#this is just an excuse to ramble about who goes there’s first cover

[cyber-corp]

“don’t judge a book by its cover” Wrong. Absolutely judge a book by its cover art.

Take a look at this cover of a repress of “Who Goes There?” by John W. Campbell. A decent cover, yes? You’d see this on the shelf, think it looks okay, and then never think about it again.

Now look at THIS.

The first pressing cover of the novel from 1948 by illustrator Hannes Bok. Look at how fucking hard it goes. Look how it combines surrealist, almost gothic imagery with the main themes of the novel (humanity, paranoia, etc.). Look at the fucking FACE. Instantly more memorable and will definitely leave an impact on whichever library-goer sees it first.

To some, first impressions are extremely important when it comes to a piece of text or media. If you can judge an album or a game by its art, then surely you can judge a book by one.

SEE ALSO:

The Great Gatsby, with its amazing first press cover, painted by Francis Cugat

A Clockwork Orange has many great ones, but the one copy I have has a boring Penguin template one

[wonderlandwalker]

Nurse Nightingale | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Someone wakes you up in the middle of the night, when you realize it's James looking for help you don't have the heart to refuse him

Content Warnings/Tags: fluff, blood, bruising, cuts, mentions of violence, insinuations of smut

Word Count: 1k

A/n: I'm currently using the uni holiday as an excuse not to study so now I'm writing non-stop instead. Not quite smut but sorta if you're willing to squint

*Knock knock*

You turn around, looking at the clock on the bedside table. Who the hell is knocking on the door at 3 AM?

*Knock knock*

You turn onto your stomach, pushing your pillow over your head in an attempt to block out the noise.

*Knock knock*

It’s louder this time, more determined, and you hear someone speak: “Y/N, it’s me. Please let me in.” He’s rambling a bit, he sounds tired as well. A shiver goes through your body at hearing his voice, his voice always seems to mess with your head in a way nothing else can.

“What are you doing here James? It’s 3 AM.” You ask, through the still closed door, your voice dripping with sleep. “Just, please, open the door..” He sounds desperate this time, so you decide to do what he asks. You stand up, maybe a little too fast, making your head spin, and walk towards the door. You open it, meaning to step aside to let him in, but when you see him illuminated by the hallway, you freeze. He’s bleeding, a cut starting at his nose and going diagonally underneath his eye, he’s straightened his glasses but there's a crack in them, another bruise at his temple, one on his lips, those soft lips you always think about, even a bruise below his ear on his cheek masking his jawline. “What in Merlin’s name happened to you?” You hear yourself whisper, more at yourself than him. “It’s nothing..” he slures out “.. just wanted to see you.” You move aside to let him into the empty room and he takes the opportunity, walking towards the bed, but not before grabbing you by your waist and giving you a quick, but passionate kiss. He takes you by surprise with it, your mind still trying to wrap around what happened, and your body falls into him, making him hiss from the cut on his upper lip, but he doesn't seem to want to stop regardless.

He sits down on your bed when he breaks the kiss, and you turn on the bedside lamp to get a better look at him. Small bruises are forming on his arms, and his muscles seem strained, his exhausted body melting into the bedding.

“Lay down, I’ll be right back.” you mumble at him before moving to the other side of your room where you left your wand. After a little searching, you find it, but with how tired you are, you’re not sure how much you trust yourself with it. You remember the small first aid kit in your bathroom, and move to get it before making your way back to James.

You see him struggling to take his jumper off, and move over to help him with it. Once it’s off he moves to lie down, and you put some extra pillows under his head, making him sit up a little more before pouring the sterilizer on a towel. You look over at him again, and wonder about how you’re going to do this, when you see him stretch his arm out to you. You take his hand and he pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him and giving me the perfect position to patch him up.

You look at his chest, covered in blooming bruises, and when the towel hits the few open wounds, he groans a little, instinctively moving his hands to your hips to ground himself. His eyes are closed, and even though he looks like he should be in pain, he seems relaxed.

He stays quiet the whole time, only the occasional hiss or groan leaving him. And when you’re done, having put everything back in its proper place, he asks you silently: “Can I please stay over” “Of course you can, I’m not letting you wander back in this state.” you tell him while moving to lie down beside him. He doesn’t seem satisfied though, and pulls you in even closer.

After a few more minutes of silence, you ask him: “Jamie, what the hell happened to you..?” “It’s, it’s nothing, really, just-" He seems a little hesitant, so you wait for him to continue. “There, there were these guys…” He sounds a little angry, but you still don’t know what he’s talking about. “Do you remember the party that was going on, earlier tonight?” “Of course I do.” you tell him. You had gotten tired early, and decided to head to bed while the others stayed a while longer. “Well, turns out some of the Slytherins had noticed you, and they were talking about you.” He seems even angrier now, you remember this look, it’s similar to the look he got when he lost the Quidditch house cup, except this seems more personal somehow. “They were talking about you, telling their stuck-up friends all the things he would do to you- calling you names and saying how he-” you see him clench his fists, his knuckles turning white. “He was telling them how he would-, bloody hell, I can’t even get it out of my mouth. But I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I, well, I may have punched him.” “You did what?” you ask him, not fully wanting to believe what he’s telling you. Sure, he get detention often enough, but never for fist fights, he doesn't get in fist fights. “I punched him, and I got into a fight with him and his friends.” The hesitance is back now, replacing his anger. “I’m sorry y/n, but I couldn’t stand him saying those kinds of things about you.” You smile a little, and he looks confused. “You got into a fight to defend my honour, Potter?” Your smile only growing. He only nods and you don’t hesitate to lean in, kissing him softly. You can still taste the blood on his tongue, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t seem to either.

You shift over, and he pulls you in to straddle his lap once again. You give him a quiet “I love you” in between kisses. He doesn’t need to say it back this time, his actions having spoken louder than words.

[amphitriteswife]

💸🎰Love💞casino 💸🎰

Excuse the bad writing alr

♠️♦️♣️♥️

A story where a certain ocean god goes to a Casino only to find a special surprise…

Pussydon the nutbuster’s pov:

The gods decided to have a boy’s night. Ofcourse Zeus brought up the idea to go to a casino. Hades had declined and said that he would rather go do something fun with his wife. Poseidon and Adamas decided to go with Zeus’ idea. They decided to go to Japan since Zeus had heard that there was a special underground casino in Osaka. So off they went.

