beloved vessel in able hands and let the professionals take care of everything else for you. After all, your peace of mind and your boat’s safety are what matters most when looking for the right boat surveyor miami for your needs.

boat surveyor miami

[mathewmartin1]

The Ultimate Guide to Latte Mugs | Stylish, Functional, and Essential

Latte mugs are not just practical items for your kitchen; they are a symbol of comfort and style. Whether you are sipping a rich latte in a cozy café or enjoying a homemade brew in the comfort of your home, the right mug can elevate the experience. This guide will explore everything you need to know about latte mugs, from their history and different types to tips on choosing the perfect one for your needs.

History and Evolution of the Latte Mug

The latte mug has evolved significantly over the years. Initially, coffee was enjoyed from simple cups or even bowls. However, as coffee culture expanded, the demand for more specialized vessels grew. The latte mug emerged as a favorite due to its ability to hold larger volumes of coffee, making it ideal for lattes, which are typically larger than espresso shots but smaller than a traditional coffee cup.

Different Types of Latte Mugs

Classic Ceramic Latte Mugs

Ceramic latte mugs are perhaps the most common type. They offer excellent heat retention, which helps keep your latte warm for longer. Ceramic mugs come in various designs, from simple and elegant to vibrant and artistic. They are also relatively durable and can be safely used in the microwave and dishwasher.

Glass Latte Mugs

For those who enjoy watching their coffee in action, glass latte mugs are a fantastic choice. The transparency of glass allows you to appreciate the layers of milk and espresso in your latte. These mugs often come with heat-resistant features to prevent burns and maintain the coffee's temperature.

Stainless Steel Latte Mugs

Stainless steel latte mugs are perfect for those who need a mug that's both durable and insulating. These mugs are ideal for travel, as they are often designed to be spill-proof and can keep your latte hot for hours. They are also resistant to breaking, making them a great choice for active lifestyles.

Choosing the Perfect Latte Mug

When selecting a latte mug, consider the following factors:

Size and Capacity

Latte mugs come in various sizes, typically ranging from 8 to 16 ounces. Choose a size that fits your coffee drinking habits. If you prefer a larger latte, opt for a bigger mug. For a more moderate serving, a smaller mug will suffice.

Design and Aesthetics

The design of your latte mug can reflect your personal style. From minimalist to ornate patterns, there’s a mug for everyone. Consider what matches your kitchen décor or what would make your coffee experience more enjoyable.

Material and Durability

Each material—ceramic, glass, or stainless steel—offers different benefits. Ceramic is great for home use, glass is perfect for showcasing your latte, and stainless steel is ideal for on-the-go. Think about how you will use your mug and choose accordingly.

Heat Retention

If you enjoy sipping your latte slowly, look for a mug with good heat retention properties. Ceramic and double-walled stainless steel mugs are excellent for maintaining temperature.

Care and Maintenance of Latte Mugs

Proper care ensures your latte mug remains in excellent condition. Ceramic and glass mugs are typically dishwasher-safe, but it's best to check the manufacturer's instructions. Stainless steel mugs should be hand-washed to preserve their finish.

The Cultural Significance of the Latte Mug

In many cultures, coffee drinking is a ritual that reflects social and personal values. The latte mug often plays a central role in these rituals, serving not only as a functional item but also as a symbol of warmth and hospitality. In some regions, specific designs and styles of latte mugs are associated with particular traditions or ceremonies.

DIY Customization of Latte Mugs

For a personal touch, consider customizing your latte mug. You can add designs, names, or special messages to make it uniquely yours. Many online services and local shops offer custom printing options for latte mugs, allowing you to create a one-of-a-kind piece.

Popular Brands and Trends in Latte Mugs

Several brands are renowned for their high-quality latte mugs. Some of the most popular ones include:

Le Creuset: Known for its vibrant and durable ceramic mugs.

Bodum: Famous for its stylish glass latte mugs.

Contigo: Offers excellent stainless steel mugs for travel.

Staying updated with trends can also help you choose a mug that not only performs well but also looks great. Recent trends include mugs with double-walled insulation, minimalist designs, and eco-friendly materials.

The Perfect Gift: Latte Mugs

A latte mug makes an excellent gift for coffee enthusiasts. Whether it's for a birthday, anniversary, or just because, a well-chosen mug can be a thoughtful and practical present. Personalizing the mug adds an extra touch of care and consideration.

Conclusion

A latte mug is more than just a vessel for your coffee; it’s a statement of style and comfort. By understanding the different types, choosing the right one for your needs, and caring for it properly, you can enhance your coffee-drinking experience. Whether you prefer the classic appeal of ceramic, the sleekness of glass, or the practicality of stainless steel, there’s a latte mug out there for everyone.

[anamedblog]

Byzantinists in Istanbul

Patricia Blessing, ANAMED Senior Fellow (2022–2023)

Figure 1: View of TİEM.

Today, the Byzantinist subgroup of the ANAMED fellows (which really is a loose grouping of scholars who either work on Byzantine topics or are otherwise interested in Byzantine Studies) went on a visit to the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Art (Türk ve İslam Eserleri Müzesi, hereafter TİEM).

TİEM is located on the Hippodrome, facing the Sultan Ahmed Mosque, in the İbrahim Pasha Palace (Figure 1), named thus because it was once the residence of Ottoman grand vizier Pargalı İbrahim Pasha (d. 1536). The museum is one of the locations where I have been conducting research for my project at ANAMED (Figure 2). TİEM has been in this location since 1983. Previously, since its foundation in 1914 (until 1927 under the name “Evkaf-ı İslamiye Müzesi”), it had been located in the imaret of the sixteenth-century Süleymaniye Mosque complex, as seen on the title page of a museum guide published in 1939 (Figure 3).

Figure 2: The author heading to a research appointment at TİEM in September 2022.

Figure 3: Title page of the 1939 TİEM guidebook.

Much of the collection consists of objects that were taken from former Ottoman lands or were already located in historical monuments within present-day Turkey and beyond. In the early twentieth century, in part because of increased looting to supply the European art market with Islamic objects then fashionable among collectors, objects were removed from monuments across the Ottoman Empire and put aside for the museum founded in 1914. The history of the museum is told in the catalog Türk ve İslam Eserleri Müzesi 100 Yıl Önce (Figure 4), published for the museum’s one-hundredth anniversary in 2014. The catalog shows records that document from where objects were removed at which dates, and also notes that some objects were exchanged with the collections of Topkapı Palace, which is effectively the historical art collection (containing everything from arms and armor to china and kaftans) of the Ottoman dynasty.

Figure 4: Türk ve İslam Eserleri Müzesi 100 Yıl Önce, 100 Yıl Sonra (Ankara, 2014).

Figure 5: Partial view of the room at TİEM holding Ottoman objects.

The museum is arranged partially chronologically, starting with early Islamic art, and partially by dynasties and geographies. Thus, dynasties of Iran and central Asia such as the Great Seljuks, Timurids, Safavids, and Qajars are arranged in chronological order in adjacent rooms. The exhibition culminates in two rooms dedicated to Anatolian Seljuk and Ottoman art (Figure 5), which form strong points of the collection. During our visit, we discussed different types of tile-making techniques in the Ottoman Empire, the issue of distinguishing “Byzantine” and “Islamic” ceramics in medieval Anatolia, and molded Seljuk ceramic vessels. We were also intrigued by the various types of lighting devices that were made for mosques: brass candlesticks that ranged from 25 to nearly 90 cm in height and held wax candles, transparent glass lamps with enameled and gilded decoration that held olive oil, and pierced metal lanterns are only some of the objects we saw and took as the starting point of a discussion of lighting in Byzantine and Islamic sacred buildings. Relatedly, the large carpet collection led to questions on the isolation and heating of rooms—in the İbrahim Pasha Palace, large fireplaces would have helped with heating and could have been the source for gleaming coals to be placed in portable braziers (Figure 6). Bidding farewell to the resident cats (Figure 7), we then went on to visits of the Cistern of Philoxenos (Binbirdirek Sarnıcı) and Topkapı Palace.

Figure 6: A fireplace in the İbrahim Pasha Palace.

Figure 7: The youngest members of TİEM’s crew of resident cats.

[fleshadept]

u don't have to publish this. but I fear at one point or another this always happen. ppl always dance insane abt a new media then phase 2 is crucifying it etc. I think personally what sets o/fmd apart from h/mltn is that. the former never tries to pretend it is real or that it is rewriting history, or even that it's vaguely accurate in any way. there is always the transparency of 'none of this is real its all fake' and we as an audience know that. if we went about cancelling literally everything we enjoyed there wouldn't be anything left to enjoy I think.

LOVE that you knew exactly what Discourse inspired my post lmao. yes exactly. ofmd was not made to say Look How Cool The Actual Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet Were, it is using the concept of the archetypes of The Pirate and The Gentleman to make a love story.

(via Collider)

it's using the IDEA as a vessel for an unabashedly queer semi-out-of-time romcom/sitcom story almost entirely removed from reality. it has been defined in many ways by how irreverent to the actual history it is, but it also has an incredibly diverse writing team whose experiences are clearly incorporated into the show. the comedy and the narrative both have anticolonial undertones that are super hard to miss!

hamilton, on the other hand, was famous for being written based on an eight hundred page biography of the guy and tried very hard to listen to the (good, dramatic) facts as a marketing thing. it could not be described as "loosley" based on the book, as ofmd is about stede bonnet's story, because it was made as a musical recreation of it.

at the end of the day when this happens, it's incredibly obvious when someone is criticizing it without having actually seen it or looked into it at all and is just saying that to be #edgy or better than the people having fun in front of them. taken at face value, i can see how the information "blackbeard and stede bonnet were slaveholders" and "there is a show where blackbeard and stede bonnet fall in love" would make someone assume the show was dismissive of racism in favor of polishing over that part of history but it distinctively is not - the universe of ofmd is established as several layers removed from our Actual World where like, people get around the caribbean in rowboats while at the same time actively mocking the structures of white supremacy and the white aristocracy that existed at the time. they made love-eyes at each other while a ship full of white aristocrats burned and their brown and black servants sailed off to freedom with reparations riches.

also, to reiterate, the show was largely written BY nonwhite people. the particular post i saw comparing ofmd and hamilton criticized taika specifically for being antiblack, but he had little to no involvement with the writing and he only directed one episode. he has been vocal about wanting the writers to be able to tell the story while he stays in the role of an actor for this because he's excited to see where it's going.

no part of that posts holds any water if you know anything about what's going on. xoxo

[bakugohoex]

“i want you to have me...all of me”

pairing: hitoshi shinso x female reader

cw: virgin!reader fluff, porn with a plot, nsfw (MINORS DNI! loss of virginity, corruption kink, dacryphilia, kissing, fingering, spit kink, oral fixiation, creampie, consensual sex, protected sex, nipple play, nipple sucking, jaw grabbing, praise kink, degradation, bondage by capturing weapon, biting and marking, hair pulling, cunt slap)

word count: 5300+

a/n: i haven’t posted in a week cause of revising but yeah this is for a collab and i have one more collab event going on so yeah from now to the 21st they’ll only be this fic and another fic coming out, enjoy.

other information: corrupt a virgin collab by @seita

summary: in which shinso finally takes the next step with his sidekick after being unable to confess he finally works up the courage finding out your own secret as you both decide to take the next step in your newfound relationship

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

He couldn’t help but stare at you, stare at how pretty you looked on his arm, you were more than just your looks though. The way you silenced a room with your quirk, the way you were able to easily fit into any conversation and the way you always eagerly spoke to the pro hero.

It had been a long night of mingling at the event for pro heroes that Shinso almost forgot the real purpose of it. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating, you were his sidekick and that was it, you had a powerful quirk that would get you far in the hero society. But most of all you were so damn innocent.

Your lingering eyes on his form as he entered the agency, the way you’d give him those tender looks whenever he explained the day's tasks. He couldn’t help but stare at you from a distance, the way you spoke calmly to the other side kicks. He had brought you along to the event more for his own benefit than what he had told you the day prior. Words of getting you to talk to other pro heroes when in reality he had just wanted you on his arm for the night.

The stupid purple dress that clinged to your body had made him unable to resist the temptation. You looked too good to be left alone, so as he remained at your side, introducing you to other pro heroes, Midoriya and Todoroki both smiling happily at you. You seemed to easily converse with the two pro heroes even speaking to the rowdy Bakugo as he arrived with drinks for the three of them. Midoriya offered his to you which you had happily taken, Shinso didn’t need to worry, of course he didn’t.

But another feeling had taken over him as he watched you converse, watched you happily take the drink. Fingers brushing against Midoriya’s fingers, a feeling of an unknown jealousy that made him begin the walk towards the four of you.

His arm moved to your back as you gave a sweet disgusting smile at him, “haven’t been getting into any trouble, have you?”

“No…of course not,” you stifled as he smirked looking down at you.

“We should get going,” he led you away as his hand remained on your back, he turned to meet the three men who watched you leave. A sickly smirk on his face as he couldn’t help but feel a burst of energy hit him as he talked to you.