When they entered the building it looked like a rather normal work place. A man with slicked black hair and glasses led them underground. When they entered they immediately noticed that there were a lot of people. Zeus immediately tried to get with one of the waitresses but they politely declined . He didn’t think much of it and tried the other waitresses but they also declined his offer as they think that he’s a old creep. This made him very humiliated and frustrated. ‘Why won’t have a night with me! Let me speak to the person in charge of this casino!’ Zeus said a bit annoyed considering that waitresses in most casinos usually did what the customer wanted. ‘You’re making a ruckus.’ Poseidon said catching the attention of the beautiful carps who were in an aquarium placed in the walls. The man who led them underground said that they would need to go to the back if they wanted to speak to the person who was in charge, after Zeus had his ramble Adamas decided to drag him and Poseidon along who was still interested in the fishes.

‘How may i help you today?’ A lady in a dark red suit asked, wearing a kabuki mask. ‘What is this nonsense!’ Zeus asked her showing her his frustration. The lady simply smiled and asked him what he was referring to. ‘Why did those waitresses reject me?!’ Zeus asked not used to people saying no to him. ‘My staff is allowed to choose who they spend the night with. They don’t have to do so simply because the customer wants a night with them.’ The lady answered still smiling. ‘Then you’ll lose costumers.’ Poseidon chimed in. ‘Are you referring to yourselves? I really don’t care if you leave. All these people in the building are my regular customers. I won’t feel sad if a few people who refuse to follow my rules threaten to leave.’ The lady answered laughing at Poseidon. ‘Then let’s make a deal.’ Poseidon suggested getting annoyed by the lady. ‘A deal? Why would I do that?. We are not business managers. We are gamblers.’ The lady said signaling that they should follow her.

When they entered the room they all looked around. The room was full of games. They had a pool table, mahjong, cards, a roulette, board games, even video games and many more. ‘Who would like to go first?’ The lady asked confidently. ‘I’ll go.’ Poseidon answered. This lady was getting on his nerves. ‘Do you have a preference?’ The lady asked him. ‘No, you may choose.’ Poseidon said giving her the advantage of choosing a game. He’ll win no matter what game she’ll choose. ‘Then…..How about Cho-han?’ The lady asked Poseidon still smiling at him mischievously as her mask only covered her eyes. ‘Alright.’ Poseidon answered. ‘We’ll need a dealer though’ the lady said. ‘I will ask a waiter to be our dealer.’ She replied walking to the door. ‘You will not.’ Poseidon said sternly grabbing her wrist. ‘Please refrain from touching me.’ The lady said immediately dropping her smile and glaring at Poseidon from out her mask. Poseidon released her wrist with a hint of annoyance. ‘I suggest that one of my brothers will be our dealer.’ Poseidon said. ‘I disagree. How about we let someone we both know be our dealer?’ The lady suggested. ‘What do you mean?’ Poseidon asked confused. He had never seen this lady before. How could she possibly suggest that when they both don’t even know each other. Just when Poseidon was about to disagree a person walked in wearing also wearing a kabuki mask. ‘And you say we both know the dealer.’ Poseidon said crossing his arms. ‘Please sit down.’ The dealer asked as they both sat down. ‘Please remove your mask for us.’ The lady asked the dealer. The man removed his mask and put it on the table. All the three brothers where shocked to see who it was. ‘What are you doing here?…’ Adamas asked. ‘Hey! Let us win alright!’ Zeus said with a smile.’ ‘You said you would spend time with your wife…Hades.’ Poseidon said furrowing his brows. ‘My wife works works her…and so do I, little brother.’ Hades smirked as he turned his head to look at the lady.

‘Shall we begin?’ Hades asked. ‘The rules are simple. I will put 2 dices in this cup and shake. The moment i put the cup down faced on the table you will say Cho ( even) or Han (odd). The person who has guessed 3 right is the winner. ‘Are you ready?’ Hades asked already putting the dices in the cup. ‘What will you bet?’ The woman asked Poseidon. ‘ 3 thousand.’ Poseidon answered wanting to play already and get this over with. ‘5million.’ The woman said. ‘What?!’ Poseidon said standing up from his seat. How could she bet so much on this childish game?!. ‘Poseidon….please sit down.’ Hades asked his little brother. ‘Don’t worry Poseidon, you got this! Adamas said showing his support. ‘Ofcourse i got this!’ poseidon replied arrogantly. ‘Yeah! Besides we came here to spend money so don’t worry!’ Zeus said cheering on him. ‘10 million.’ Poseidon said. The woman smiled in response. ‘Alright then…’ Hades smirked abs then shook the cup. ‘Round 1!’ Hades said putting the cup down faced on the table. ‘Even or odd?’ Hades asked both of the players. ‘Odd.’ Poseidon replied not breaking eye contact with the woman in front of him. ‘Even.’ The woman said also not breaking eye contact while still remaining her signature smirk which Poseidon found familiar. Hades lifted the cup. The dices both landed on 6. ‘Even. This round goes to our Lady.’ Hades said in amusement. ‘ Round 2.’ Hades said shaking the cup again and placing it down faced on the table again. ‘Even or odd?’ Hades asked again. ‘Odd’ poseidon answered. ‘Even.’ The woman said leaning back on her chair. Hades lifted the cup. ‘7. Odd wins.’ Hades said chuckling. ‘Thats right! Just one more Poseidon! You’re gonna win this.’ Adamas and Zeus cheered. By the time the cheering calmed down Hades had already shook the cup and placed it on the table. ‘Even or odd?’ Hades asked once again. ‘Even.’ Poseidon answered. ‘Odd.’ The woman answered smirking while still looking at Poseidon. Hades lifted the cup once again. ‘4. Lady in red won.’ Hades answered smirking as he found this very amusing. ‘You cheated!’ Zeus said not pleased with the outcome. ‘Let’s do it again!’ Zeus said now wanting to play pool with her to prove that they can beat her. ‘Our game isn’t finishes yet.’ The lady said to him not appreciating her game getting interrupted. Hades nodded at her as she sighed and turnes to him. ‘Alright then.’ The woman answered.

They had played almost every game there was and she beat almost all of them. ‘You owe me 45 million.’ The woman said to them. All the three brothers knew they didn’t have that kind of money. ‘We can’t pay you…’ Poseidon admitted. ‘That’s strange.’ The woman replied looking Zeus deep in the eyes. ‘Because you’re little brother here also owes me 23 million from all my other casinos.’ The woman said now looking at Poseidon. ‘You own more casinos? Adamas asked. ‘Yes. Two in Japan, one in Korea and another one in Italy.’ The woman replied dropping her smile and now glaring at the brothers. ‘Hey….go easy on them.’ Hades said feeling a bit conflicted now as he still didn’t want anything bad to happen to them. ‘I know that you’re trying to safe them Hades, but this isn’t the first time this has happened.’ The woman replied looking back at Hades and then turning her gaze to Poseidon. ‘You.’ The woman said pointing at Poseidon. ‘You look like you would be worth a bunch. If you can’t pay me I’ll gladly have him.’ The woman said looking into Poseidon’s eyes. ‘I’m not for sale.’ Poseidon said trough his teeth. ‘Oh but you are. You can’t pay me. You’re in my dept. I practically own you.’ The woman said to poseidon a bit flirty. ‘You wench! Do you know who you’re talking to?!’ Poseidon said absolute furious. ‘Ofcourse i know who i’m talking to, King of the seas.’ The woman said calmly while her smirk grew. ‘I’m a God! And you’re just some stupid mortal!’ Poseidon said through gritted teeth. ‘This would work when if we were in the seas. But right now we aren’t in your world Poseidon, but in mine.’ The woman said pridefully as she still had her signature smirk on her face, a smirk Poseidon knew yet remained on the tip of his tongue. ‘Take it off.’ Poseidon spat the woman. ‘Why would I?’ She questioned him making him even more angry. Poseidon snatched the mask and to his utter shock he couldn’t believe his eyes. ‘Even if we were in the seas…I would have equal rights as you, my King.’ The woman took her wig off revealing her wavy, watery hair. ‘Amphitrite?…’ Poseidon said, voice low and soft from the surprise. ‘All of you can go.’ You said dismissing them and turning your attention to Poseidon. ‘Not you, you’ll stay.’ You said smirking as what you would to to him.

Shit was in my draft since last year cuh💀 ignore the bad ahh writing

Tag list: @miss-seanymph-pani @tinyy-tea-cup @vilereign @viostar2095 @nicasdreamer @monstertreden

[ultimatebabygirlsupremebattle]

THE TOURNAMENT SIGN UPS ARE NOW OPEN!

Here we go! Its happening!

For those who are new, this is a transfem Leo art tournament! We all love our girl so much, she deserves a chance to be appreciated and bragged about! The main purpose of this tournament is to give everyone a chance to share their art and an excuse to ramble about our babygirl, we're keeping this light and friendly!

If you're interested in participating, you don't have to worry about being in the interest check first, that was just to make sure we reached the minimum number of participants for the tournament, there is no maximum number, everyone is welcome!

And for those who were in the interest check, I'll be following up everyone who was on the fence soon, and if anyone who was definitely in hasn't submitted their entry by the end of the week I'll be checking on them too, no pressure, just want to make sure nobody is missing out!

Now for the art itself! I have next to no limitations here, as long as its transfem Leo practically anything goes! It can be any TMNT iteration, whether its canon or one you made yourself. AUs are allowed, and any type of art is welcome, digital or traditional, sketched or lined or coloured, whatever you want!

And it doesn't have to be new either, you can make something specifically for the tournament or you can find your favourite drawing of her and submit that! The pressure is low here, if you can't tell.

If you want to draw something to participate but aren't sure if you can finish it in a week let me know and I'll add you to the list of people I'll follow up with after the sign ups close!

And last but not least! Actual submissions! Really, I just need two things:

A link to a post with the art in question, that way I can link to your post as well as show the art! The art will still be shown in the poll post, but I wanna make sure your post gets all the art appreciation and notes

If you've got a name for your transfem Leo be sure to share! For example, mine is Leonora, or Nora for short. I think seeing all the different names for her is fun, and I want to use them in the polls for everyone who has them

And with that, I think we've got everything covered! Sign ups will be open for a week, if you have any questions the asks are open, don't hesitate to come to me if there are any problems!

[effervescentbee]

So the panic still hasn't set in and I'm already running out of punkflower rambles (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

As much as ganke insists he's not the guy in the chair he probably covers for miles at school at least a few times, right? Maybe finishes up some of miles assignments and makes excuses for him when he's late to class and making sure miles gets all the notes

And going off my previous ramble that miles draws Hobie all over his assignments the two get caught when Hobie isn't drawn on the homework for that day

So after that ganke begrudgingly starts drawing Hobie on miles assignments.

At first he takes tracing paper traces a drawing from miles sketchbook and then transfers it onto the homework and that works just fine and they don't get caught anymore

But there's only so many drawings of Hobie in miles sketchbook that are small enough to fit on an assignment so when ganke realizes this he starts trying to draw Hobie by hand so he'll never run out of Hobie drawings

The first few times he sucks at it and can't get miles style right, but since he's traced miles work a lot he quickly gets the hang of it

Now ganke, who isn't the best at drawing, is a master at doodles of Hobie. He complains about it to miles a lot how it's the only thing he can draw that actually looks good and makes miles buy him lunch all the time because he says he deserves an apology

Miles chooses to never complain when ganke demands miles buys him lunch because he knows the lengths ganke goes to to make sure miles doesn't get kicked out of school for not doing the work

[lamportb]

The stitch up

Finally have a minute to re watch episode 4. Rambling below

Love Fagin and Jack covered in viscera in Gaines’ carriage with his wife. “My colleague and I were burying a cadaver” A+ excuse Jack, totally explains why you aren’t wearing pants.

I didn’t notice just how clear it is that Lady Jane is the real governor of the colony. Don’t love her as an obstacle to true love, but I Stan a powerful smart lady.