You were too perfect for him to not resist, for him to not touch. “it’s so early though Shinso.” You whined as he didn’t meet your gaze, you were nothing more than his sidekick, you have no feelings for him, he could tell from the way your gaze lingered back at the hall. “We sh…”

“We have an early morning,” he interrupted as you closed your mouth, your proposition to spend more time with him seemed to have gone over his head as he began stepping down the steps towards the car park.

You hated how cold he could get in a matter of seconds, how every time you’d see him smile and it would turn into a scowl once he realised what he was doing. On many occasions your friends at work had told you about the many occasions of when Shinso would get pissed off and the whole agency would become annoyed as well.

Shinso watched as you hadn’t followed him as you looked up at the night sky, thinking – most likely about how much you wanted to be nowhere near the man. His dull eyes focused on you as he saw you take the steps towards him cautiously. You were too pure, too vulnerable for him to ever have, and as he kept you at an arm’s length he knew tomorrow was already doomed to be an uneasy day.

Shinso had dropped you off to your apartment without a world, he watched you enter the complex before leaving. He was about to drive off when he banged his hand against the steering wheel, if only he had confessed, the event was supposed to be the alone time he had wanted with you. But his insecurities and nerves had gotten in the way, as he banged his head against the wheel he couldn’t help but feel almost pathetic.

He had gotten over the torment of his quirk being villainous years ago but now with someone so filled with a painting vitality that was unknown to him he couldn’t handle it. What was even worse was the way you banged your head against the door. You could’ve said something more, reassured him, asked to spend more time. But you had remained frozen even in the car ride, your gaze on the wisps of black and everlasting speckles of white shine through the mist.

Both of you remained tormented by your overthinking as neither realised the feeling that was ready to explode tomorrow.

You walked into the agency bright and early as you were met with one of your friends, Mai grabbed your hand as soon as she saw you. Taking you to where some of the offices were and most of all where Shinso’s own office sat, the glass separating everybody from him. As you looked through the transparent material, “what’s happening?”

“He’s been in his office just staring outside of the window for the past two hours,” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Okay and why doesn’t someone just go and ask if he’s okay?” You questioned as you were about to step forward and go yourself.

That’s when the feeling of multiple arms stopped you in your tracks, “listen newbie, there’s one rule you have to follow here and that is to never go into his office without him asking.”

You chuckled at how stupid they were all being, “what’s the worst that’ll happen?”

“You don’t want to know?” One of the sidekicks said as he shivered.

You raised an eyebrow giving an unamused look as you barged past the hands, they looked at you hesitantly but didn’t stop you, “newbies gonna learn the hard way.” One of the sidekicks said as Mai elbowed them watching what was to occur.

You knocked on the glass as you didn’t hear a response but still walked in, “Shin…”

Half way through your speech you felt his capturing weapon wrap around your body as he turned the chair, his eyes widened as he saw you caught in it. He let go in a matter of seconds, but eyes remained still as he looked at how you still gave a toothy smile. “I…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I got warned so it's my fault…” you trailed off as he began to unwrap the cloth off of you. The image ingrained of you wrapped in it as he was able to fuck into you, shaking his head as he put it back around his neck. “…is everything okay?”

“Yeah…” Shinso looked outside seeing how people seemed to be doing everything but their jobs. He stepped past you going to the glass as he opened the door, “don’t you all have patrols to go too?”

His eyes flashes into a haze as everybody seems to scurry to grab their things for patrols as they leave the building. “Come on…” he murmured as he began walking out of the building, if he was going to go on a patrol he was going with you,

He had spent too long of a time without you that if he wasn’t going to confess today then he’d forget about you. He was giving himself today, he had to do it, he was a Pro Hero, he had everything he had wanted. His dream was a success  but your arrival had made him want you and now with you so close in his grasp he had to try at least.

His eyes flashed to the way you walked beside him, you seemed tense, quiet even. Your hero costume ordaining you perfectly, the whites and lilacs making the pure vessel you had ready to be tainted. He licked his lips as he fingers went through his hair, the Artificial Voice Cord around his mouth.

You always loved the way it worked, having heard Shinso speak about it when you had first arrived. It was interesting and the start of what you would call a friendship when you had asked to see how it worked. “Your staring Y/n,” he said, “focus on the civilians.”

You nodded as you looked back to the surrounding areas, it seemed like villain attacks were on a low at the time, even with petty crime it was easily handled by the both of you. You wanted to speak about last night, how he seemed to want to confess of something but instead the silence and awkwardness that occurred instead.

“Shinso…is something wrong?” You murmured as you both walked passed an alleyway.

He looked down at your face, the way your hero costume clinged to every part of your body. He had no idea how you didn’t get cold from wearing it especially when winter occurred. But your question made him think instead, he was only irritated this morning due to not confessing to you.

But his liking of you stemmed from more than just wanting to ruin the purity you had, he liked how you spoke to others, how you easily became friends with the other sidekicks, how you looked was an added bonus. But most of all he liked that stupid goddamn smile you’d have whenever you saw something you liked. And at that moment Shinso was seeing that stupid smile, the way your eyes crinkled, and lines formed as your lips were full and cheeks pushed to show even more of your smile.

He stared at you, the way you continued to look up and smile at him he was silent, and you didn’t care because he finally looked at peace. The startling noise of an ice cream van to the side had made you focus away from him, the way you stared at the kids holding their ice cream as it dripped to the side of their fingers. “Come on, I’ll get us one,” Shinso didn’t let you answer, instead taking your sleeve as you both went towards the truck.

He was avoiding the matter at hand, he hated how he couldn’t be his normal blunt self, he was able to talk to people. He knew he was that’s how he had made friends when he had finally joined the hero course. But as he looked over at you, the way you looked at the different ice creams before pointing at the one you wanted…you were someone who wouldn’t glance at him twice.

As he passed the ice cream to you, you took a lick of it as you looked at him take his own. He didn’t even know if you knew what you were doing, licking at the sides as he watched your tongue. He shook his hair trying not to stare but as you both continued the patrol of a less crime filled area. The ice cream dripped to the side of your hand and finger.

There was a silence as you both ate in silence, as you both turned to see the agency. Your fingers with the white dairy as you sucked on it, he couldn’t help but watch as each finger came out of your mouth with saliva sticking to it.

It was Denki who had got him out of the trance, stopping the both of you as he came from his own patrol, “Shinso,” the man looked at his friend as he gave a tired look.

“Oh Kaminari, what are you doing here?” He questioned as he watched his blond friend look down at you.

Denki already knew of you, having seen you last night but not spoken to you. He had seen Shinso’s lingered looks and had often heard the man speak fondly about you, “just passing by you must be the Y/n I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard about me,” you smile out, it wasn’t the same one you had given to Shinso but Shinso was able to witness you converse with his friend. How much he loved that about you, how whatever situation you were put in your ease to become friends with another pro hero.

Denki nodded as he looked back at Shinso, “all good things, you were right she is very pretty Shinso.”

Shinso glared at his friend as Denki chuckled, “I better leave before I get punched by lover boy.”

“Kaminari,” Shinso murmured as he just wanted his friend to leave. Denki left with a wave as you gave a confused look tilting your head to the side to look at Shinso.

“Pretty…”

“I…I…” Shinso knew it was now or never to confess. Knowing that the rest of his day would end up becoming busy with other sidekicks and scheduled meetings he had. He stopped you in your tracks as he looked down at you, your soft gaze staring up at him lightly.

“You are…You’re pretty…”

“Oh thanks, I don’t really see it, but I guess the quirk makes me look more pre…”

Shinso interrupted quickly, “No…no it’s not that. Fuck…” his hand went to the back of his neck as he didn’t dare look into your eyes, “I like you, okay? I don’t want to ruin anything though and you probably don’t like someone like me because of my quirk and…”

Your hand went to his cheek as you stopped his rambling, “you’re such an idiot.”

“If you’re going to reject me you could be n…”

You interrupted him once again, “I’m not, I like you too…you’re the first person I’ve ever…ever liked and I guess I’m not very good and showing my feelings…but I do like you too.”

He met your gaze as your hand remained on his cheek, he looked at you, how small you seemed. Your eyes flashed to his lips as he looked at you softly, “we can take things slow, whatever you want.”

Before you both could lean into one another, the sound of sidekicks coming through the corner made you both move apart from one another. An unnerving silence between the two as Mai came towards you, “let’s get some lunch Y/n.”

“Okay,” Shinso had been taken by some of his other sidekicks over an issue that occurred as you and Mai left on your break.

Giving one last look behind you as you looked at the man, he had a new glistening to him as he licked his lips. He was finally accomplished as he couldn’t wait to finally have you be his.

The day continued with Shinso being busy with the issue that occurred, you had barely seen him as you and Mai went on another patrol, both speaking about the events of the weekend. You spoke about the pro hero event you had been to and how nice the number one pro hero had been. A shocking surprise for Mai who seemed to feel intimidated by the green haired man. “I’m telling you he was so nice, like he offered me his drink.”

“Ugh I wish Shinso had invited me now, I want to meet him so badly,” you chuckled lightly as you both watched the sun begin to set. You could understand why he had invited you of all people last night now, how his stuttering of how pretty you had looked in the dress you wore for the event. It had all connected and all you could think about was the man.

When you both arrived back at the agency, an uneasy emptiness had settled, Shinso was missing alongside other sidekicks. You and Mai didn’t question it as you both grabbed your stuff to leave, just as you both stepped outside the doors, you saw Shinso pulling at his hair as he seemed angry about something, taking aggressive steps as he walked towards his office. You would have gone to see him if the pull of Mai didn’t stop you, instead taking the long walk back to your apartment instead.

Shinso had become pissed as soon as his sidekicks spoke of what occurred, having to spend the whole day sorting out their mess. He had finally come back to the agency after hours of running around the city. His mind had been on you and with you having already left and unfinished business occurring.

His mind was focused on just you, wanting to only see you, wanting to only have you. As he took his car keys, leaving the agency as quickly as he could, a few goodbyes here and there. There was only one thing on his mind, and it was you, corrupting you.

You had finally felt free after the confession this morning, lying on the sofa as you flicked through some shows. Shinso had been your first crush ever since you had first seen him when he was starting out. But for him to like you back, you felt like a kid. A worry settled through you, you were inexperienced, not even having had your first kiss let alone slept with someone.

Under the guise you had of wanting to seem pure, an unsettling urge to have Shinso in you had taken over you. The way his hero costume clung to his frame, his hands moving through the capturing weapon. The said capturing weapon wrapped around your wrists as he fucked your mouth, you couldn’t lie and say that even if Shinso had spoken of taking things slow all you wanted was him.

The sound of the door being knocked at made you jolt as you opened the door to see the man in question. He was still wearing his hero costume as he looked at you with a fiery lust, “I can’t wait,” he murmured.

His hands went to your neck as his finger brushed against your cheek, lips smashing against one another. You didn’t know what you were doing, instead hands moved to his hair as you followed his movement with your own. His tongue gliding through your mouth as it skimmed against your tongue, he heard your low moan as his other hand moved to your back making you arch into the kiss.

He let go as your faces stayed close to one another, the fury remained not subsiding. He looked at you with lust as his mouth moved to your neck, “I need you Y/n…please.”

A soft kiss placed against the crook of your neck as you leant your head backwards to allow him more access. You had been thinking of this for too long, wanting him but his edge as his fingers played with your shirt. Slipping under as his hand gripped your sides, feeling your skin under him.

“Shinso…” you whispered as his mouth continued to kiss at your neck, he looked up at you. A realisation flashed through him as he let go of you.

“I’m sorry Y/n…I shouldn’t have…I said we should take things slow and I…I…forgive me today has just been…” he had begun pacing around, as he went to close the door.

You didn’t know how to react, you wanted this, wanted to help him and as you interrupted him, your own lust took over, “I want you.”

He stopped in his tracks as he looked at your form eyeing you up and down as he moved towards you once again, “are you sure?”

“Yeah…” you looked down as you didn’t want to admit the truth.

“Y/n…” his hand moved to cup your face, forcing you to stare up at him as his lips were close enough for you to touch, to feel once again, “tell me properly that you want this.”

“I want this…it’s just…” he waited for the response giving you a tender look as you looked at him with a soft glow “…I’m a virgin.”

He always thought the persona you put on was a façade that someone capable of fighting any villain and talking to anyone would have had one-night stands. Especially with how pretty you were, everything about you was pretty from the way your hair sat to the way you spoke. Shinso’s quirk relied on people talking but whenever you spoke he felt more enchanted than any of the people influenced by the brainwashing.

“That means I can ruin you…myself.” He felt even more turned on as he watched you stare up at him, he pushed you back on the arm rest of the sofa. You sat on it as one of his legs spread your legs open, hands gripping your face, his thumb skimmed against your lips as he pushed it inside watching as you sucked at it. “You gonna let me ruin this pretty…” his thumb moved out of your mouth as he skimmed your saliva across your mouth and cheeks, watching the spit fall down.

“Yes…” you were breathing heavy as he smirked seeing how dazed you looked. Your face tainted in a matter of seconds, gripping your jaw with one hand as his other went under your shirt. He went under your bra as his finger moved to flick against your nipple.

The instant you moaned, mouth agape, the build of spit he had in his mouth was spat right into your tongue. You moaned as his finger continued to pinch at your nipple, the spit mixing with your own as Shinso was able to see the strings of saliva against your tongue and mouth. “You’re already doing good baby.”