Hetty is a queen. “All right! Time to check your rose bushes” while she makes the rounds in the brothel, then single handedly loads Rotty in a cart to haul her to the hospital. Also ignores Sneed and gets Jack when it’s clear the first surgery didn’t work.

When Belle goes to observe the surgery Sneed suggests that the surgical theatre is too gory for her and that she should read to the patients instead “some of them can barely read”. Cue pointed look at Jack. I didn’t pick up on this the first time.

Belle also tells Jack that her father paid for Sneed’s medical training! Talk about having connections.

Jack is soooo baby soft when Belle offers to help him. His eyes change. It’s perfection.

despite hating Jack, Sneed still defends him when Gaines is looking for reasons to arrest him. More reason I love that pompous git.

Seriously, there’s not a filler scene anywhere in this series.

Gaines trashes Jack’s room and threatens him with handing and/or flogging to death. Jack has JUST had this very hopeful conversation with Belle and here he is on his bed holding the trampled remains of his signature top hat - the Dodge dilemma. How can he hang it up permanently, and does he want to?

“sniffly Sneed” 😂

dodger hat back on when sneaking around the governor’s yard to find Belle. “We don’t pay for cadavers. We just… borrow them”

11 o’clock cadaver date is the hottest thing Belle has ever heard.

I love Tim and I love how he loves Red.

Fanny is so excited by the idea that Sneed’s medical knowledge will make him a good lover. Yeah…

Jack the savant surgeon - eyes closed in concentration. Lovely.

Jack is illiterate clue 2: he is so unsettled at the idea of being found out he just nopes himself right out of the situation and leaves Belle in the operating theatre at presumably midnight or later. Lol.

“the white ghost who’s close to his grave” should be my new tag for Fagin

Red is so fucking cool

Feels like a very deliberate choice for Belle to let her hair down when she joins Jack in the surgery. Maybe because of the conversation with Fanny about going for it? (Finding love with Sneed?). Also how did Belle know to be there? Tim says they can do the second surgery because Sneed left the hospital. Did Jack just have her hiding on standby? Was it a coincidence? I don’t care - she looks gorgeous.

lots has already been mentioned about the Hetty/Jack/Belle situation but I appreciate the framing of this scene with the three of them - both women assisting in their own way, and both necessary to Jack’s success.

Belle seems genuinely taken aback when Jack is so abrupt with her when the surgery starts, but her relief when she helps him in the end and he smiles at her is so sweet. She is basking in that smile - I don’t think I realized how fast she fell for him. (Of course they start arguing about publication and the moment passes)

“I shall be turned around as a curiosity” - some more insight into Jack’s insecurities.

Lady Jane: “Have you been alone with the surgeon?” Belle: “There’s always another body in the room” 😂

What time is this dinner starting? 2pm? It’s so bright!

love Sneed and the prof arriving in a carriage while Jack walks up in his Navy uniform.

Note to self: research the siege of Sevastopol.

Ah! Jack describes his time as a naval surgeon as “nothing more than butchery” to Lady Jane. Those words sting all the more when she uses them against him later.

Fanny and Belle are both terrible at flirting. Belle can’t stop interrupting to talk up Jack and Fanny can’t stop staring. “I love soup”

I also love how Jack is SO UNCOMFORTABLE with Belle praising him at the table. She’s not lying, but her embellishments are so unnerving to him. “Really, it’s nothing” - but she just. Can’t. Stop.

Jack really is trying. He takes responsibility for Fagin not knowing what the plan is. He tries to fit in. Seems a bit harsh to snap at Belle but she was terrible at reading his cues - like this is her surgical theatre and he has to defer to her expertise. It’s too vulnerable for him.

“I AM rare!” Have i mentioned how much I love the ladies in this show??

Jack’s little voice crack when he blurts out “I CAN read!” And then a little softer “I can read, just not very well”

All her talk of teams and partnerships - she really did bet on him. All in.

”You can take the boy out of East London but you really shouldn’t”

”Belle will never speak to me again” right before taking Fagin’s share of the money and heading to the card table

whew! Gold star if you got this far.

[charlewiss-writes]

blame it on fate / daniel ricciardo

masterlist

day 29: interview (part of one-word november prompts!)

word count: 1k words.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x interviewer!reader

summary: the ever so-confidently daniel ricciardo meets the one that turned it all around. can he avoid looking like an ass, or can he fix it once its done?

author's note: it's truly embarrassing how long it took me to finish this one, and i'm not completely ok with it :( i'll try to get the last day ready before the new year rolls around lol, thanks for being patient with me!!

being barely an apprentice, doing an internship for your marketing major, you always followed your senior, monica, like a lost puppy: writing down in your notepad everything you were learning from her, starting from questions that were okay to ask, noting when was it right to make a joke or two, or when to go straight to the point. but now, with her being sick and, in consequence, not making it to the race weekend, the editorial where you worked at thought it was perfect for some real-life practice: you were actually doing the interviews in the media sector, not just watching from the sidelines.

safe to say your nerves were through the roof, because in your mind, you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place. 

"excuse me, do i know you from somewhere?".

the voice of none other than max verstappen startled you out of your self conscious thoughts. you quickly put on a smile, trying to look friendly and cause a good impression on your first day in.  "yeah, i'm supposed to be assisting monica, but she's sick today, so i'm covering her up".

"oh, that's nice. well, i hope everything goes well for you! we're not that bad" max joked at the end of the interview, when the camera was already turned off. you were most nervous about interviewing the dutch man, given his 'bad man' reputation, but seeing this side of him, crackling a joke or two, left you feeling more relaxed now after the exchange. "i leave you in good hands" he said, signaling to the man that used to be his teammate a few years earlier. it wasn't unusual to hear first his laugh, and then see him around. that's the daniel ricciardo everyone in the paddock knew, and the one that everyone loved. always joking, always smiling, and always so beautifully him. 

"i'm sorry, can we start over? you're quite distracting".