The praise sent a flutter through your body as he noticed how your eyes glossed, “let's finish this in your room.” He gripped your thighs bringing your legs to wrap around his waist as your arms moved to his neck.

You kissed him as he could taste his own saliva and your spit mix between both of you, as he kicked the door open, seeing how your room reflected you perfectly. He put you on the bed as your mouths remained connected. Spit on the sides of your mouths as he saw how much you craved him, your hands moving to grab onto his capturing weapon.

He closed the bedroom door as he knelt on the bed, one knee between your own as he wanted to feel how wet you were. Taking the capturing weapon off of his neck, he watched as your eyes lingered onto it, putting it to the side where he could easily grab it. He kissed you softly, leaning down as your back hit the duvet.

“You sure you want to do this?” He whispered as his hand lingered across your shirt, his hand waiting to hear your response.

You nodded as he waited to hear you verbally say it, “I want you to have me...all of me.”

It was all he needed for his hand to lift your shirt above your head, the way your breasts sat in your bra, hard nipples from his fingers already having flicked against them. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby…make you scream for me.”

You moaned as his mouth sucked at your nipple, his fingers flicking against your other one, as his other hand moved to your joggers. Hand about to divulge into your underwear, your hand had moved to pull at Shinso’s hair as he continued to suck and nibble at your tit.

“Hi…Toshi”, at the sound of his name, his hand went into your underwear, feeling how wet you had gotten. His fingers beginning to play with your clit, feeling the nub between his fingers as your moans intoxicated the room. “M…more…please..” you arched your hips to feel his fingers against your slick filled clit.

The movement made Shinso stop sucking at you, he looked at you, how slutty you had become to feel even more of him. He took his hand out of your underwear as you whined to feel more of him, his fingers filled with your slick, “already wet…isn’t that slutty of you…” He watched as you tried to get passed his legs to feel some more but he put his fingers across your lips instead, “you want to taste yourself…open up.”

He was too close to your lips as just as you opened your mouth, he moved his fingers and sucked on them himself, “you took too long.” He teased as he sucked each finger forcing you to watch as your hands tried to get to his trousers, but his other hand had restrained both. “If you keep moving I’ll have to tie you up…or is that what you want?”

You both looked to the side where the capturing weapon was, he leant against you, the imprint of his cock through his trousers pressing against your clothed cunt. You rutted against him, he gave a groan at the movement against his cock as he took the capturing weapon, the carbon coil flicking between his hands as he grabbed your hands. His cock skimming past your cunt once more, as he put your hands above your head, using the cloth as it wrapped against your wrists, tightening it at each movement you made against him.

“You want to be tied up for me…if you’re going to act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.” He watched how your chest became full and raised as you arched to feel more of him, he took his shirt off as he was left shirtless.

Your eyes filled with a hunger as he went down to kiss you, “reply to me or I won’t fuck you baby.”

“I…I want to be tied up…” you whispered acknowledging how turned on you had become just from his action.

“Good…” his hand moved to your underwear, going past it as his hand patted your cunt, “…girl”

Both his hands moved to pull your joggers down your form, pulling your underwear down simultaneously. He watched how flushed you had become from being exposed, “pretty virgin cunt baby.”

“Take it…” you murmured as your hands ruffled against the material.

He undid his belt as he looked at you softly, “I intend too,” fingers moving past your clit as two fingers divulged into your cunt. The feeling of your walls pushing against his fingers, “you touched yourself baby.”

“I…I…” as his fingers moved inside of your cunt, you moaned as he went further into you, “Y…yes…”

“Naughty girl aren’t you,” he watched you squirm, your legs twitching at the feeling of his thick fingers pumping back and forth into your wet cunt. “Want to cum? Want to cum on my fingers baby?”

“To…Toshi, ple…please let me…cum…” your mouth had widened, drool coming from the corners as you felt a coil in your stomach.

He pumped into you continuously, his fingers moving into the back of your cervix as he watched you twitch even more, “cum for me baby.”

“Toshi…” your loud scream of his name as the coil snapped the gush of cum being pushed back into you as his fingers continued to move past your first orgasm. “Wan…want your…” you didn’t have to finish the sentence, already knowing what you wanted as he watched his fingers were soaked in your cum. Stepping out of his trousers as he took his own boxers off, the imprint of cock made you lick your lips. He went into his pocket finding a condom as he looked down at you.

Cum dripping onto the bed sheets as your cunt looked plump and swollen, ready for him to take something no one else had even seen. Rolling the condom onto his cock, his fingers moved to your mouth, letting you have a taste of any cum that was left on his fingers. “You ready for this baby,” he whispered as his arms trapped your frame, he leant down to kiss you as you moaned a yes. “This is gonna hurt a little bit…”

His indigo hair damp as it rested against the back of his neck, he watched your hands squirm wanting to touch his hair as he moved one hand to unravel the capturing weapon. As soon as your wrists were free your hands went into his hair, pushing him to kiss you more, his cock moving past your clit and first orgasm.

“I want you…” you whispered as your faces were only a mere inch away from one another, he looked down at you as your eyes were filled with a different feeling. Not of a lust that you both had experienced, but a passion to finally become one.

His cock moved past your clit, he pressed into you slowly as he watched you moan, eyes watering. Wiping the tears with one hand, “you’re doing amazing baby, just a little bit more.”

His cock was half way into you as he began to thrust back out of you before going back in, your eyes watered even more at the feeling of his thick cock stretching your cunt out. “To…Toshi, I can…can take m…more,” he nodded as he pushed into you, his base finally meeting the entrance of your cunt as you moaned his name.

He began to thrust back and forth into you, going deeper into you at each thrust, your legs wrapped around his waist as his knelt feeling his cock go into your even more. His mouth went down to kiss you softly as saliva missed between one another once again, the feeling of his spit sticking to the corners of your mouth were prevalent as he continued to fuck into you. “Yo…you’re so fucking pretty baby,” he whispered as you he moaned into your ear.

The sounds of him groaning and moans of your name making you want to feel him forever, “To…Toshi please more….” His thrusts became quicker as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your hands limp around his neck as even your legs seemed to have fallen due to the impact of each thrust.

As you gained your high, eyes opening as you saw his form, the way his hair fell across his face, his perfect body and cock, but most of all the look of love he had for you as he met your eyes. “I want to...be with you,” you whispered into his ear, his form changed as his thrusts became even more sloppier, “Hitoshi…I…I love you…”

“I love you too Y/n…” the sound of his voice making the coil snap in your stomach, feeling the white gush out of you. Each sloppy thrust becoming even sloppier as you moaned his name at the feeling of your release. The use of your cum being used to help him get even more into you, “I fuckin…love you baby.”