"oh, sorry?" you said, frowning. his eyes widened, realization dawning on his face as he understood why you reacted the way you did. stumbling on his words out of pure nervousness, daniel rambled. "n-no, i didn't mean that in a bad way, you're just so pretty?". ending the sentence with a questioning tone didn't exactly bring you any certainty, and that's what reflected on your reply, "thanks?".

max, who was on the booth at your side, saw how the whole interaction had played out and joined in, palming daniel's shoulder while laughing. "already embarrassing yourself, ricciardo? that's a new record for you". the australian answered through gritted teeth. "shut up, max".

it would've been funny if you saw the interaction from the outside, but since you were at the center of it all, the awkwardness just spreaded through your body. max, not sensing your discomfort. he wasn’t doing it on purpose, it's just that the thrill of getting under daniel’s skin proved to be rather blinding to max. so, he continued making fun of the mclaren driver. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile that bright".

"you're on sight, verstappen. you just wait".

-

following your failed attempt at ending the day without any inconvenience after your encounter with daniel, the rest of the interviews you conducted seemed to have gone right. your biggest fear was asking an unfortunate question, or receive a short answer at something you asked, but it turned out to be fine: all were very understanding of your situation, and did everything they could to make the first-day-nerves go away. so now, with the friday coming to an end, thus ending your work-day, you were making your way out of the paddock to finally go back to the place you were staying at. at least, until you heard someone calling for you.

"hey, y/n, right?"

funnily enough, the man that was almost-shouting your name down the whole paddock was the one you tried to avoid all day since your inconvenient encounter. you replied, nonchalantly, "that's me, i guess. hope i'm not too distracting now, daniel". you didn't mean to give him the cold shoulder, but none could fault you for doing so, even if he explained right away, it still left you doubting every little thing you said all day. daniel, once again, tried to explain himself. "you weren't being distracting earlier either. i just, i don’t know, got really nervous suddendly? i'm sorry, wasn't my intention to ruin your first day here. you must think i'm an asshole" he said, touching the back of his neck in a clear sign of nervousness. which, again, wasn’t your intention to begin with, so your tried reassuring him. "no no, i don't think that, don't worry, daniel" thinking that you were desperately wanting to end the conversation, daniel gave you back a tight lipped smile and turned around, prepared to walk back to mclaren's hospitality. 

"so do i make you nervous, ricciardo?" you said, which prompted the tall man in front of you to turn around, now, with a face-splitting smile, completely changing the sheepishly expression that tinted his face before. "i guess you do, yeah".

reciprocating his smile as best as you could, you quipped "well, we already have something in common". when he deemed it safe to get a bit closer to your frame, without overstepping, you continued, now with a lower tone of voice to avoid prying ears. “are you staying at the hotel near here?" daniel nodded, with his head tilted to the side, not quite understanding yet where you were going with that question. "great!” you exclaimed, maybe in an over enthusiastic tone. “another coincidence. do you think we can, i don't know, coincide in the lobby at eight for a drink?".

you didn’t know where this rush of confidence was coming from, but maybe, you were taking a page of a book that daniel knew well: the flirty-funny demeanor that he maintained all these years on the paddock, and that seemed to have gone missing at the mere sight of you earlier today. "yeah, i guess we can. we can say it’s another coincidence, and blame it on fate".

"i'll drink to that, ricciardo".

[cherrydreamer]

Ok, I'm having thoughts about S3 and a freshly possessed Billy who doesn't know what's happening to him but he knows it's something bad. He's waking up covered in blood and he's having all these weird nightmares and flashes of memory and he doesn't know what the fuck is happening, he doesn't understand, but he knows he's hurt someone and he knows it's going to happen again.

So he decides to go to the police. It goes against everything he believes, but he's a monster, right? He needs locking up. Putting down. At least then people will be safe. At least then he won't hurt anyone else.

So, in one of his rapidly decreasing lucid periods, he goes to the station. And he gets lucky. Because the air con is broken and the station is hot, stiflingly so. And it's just enough to weaken the Flayer and keep it at bay long enough that Billy gets a chance to talk to Hop who, at first, is happy enough with any excuse to get this punk kid behind bars. Teach him a lesson. Put him in his place. And at first he assumes that Billy's half sobbed, half screamed ramblings are something to do with drugs, some bad trip or something.

But then Billy talks about the shadow. And Hop really starts to listen. And he starts to worry. But he also starts to make a plan. Cause this Hargrove kid is a dick, that much is true, but he doesn't deserve this. No one does and, hey, they got this thing outta one kid, right? They can definitely do it again.

So Hop tries, by himself. He tells Billy's it's gonna be OK, that he's going to be fine, that it's not going to be pleasant, but they'll get this out of him, and that he needs to keep fighting, as much as he can, keep fighting, kid, with whatever you've got. You're gonna be OK.

And Hop just about manages to get Billy locked up and restrained in a cell, but he can see that it's a close thing; the kid is losing control and the thing is fighting back, and Hop remembers what Joyce told him about how they helped save Will, so he knows about cranking up the heat and talking through good memories, and he can do the first thing, sure, but he's kinda drawing a blank on the second. He barely knows Billy, beyond the trouble he's caused, most of Hop's interactions have involved issuing him yet another speeding ticket or seeing the tail end of the Camaro roaring away from a house party he's been sent to shut down, and Hop's pretty sure that kind of experience isn't gonna help him here. He knows he's gonna need some help from someone who actually knows Billy.

So Hop tries and tries, but he can't get hold of Max, and he can tell by the yells and the banging coming from the cell that he doesn't have long, so he calls the only other person he can think of. He calls Steve Harrington. And he knows that Steve and Billy didn't exactly have the best history, but Hop also knows that, along the way, something changed. He knows that Harrington's been in the passenger seat a couple of those times when Hop pulled Billy's car over, and he's pretty sure he's seen that same car parked up around Loch Nora.

So, it's a gamble, but he's got nothing else.

And Steve comes in. Hop's barely even started explaining the situation before Steve's agreeing to help, telling Hopper that he doesn't know Billy that well, not really, but he'll give it a shot, sure, and before Hopper can even warn him to be careful, Steve pulls up a chair right next to the cell door and starts to talk.

And it's not exactly groundbreaking, what Steve says, there's nothing big or emotional. He starts with, "Hey dude, you remember that game last month? The one against Westfield? You remember how we absolutely smashed them? The two of us and that whole, like, tag team play you came up with? Damn, man, that was awesome! They did not see that coming!" and then he's rambling about some time in the parking lot when Billy caught him singing along to a Queen song on the radio and, instead of mocking him, Billy joined in with his own air guitar solo before smirking and walking away. There are other things too, little in-jokes and references that Hopper can't make head nor tail of, smattered with advertising jingles and terrible impressions of people that apparently mean something to the both of them.

It's not much, not really. But that doesn't seem to matter.

Because it's working. Despite them being tiny things, all of Steve's little stories are having an effect.

Billy's fighting.

There are tears pouring down his cheeks and his nails are digging into his thighs hard enough to draw blood, but his eyes are fixed on Steve's and Hop can see how damn hard he's fighting.

And, this time, he's winning.

[sweepweep]

@bonsaa actually asked for me to continue my Kamukura Project ramblings and I’ve never been more thrilled, this gives me a great excuse to continue.

Continuing with the idea of how marvelously fucked up the Project was in the first place: the project was sketchy from the start. For one, I’m pretty sure Hajime’s parents were NOT aware of it at all. If they were, they either would’ve 1: signed Hajime away to it, not giving him a choice. Or 2: disagreed with it and also would’ve not given him the choice. The fact that the chairman ASKED Hajime whether or not he’d come to a decision shows this.

There was also the fact that whatever Hajime signed was a blatant lie. Going into the building after he’d agreed to it, Hajime says that he’ll become someone Chiaki could be proud of, someone with a talent. He was convinced that HE would be coming out of it, same person, same personality, just with a talent. If he was told that he would’ve been erased, he wouldn’t have done it. Why? Because if he came out a different person, the whole “Chiaki can be proud of” thing would be for nothing.

So of course, now we’re at the point and time for the start of the surgeries. Izuru has super strength and super speed. That has to have been given to him while he was still Hajime. Because if they created Izuru with average human abilities, THEN given him speed and strength, Izuru would’ve figured out what he was before the scientists got a chance to use him as intended. Just imagine that. Hajime is told he’ll be going into the first surgery to get a talent. He comes out of it and now has to function in a completely different and strange body. He goes to pick up a fork to eat and accidentally mangles it. That sounds like an exaggeration, but Izuru threw Junko and Mukuro across the room by flicking his wrist. Izuru was “born” with abilities like that so it would’ve been normal to him. Hajime on the other hand, then would’ve had to adapt from what he was used to.

And you can’t just erase someone’s entire existence in one surgery. The scientists and doctors probably cut off all of his contact with the world so that he didn’t have any reminder of who he was. They probably referred to him as Izuru Kamukura throughout the process to condition his mind to respond as if it was his name. On that note, Izuru was described as a “super weapon” and a “tool for hope”. That is objectification. The scientists probably didn’t consider Hajime or Izuru human. I can imagine they referred to him as an object, not only so that Izuru would think of himself as a weapon for Hope’s Peak (sure that was a lot of it), but also to clear their own consciousnesses. It would’ve been a lot easier for them to think about preforming a lobotomy on a non-human object than on a person.

And of course we all saw the room Izuru was kept in. They probably kept Hajime in the same room so that 1: he didn’t have any self-reminders. And 2: so that Izuru would be more likely to consider it his room when he was created. We saw from Chiaki’s death scene that Izuru kept some of Hajime’s feelings, so if Izuru considered that empty box his room, he’d be less likely to want something more habitable, as he’d be used to it.

And when it comes to the surgical procedures themselves, I did a little digging on sedatives. Just going to start off by saying that Hope’s Peak probably didn’t fully sedate him, in hopes of increasing pain tolerance. But what I found, was that many even heavily sedated patients are award of their surroundings. It’s recommended people talk to them because they can hear and comprehend what they are hearing. The only issue being, they can’t respond. Now when working with sedated patients, the doctors will close the patient’s eyes and put something over them. If you look at Hajime just as he’s going into the final surgery, his eyes are not covered. He was probably listening and seeing as the doctors spoke about what they planned on doing. And while it would’ve gotten fuzzy when they started on his brain, sedated patients have spoken about how they remember a lot, but just chalked it up to a vivid hallucination or nightmare. So Izuru would’ve retained a lot of that.

Keeping with the topic of sedation and awareness, we’re going to circle back to the muscle and body modifications Hajime would’ve had to go through. Everyone talks about his main lobotomy scar on his head, but Izuru came out of everything super strong and fast. Post-Neo World Hajime wouldn’t have just had a scar wrapping around his head, but so many along every muscle in his body. Reminder that Izuru took down the SHSL Soldier with a wrist flick. Imagine the modifications that would’ve had to have been done to allow him to do that. Post-Game Hajime would’ve had scars all over his body, accompanied by memories of the slicing done to get them.

Now during the surgery, once Hajime realized that they planned on erasing him, or even when they cut off his contact with everything and everyone he knew, he would’ve tried to fight back. He fought the Ultimate Boxer as a Reserve Course Student. Being even stronger (and knowing that) he wouldn’t have wanted to stick around for long, so why not use his new strength to just fight his way out. The scientists would’ve known about this and put him on a crap ton of mood-changers to keep him remotely cooperative. His food was probably drugged left and right, and that along with the entire project would’ve led to a truck-load of trust issues that would take years to undo.

Thanks for listening to my hyperfixated ramble. I wish I could finish my WIPs with this kind of dedication.

Original post

[mosquito-queen]

ronance greek au 

athanasia (nancy) is a priestess of athena, she has a particular connection with some of the kids that come by the temple and often saves her offerings to feed them. ofc max is one of these kids that shows up out of the blue (we just moved here), and she especially likes to follow nancy around while she’s working, “you mean, you get to perform the sacrifices? can i help?”

nancy grows more fond of the girl, but fate always seemed close behind max. of course max befriends the group of kids with a demigod in their midsts and nancy can’t help but pray a little harder to athena for the girl’s protection. the group of kids manage to offend the fates and the keres descend upon max, they only manage to rip half her soul before el fights them off

bloodied and battered, max falls into a deep sleep and cannot be waked by mortal means. nancy is asked to perform her funeral rites and she refuses, “no, she isn’t dead yet. i’ll get her back.”