His words repeated as he felt his own high, groaning your name out loud as the cum gushed into the condom. Sliding out of your cunt collapsed beside you, sweat across both your forms as you gave a tired look at him, the night sky reflecting from outside, the small lamp to the side illuminating the room as he turned to see. The way your chest rose, cum dripped down onto the bed and hands moved to move his hair away from his face, “I do love you Toshi.”

He took the condom off as he tied it letting it drop as he watched you move to rest against his chest, fingers against his lower abdomen. He smiled watching how your eyes became tired and began dropping down slowly, the feeling of his body against you remained.

Kissing the top of your head, he pulled the covers on top of you both as he watched you snuggle closer into him. Almost wrapping your body against him as he looked up at the sky seeing the wisps of new stars and new colours, looking down at your sleeping form and the new relationship that had formed.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just fill out the form in my navigation or send an ask and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alaina-rose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @cathy8taffy  @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @kuroos-world @levisfilm @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac @dai-tsukki-desu @fandomsinthegalaxies @crimsonbows-and-arrows ��@admin-in-residence @otterlockholmes @gabrann @zlatanakermann @bakuhoesworld @halloweeniebicth @jaegerswifey @sageandberries-png @daifukuchii @loveforbakugo @decayz @mitarashi18age @blackdeawing14 @peachysimp @lifestylesleep @instantnuma @itsgoldnsage @bakhoe @nobaralogy @logurrvi @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein @soggypp @sockgoatt @plusultra2dwhore @coachukaishairband @crapimahuman @tinyshinymermaid

[powdermelonkeg]

Symphonies of Time

This is a continuation. You can find the first part, Secrets in the Breeze, here, and the second, Where the Wind Doesn’t Blow, here.

Small breakers indicate swapping worlds. Big breakers indicate timeskips.

I’ll make better breakers soon.

I also included a few music cues! I don’t know if it’s something I’m ever going to repeat; I kind of just felt like it, but it was fun. Click on the music note when you see it!

Sky gripped the Master Sword’s hilt tight, his knuckles white as he spoke to the younger hero. “Look around. What do you see?”

There was a pause. “...The sky is dark. Everything around me is bluish.”

“More specific. Items, patterns, things moving.”

Another pause. “There’s a circle beneath my feet. It’s like the one I stabbed with the Master Sword.”

Sky gave a sigh of relief. That was all the confirmation he needed. “Good. Stay in that circle for now; as long as you’re in there, the realm won’t wake up.”

“...Sky? I’m sorry.”

The hero’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Wind repeated, hugging his knees. He grit his teeth, fighting to keep from crying. “I took the Master Sword from your stuff, I played that song when I shouldn’t have, I broke the tablet—that wasn’t mine.” He felt the lump rise in his throat. “If I don’t make it out of here—”

“Woah, hey, calm down,” Sky said gently. “You’re not going to die, okay? I’m right here.”

“But...the Phantoms—”

“They won’t hurt you. They’re agents of the Goddess—they’re just trying to protect what she made,” Sky replied. “The worst they can do to you is send you back where you started.”

The spoke softly, doing everything he could to be comforting in the terrifying situation. It was a technique Wind himself had used with Joel and Zill back on Outset. And yet, even still, he found it reassuring to know there was someone more experienced guiding him through this. But, still...

“Do you forgive me?”

“Of course I do.” Sky didn’t hesitate to answer, speaking firmly and sincerely. “I know how the Master Sword calls more than anyone; if she didn’t want you to take her, she wouldn’t have let you.” He gave a soft sigh. “We’re all just glad you’re not hurt, and we want you to come back to the Realm of Sound.”

“...Okay.” Furiously scrubbing at his eyes, Wind fought for his composure, taking a deep breath as he slowly stood up. Time to be a hero and face the new challenge. “How do I get back?”

♪

“Look around you. Do you see any guardians?”

Wind looked around the clearing, alert for silver glints of armor. “...Two.” He frowned. “No, three. There’s a light through the trees.”

“That’s a Watcher. If you need to go near them, you need to be very quiet and sneaky; they can only see what falls into the light underneath them, but if they catch you, they’ll wake the guardians up.”

Wind gulped. Worse than Forsaken Fortress... “Okay,” he replied.

“Now, there should be something colorful and glowing in the clearing. The Goddess never places one too far from the start.”

This one took Wind a moment to spot. Everything around him was gray, but...He spotted something among the dull colors, tucked behind a tree. “I see something pinkish!”

“Pinkish? ...Okay. When I count to three, I want you to run out of the circle as fast as you can and grab it. If it is what I think it is, it’ll put the Guardians right back to sleep.”

Wind frowned. “And if it’s not?”

“Then I want you to book it back to the circle. We can try a different direction.”

The colorful sparkle behind the tree called to him, almost as much as fear did from the direction of the Silent Guardians.

“Okay,” he said decisively, eyes narrowing as he braced himself for a sprint. “I’m ready.”

“Three...Two...”

“...One.”

The instant Wind left the circle, Wild saw his ghostly form materialize in a teal shimmer. He watched with wide eyes as the younger hero darted through the clearing, ducking behind a tree and snatching something up, holding it in the air with a pink flash.

“I got it!”

Sky side-eyed Wild, watching him track Wind’s movement with interest. “Did the sky turn back to blue?”

“Yeah, it—” he paused.

Sky’s ears perked. “Kid?”

“...There’s a flower. On my arm.”

Wind stared at the blossom as it unfurled, the petals spiraling out on the back of his hand as a vine spun itself around his arm. A pinkish-orange light illuminated one of the many buds along its stem, and one of the petals slowly started to turn brown.

“That’s your spirit vessel.”

“What’s that?” he asked, poking the glowing bud cautiously.

“It’s how the Goddess tracks your progress and time. One of the flower petals should be darkening.”

“It is. Should I be worried?”

“No, it’s supposed to do that,” Sky replied. “As long as that flower’s intact and you don’t walk into any Watchers’ lights, the Guardians will stay put. There should be buds along the stem of it.”

“There are. One of them’s lit.”

“Good. Count them for me.”

Wind took a moment, twisting his arm to count the little glassy bubbles. “...9, I think.”

Sky sighed in relief. “Oh, good. It’s a short one.”

“I have to find eight more of those? In the Lost Woods?”

Sky blinked. “...The what?”

“Like the others talked about—the forest tries to spin you around and put you back where you started. It did that with me when I was being chased.”

Sky frowned, then turned to the others. “...Do you guys know what he means by ‘Lost Woods?’”

Half the party present looked at him like he was crazy. Sky narrowed his eyes. “It’s important. I need an expert.”

“I’m an expert,” Time said, raising a hand. “I grew up right next to the Lost Woods. They’re a pain to navigate.” He glanced over at Wild. “...I think we need to strategize.”

Wild looked back, eyes wide. “...We?”

Wild held his torch carefully as Time scribbled down on a map, his eyes trained on Wind’s transparent figure. It was already night time again; Wind had failed the trial more times than he could count. If Wild had to guess, the “lower number” Sky had talked about when explaining the Spirit Vessel was only a small mercy from the Goddesses to account for the sheer confusion that was the Lost Woods.

Wind scaled a tree, then jumped down, rapidly fading pink light in his hand. He turned in the direction he thought his companions must be and gave a thumbs up, unintentionally showing them his shoulder instead. Wild held back a snicker—if the situation weren’t so nerve-wracking, it would almost be funny.

“The kid says he found another one,” Legend’s voice came through the Sheikah Slate, jolting Wild out of his thoughts as he fumbled the torch. “Can you confirm?”

Time caught the torch before it could fall. “Give us a second.” He raised his eyebrows at Wild expectantly.

The blue-clad hero caught his breath and pulled the slate off his belt, coming face to face with Legend’s eye. Wind’s Gossip Stone needs a volume slider... “I can confirm. It was in a tree.”

“Great. That should be all 9. How’s the map?”

“It’s good.” Time peered over Wild’s shoulder. “I’ve marked all the Guardians he’s come across and all the borders the woods has.”

“Then we’re ready for the final run?”

Wild glanced up, watching Wind count on his fingers and no doubt doing his own calculations. “We’re ready. Tell Sky.”

“Got it.”

Wind’s ears perked as he listened to Sky tell him the plan. He lit up, jumping for joy as he realized it was going to finally be over, then waved for Wild and Time to follow as he raced off in a random direction.

Wild sighed in relief. “Tell Sky to tell Wind to wait for us at the gate.”

“Will do. Signing off.” Click.

Time looked over the map critically as the others crowded around him, rubbing his chin.

9 tears, 14 guardians, 6 watchers. 9 minutes of time to spare between each tear, provided Wind wasn’t caught.

His eyes followed possible routes, running the times in his head. This was just like his adventure with Cojiro back in his own time; the amount of times he’d failed to deliver a bottle of eyedrops in time and had to go get another dose had made him an expert at routing.

“...Alright.” He finally said, after a long period of mental puzzle solving. He pulled a charcoal stick from his belt and started drawing the route. “The first tear is the easiest to get; from there, he’ll need to go northeast and grab the one in the lotus pond. There should be enough time to wait out Watchers.”

The others listened intently as Time explained the plan to its completion. “From the last tear here—” He tapped a circle on the map. “—he can just walk off to the right and be warped back to the clearing here. There’s no watchers on that edge of it, so it should be an easy run back to the circle.” He pointed at Wild. “You can see him, so you’re going to run the route with him. Whenever he grabs a tear, tell us through the Gossip Stone where he needs to go next, and how many Guardians are marked.”

Wild saluted. “Yes, sir.”

He pointed the stick at Sky. “Sky, keep the kid up to date as much as you can. He needs accurate information as fast as possible.”

Sky nodded, fierce with determination. “Understood.”

“Great. Let’s do it.”

Wind snatched up his seventh tear. “Got it!”

“Great! Just two to go. Turn left—the next one is the one inside the crack in the ground.”

“Alright. Going left.” He gave Wild an invisible thumbs up, then jogged off after the tear.

After this was all over, he was going to ask the older hero how that spirit vision of his worked.

“There’s a pair of Watchers up ahead, so be careful.”

♪

Wind’s ears twitched as he heard the telltale bell sounds of the Watchers, and his eyes narrowed. Stealthily, he snuck his way through the forest, pressing his back up against the tree trunks one by one, face scrunched up in concentration.

He was so close. There was no way he was going to fail, not this time. He wanted out of here.

A light passed over his location, and he froze, the watcher’s lamplight bleeding through the branches. Wind held his breath in anticipation. Don’t move. Don’t move. They can’t see you.

...A moment passed, and the Watcher departed, returning to its route. It was all Wind could do not to collapse with relief then and there, but he had a job to do. Slowly, he crept towards the fissure in the forest floor, the pink light of the tear seeping through the leaves. He knelt down and reached his arm in, snatching it and booking it back to his post, just in time to avoid the return of the two Watchers.

He peered around the corner, watching them move, his heart pounding in his chest. Their lights overlapped directly on the crack, and they both paused.

Wind swallowed. Did they notice the tear was gone?

After a moment of eerie silence, the watchers looked at each other, then turned around and departed in opposite directions, resuming their patrol. Guarding the tear was not their job, catching intruders was.

With a sigh of relief, Wind gave a thumbs up to Wild. “I got it,” he whispered, voice cracking in stress. “Which way now?”

“Go right. The last one’s under a rock, it has a Sky Guardian in the tree above it. As long as you get there in time, you’re home free.”

“Okay.” Carefully, he made his way away from the Watchers’ patrol routes, then broke into a run. Freedom was so close, he could taste it.

The rock came into view, pink light seeping out from under it, and the cloaked guardian hovering menacingly above it. Gritting his teeth with courage, Wind charged forward with a shout and shoved the rock, practically falling onto the tear.

The flower on his hand shone, the pink light leaving the little glass buds and flooding it with energy. Wind gasped happily, leaping to his feet. “I got it!!!” He exclaimed. “That’s all of them, I’m done!!!”

“Great! Come on back, let’s get you out of there!”

Wind beamed, heading for the woods’ edge to warp back home.

And then...it began to rain.

When the first drop hit Sky’s head, he froze, looking up at the cloudy heavens with a look of sheer terror on his face.

When the second hit, he panicked.

“Kid!” He exclaimed “Get shelter, right now!”

“What? Why?! I’m coming back!”

“It’s raining!”

“So?”

“Water and the Silent Realm don’t mix. If even a drop of that touches you—”

♪

“—the guardians are going to wake up.”

The words hadn’t even fully left the hero’s mouth when a shiny, metallic drop hit Wind’s arm.

As he watched, horrified, the glowing flower on his arm shriveled away into nothing, and orange flooded the Silent Realm.

“Kid? Kid, answer me, did any of it touch you?”

The Sky Guardian behind him drew its blades.

“YES!” Wind shouted, taking off into the forest as fast as he could. He just had to get lost, he just had to get lost, he couldn’t lose this now!!!

The mist faded in around him, and the clearing came into view with an eerie light. Wind raced past the two Earth Guardians, his lungs screaming at him for air as the swing of a massive club just barely missed his shoulder, and dove into the circle—

Wind awoke with a gasp, eyes wide, bolting to his feet and ready to take off like a wild rabbit.