she prays again to athena, asking for guidance, for anything, to retrieve the half of max’s soul from the underworld. she searches the temple’s libraries well into the first light of dawn, until she comes across an ancient script that she hasn’t seen before, but she can’t read it

enter robin (a nickname she earned at birth from one of brothers). she is the youngest of five older brothers, she sneaks into their school lessons to learn as much as she can. she’s fluent in several languages and helps her father with his job as a merchant. she’s planning on going with him to a neighboring town when she starts getting weird dreams

she goes on the trip with her father, but is distracted by an owl that is uncharacteristically out during the day, she follows it to a temple, so engrossed that she stumbles into the temple’s priestess (who is very grumpy because has not slept more than 6 hours in three days)

after some introductions and rambling apologies, robin stoops to pick up the scroll that fell to the ground, she squints at it before nancy can snatch it back, “athena has a sword?” “wait, what? you can read that?” “i can read phoencian, persian, and akkadian. this though? minoan? no.” nancy’s face starts to fall and something in robin says ‘do not disappoint her’ so she rushes quickly, “but hey! i’ve got a really good knack with this kind of stuff. and i knew the sword part, look i can figure this out. i can, i ca-” 

and robin does figure it out. she makes up an excuse to stay longer at the temple, combing through the other pages stuffed away in the library, “it’s something about athena’s sword having the power to cut down the keres and thanatos,” she pauses, a seriousness on her face that looks out of place, “nancy, why do you want to know about killing death?”

so they go and find athena’s sword and fall in love a little bit on the way, and nancy talks about max, and she blames herself, and she blames the gods, and she has such a deep sorrow in the pit of her stomach but robin can’t help but see how beautiful she is, “We’ll get her back, I promise.”

and they get the sword with some trials and tribulations, nancy wields it as they go the long way to the underworld. “she’ll be in the river styx, not yet passed over, she should stand out with only half a soul.” and they have to slink through the cover of shadows, nancy squeezing tight to robin’s hand, “you can do this” because robin has never been sure-footed to save her life (but she’s not saving her life. she’s saving max’s and in a way nancy’s)

and when nancy sees the copper tint of max’s hair in the river, she doesn’t think and plunges in. she sees her fading soul and the sword clatters to the bank of the river. the hands of the dead hungrily digging into the threads of her cloak as she pushes her towards max. the hands are dragging her down though, the water now at her shoulders as she grabs the limp, faded form of max, scooping her towards her chest.

suddenly the hands are gone, and nancy is able to stand, picking max up with her as she turns to head back to the banks, the water back at her waist. and it’s robin there, with the sword, cutting the greedy dead away from nancy and max. it’s robin, so clumsy, so unsure, never holding a sword in her life, had freed her. shock freezes nancy (it wasn’t the sword athena had sent, it was robin), and robin is nodding her head reassuringly, “go” is a chorus that keeps spilling from her mouth, “nancy, go!” and they are stumbling out of the river, stumbling back into the dark, and away from the underworld, the shrill call of the keres growing louder with each footfall.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Breath of the Sky Ch 13 (Skyward Sword meets BotW)

Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing chosen hero is.

AO3 link

Chapter 13 - The Failure

They needed to talk. They needed to plan.

Despite the overwhelming despair and uncertainty, despite the fear and pain, Zelda found herself growing motivated the longer she held the princess. She felt the fire returning, the stubborn determination that made a goddess let herself die and be reborn, the steadfastness that pushed her to seal herself away for thousands of years, the protectiveness that had led to the creation of Skyloft.

And so, after wiping the princess’ tears, Zelda had told her they were going to talk to Link. Both of them.

The champion had been easy to locate. He had been hovering outside, trying his best to look calm but easily giving away his concern with the way his eyes lingered too long on the princess, the speed at which he walked to her. Zelda had explained quickly that they needed to find her Link next, and they set about that goal quickly.

The conviction of a goddess mixed with the nervousness of a teenager, though, and Zelda fell into her habit of worrying when it concerned those she cared about… particularly Link.

“Okay,” she said as she marched ahead, nearly dragging the other two with her. “Okay. So. The plan—the plan is to seal him away. We can sort out killing him after. We can do that. We just need to figure out what’s going on with your ability to seal him away. And you—” here she turned to the champion, finger pointing with enough ferocity to be a dagger “You get to kick his ass, but I’m helping do that too because I want to punch his stupid face. I’m sure Link—my Link—uh, Cloud can help with that too, but we need to find him. This is just—this is fine. This is fine. We don’t need the Triforce yet, it’ll be okay. This is fine.”

The look exchanged between the princess and the champion implied that her ramblings were not, in fact, fine, but Zelda ignored it.

Her anxious energy began to grow frustrated as they wandered the castle. Link’s plight of constantly chasing her down was becoming extremely relatable at the moment. As they rounded yet another corner, Zelda felt relief at seeing a familiar colorful uniform with sandy blonde hair peeking out of the navy blue cap.

“Excuse me!” Zelda called, running towards the familiar guard. He genuflected when he turned and saw her. “Have you seen Link? My Link?”

“I know his location, Your Grace,” he answered. “I was actually heading his way. Would you like me to take you to him?”

Given all the information she’d been dealing with, and given all the running around she’d already done, the sheer comfort and happiness at not only hearing that someone could help her locate her husband, but that it was the one person who reminded her of Impa, made Zelda laugh and fall to her knees to be at eye level with the guard. She hugged him tightly. “Thank goodness! Thank you so much, I would love that!”

The guard stiffened under her hold, just as Impa had the first time she’d hugged her, but she didn’t care. Goddesses she needed some kind of stable rock to rely on in this place, and she didn’t have one, but this guard came close. She saw the reflection of the window ahead of her that he was looking at the princess and the champion, the former holding a hand over her mouth to cover a gasp while the latter watched the guard worriedly.

Honestly, these people. How did any society develop to be so emotionally stifled, anyway?

“I need to teach all of you that hugs are a good thing, good grief,” she chuckled as she pulled away. “But anyway, please do show us where Link is.”

The guard took a deep breath, nodding and rising. He guided them in silence, though the sights of the castle kept Zelda preoccupied – they were heading somewhere she hadn’t been yet, and though the stone walls all blended into each other to create a massive maze, she saw light from outside and grew hopeful. It seemed Link, just like her, didn’t care for being cooped up in this stone prison of sorts, as beautiful as it was.