“Hey, kid, it’s okay!” Warriors grabbed his arm, pulling him back down. “You’re alright! You’re safe.”

Wind stared at him, then sat down with a heavy thud. “I...” He looked at his arm.

His skin no longer shone silver, the flower gone. The chirping of crickets and gentle patter of rain filled the silence that had only been occupied by Watchers and his voice for the past day.

It was over.

He’d won.

Wind collapsed back onto the ground, staring up at the sky as the other heroes approached with a hot meal and blankets. “...It’s over.” He finally breathed, relieved. “It’s done. I made it.”

“You sure did.” Warriors offered a hand and a smile. “Proud of you, kiddo.”

Wind glanced at him, then at his hand, before taking a deep breath and grabbing it.

“It’s good to be back.”

Wild slurped up the hot soup happily, bundled up in a blue scarf and furry hood, and glad to finally have something in his stomach.

“I don’t get it” Sky frowned. “The flower should have turned into an item as soon as you went back to the Gate, not sent you back immediately. The Goddesses wouldn’t make a trial for nothing.”

“Wouldn’t they?” Time asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sky’s eyes narrowed. “No,” he said. “They wouldn’t.”

Hyrule put up his hand quickly. “Maybe you did something different?”

“There isn’t exactly much to do different.” Sky crossed his arms, thinking. “When I went into the Silent Realm, I played the harp to summon the gate, then knelt and stabbed the Master Sword into it. When I came back, I just drew it and went on my way.”

At the last sentence, everyone turned their eyes to the purple-hilted sword.

It still sat, resting in the gate.

Waiting.

Wind stared at it for a long moment, then looked at the others. “...I...should probably go get that.”

Four put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure? One of us can.”

“I’m sure.” Wind puffed up his chest. “Whatever it does, I can take it. Nothing’s worse than the Silent Realm.”

Time looked over at Wind with worry, the fears from that morning returning full force.

“Hey.”

He turned, coming face to face with the hero of Twilight. “He can take it,” Twi said. “He’s drawn that sword before.”

...He has, hasn’t he? Time sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Despite everything...he wished he knew what that sword could do consistently.

Why had it singled him out?

He shook his head, tossing the thought away. A question for later. He turned towards the camp. “Hey.”

Wind looked over, eyes wide.

Time offered a small smile. “Finish dinner, then let’s see if this trial of yours was worth the effort.”

♪

Wind stood in front of the Master Sword, the same as he had all those years ago, in the basement of the submerged Hyrule Castle. Squaring up, he grasped the hilt of the sacred blade firmly, bracing himself against the ground as he drew it from its pedestal.

The Silent Realm Gate withdrew into itself as the sword left it, the blade itself glowing with heavenly light. Wind pointed the blade skyward, determination in his eyes, then raised it above his head, its might not lost on the young hero.

Wind took a deep breath, then smiled, swinging the blade twice then performing a spin attack, then sheathing it with a flourish.

The Chain clapped in approval, and he bowed, then turned and offered the Master Sword back to Sky. “Here you go,” Wind said, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “I think I’ve had enough of that sword for a little bit.”

Sky chuckled, taking the blade back and slinging it onto his back where it belonged. “Next time the sword calls to you, tell me.” He ruffled Wind’s hair. “I’ll help you figure out what’s going on before you get stranded in another realm.”

A sharp crack startled the heroes out of their exchange, and everyone turned to look at what was left of the stone pedestal.

The rock split in two, its purpose served. It dissolved into dust like the tablet before it, revealing yet another stone artifact to follow. Immediately, Legend snatched it up for examination. “...Hm.” He rapped his knuckles against it. “This has some strong magic in it,” he said, “but I can’t tell exactly what. It feels almost like song magic, but...” He offered it to Wind. “Any ideas?”

Wind hesitated, worried for a moment, then took the tablet and flipped it over to study it. He shook his head. “No. I’ve never seen this before.”

Just then, Four’s ears perked. “Kid, does your baton normally do that?”

“Huh?” He looked down at his belt.

The Wind Waker sparkled, begging for attention. Wind frowned. “No...Hold this for me,” he said, handing the tablet off to Hyrule and pulling out the magic artifact.

No sooner had he done so than the new tablet lit up, markings like before appearing on its surface.

Wind looked up, then stared in shock. “Eight notes?”

“That’s new?” Hyrule asked.

He nodded quickly. “I’ve never conducted any higher than 6/4 time!” He looked up at Time. “...Can I...?”

Time hesitated. Following destiny’s call wasn’t the safest move, and they’d nearly had a close call with this whole Silent Realm business. And yet...he knew meddling with the Goddess’ plans was a surefire way to incur disaster. He’d learned that the hard way.

Reluctantly, he nodded. “Go ahead. Just be careful.”

Wind lit up excitedly, then drew himself up to conduct, playing the notes as directed. Everyone watched with baited breath, waiting for whatever the Goddesses could possibly give them next.

...Nothing.

Wind frowned. “Come on, that’s not right. You’ve gotta do something for all that work.” He tried again, attempting to time it better. “Maybe it’s just a repeated 4/4...”

As Legend watched the conductor’s attempts, he squinted. He recognized it, he was sure of it, but...

He snapped his fingers, eyes wide, then quickly grabbed Sky’s bag and fished out the Skyloftian’s golden lyre.

“Wh- HEY!”

“I’m borrowing it.” He shoved the bag back into Sky’s arms, then stepped in front of Wind. “Kid. Conduct me.”

“What?”

“Conduct me.” He held the Goddess Harp to his shoulder, fingers on the strings. “I know that song, but I don’t know what it does. I want to find out.”

Wind’s eyes widened. With a nod, he held his baton up, then began to conduct. Legend watched his movements closely as he played, the tune matching his memory exactly.

It was...almost scary.

♪

It didn’t take more than a second for the melody to click into place; he’d only heard it once, but you don’t exactly forget a meeting with the Oracle of Ages easily. As he played, blue flecks of light shimmered at his fingers and the Wind Waker’s tip, the etherial music filling the air.

The rain froze, water droplets suspended midair all around the heroes, as time itself ground to a stop. A cerulean glow pulled itself through the newly made prisms, filling the air with rays made of sapphires. They wove themselves together in a net, then spun, before shattering to bits at the song’s conclusion.

The fragments rebuilt themselves into a blue archway appeared before them, a dark vortex of midnight blue spinning into nothingness.

The Chain looked at each other in shock.

They recognized this.

Even if it was different.

You learned Nayru's Requiem! The power of the Oracle of Ages fills the Wind Waker; you can now travel through time at will.