Zelda had to admit that, though she wanted to help her people grow on the Surface, she was a child of the Sky nonetheless.

They wandered a path that seemed vaguely familiar from their expedition into the nearby large town, though the guard guided them down a road that Link and Zelda had pointedly avoided due to the place flooding with people. Eventually, they wound up near a tower farthest from the castle, overlooking a good portion of land and the town below. The sun was high in the sky now, and Zelda turned to the guard as they approached the tower.

“Is there somewhere we can get food in town?” she asked. She was well aware the castle had food too, but she… didn’t want to go back there.

“We can arrange to have lunch brought to you here, if you wish,” the guard replied. “But yes, there are many places in Castle Town where you can get food.”

Upon their arrival to the structure, the guard dismissed the two colorfully clad knights who had been standing post in the entranceway. He turned to face the group. “The Hero is inside, Your Grace. I’ll ensure no one enters.” His gaze moved beyond her, settling on the champion, and he spoke with a softer tone, “When time allows, Link, Princess Mipha wished to speak with you.”

With that, the knight moved aside to let them pass, standing guard. Zelda looked back at the other two, temporarily distracted—was there another princess? Did Princess Zelda have a sister that they hadn’t met yet? She shook her head, returning her focus to the task at hand. She could only gather so many people together at once, after all. It had taken half the day just to get to this point.

Motioning to the two behind her, she walked into the cavernous structure, hearing Link’s footsteps scraping the stone up above. They climbed a ladder to reach the upper level, the bright daylight dazzling Zelda’s eyes for a moment, and she saw the silhouette of her husband pacing back and forth, clearly agitated.

“Link,” she called with a smile, relieved they were all finally together. Her smile fell, however, at the distressed look on her husband’s face.

Link froze, facing away from her, holding himself with trembling hands. She approached him slowly, worry eating away at her already weary heart. When she was close enough to touch him, she wrapped her arms slowly around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. “What’s the matter, Dove?”

Link felt tense under her arms, but then he draped his arms over hers and squeezed her wrists lovingly, stroking her hands with his thumbs. She shifted so she could stand beside him, peeking around his arm with a curious glance. His expression was soft, enchanted by what he saw, but his eyes were dark and stormy. He glanced at her, his heavy brow relaxing a little. “We started all this.”

There was wonder and a quiet timidity to his voice, awe and disbelief and acceptance settling into him. Zelda squeezed him reassuringly, cocking her head to the side and giving him a soft smile. “Yeah. We did.”

Link let out a shaky breath, and then he let her go, looking down. Zelda’s arms fell to her sides, and she grew worried as she watched him ruminate.

His mouth became a thin line. “And I… I screwed it all up. I cursed everything, everyone. I cursed them.”

“Link,” Zelda said, caught off guard. Although the guilt was gnawing at her as well, she wasn’t entirely blaming herself in such a manner. Demise had outplayed them, and it made her angry and scared and mournful, it made her question how they could actually defeat him if she hadn’t been able to as a goddess or with the Triforce, but she’d still placed the majority of the blame on the demon king himself, not her or Link. Her husband’s worries were clearly eating him alive. He hadn’t even noticed that they weren’t alone.

“Don’t,” Link immediately hissed, growing stormy. “Don’t even try it. You did everything right, you did your part, you trusted me to finish things and I didn’t.”

“What are you talking about?” Zelda asked, putting a hand to his cheek. “Link, you defeated him. We had no way of knowing—”

“I did,” Link spat, pulling out of her reach and turning away, his hands shaking as he clenched his fists. His shoulders hunched and his entire body was so tense it was ready to snap. “He said it himself. I thought—I was such an idiot, Zelda, I—I thought—he started speaking about how his hatred would follow my spirit and your bloodline, and it sounded like the dying words of a monster, I—I didn’t realize it was a promise, a curse, that he was—I didn’t—I d-didn’t—”

Link’s body stiffened even further as shuddering gasps and hiccups interrupted his words, and he bowed his head, hugging himself. Zelda immediately rushed around him to face him fully once more, dragging him into the tightest hug she could muster, willing all of her love into it as her mind whirled.

“You had no way of knowing,” she repeated as she processed what he’d said. What promise was he speaking of? Did it even matter? “And who’s to say it was a curse right in that moment? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have happened whether he spoke it or not? Who’s to say there was any stopping it? Link, I was a goddess. I was a goddess and I couldn’t stop him. You did everything you were meant to do – you solved the puzzles, you tempered the Goddess Sword and made it into the Blade of Evil’s Bane, you traveled through time, you got the Triforce and used it to kill him. You beat him. It was Ghirahim who screwed everything up.”

Ghirahim. It was Ghirahim.

Was that truly why they were in this mess? The realization struck her as she spoke the words, because they were true – she’d exited her slumber because Demise had been killed, after all. Ghirahim was the one who sabotaged it, but Link had ensured that…

“What exactly did he say?” she asked, pulling away to look her husband in the eye.

“He said… he said his hatred never dies. That it would be born again and again, that those who share the blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero would forever be bound to this curse: an incarnation of his hatred would follow our kind forever, dooming them to darkness and bloodshed.” Link said slowly, refusing to look at her.

Zelda stared at him, dumbfounded. Why… why hadn’t he ever mentioned this before?

As if reading her mind, he stepped away from her, shaking his head and saying, “I—I thought—he was defeated, Zel, I stabbed him in the chest, I thought it was over. The amount of times Ghirahim would give some speech or another despite being defeated, the words were meaningless at that point. Just some other enemy spouting hatred while he bleeds to death. The sword… Fi told me to raise the sword, that it would absorb the remaining evil, that she would seal him away as designed. I didn’t—I didn’t realize—what did I do wrong?”

The trembling of his tone tore at her heart, and Zelda tried to walk towards him again. She couldn’t fathom why Link wouldn’t have mentioned this, but at the same time, his words made sense—and brought so many more questions to mind. How many times had he fought Ghirahim, anyway? The more she considered it, the more she realized she hadn’t really asked much about his adventure. Their time after that journey had been spent recovering and then pointedly avoiding the topic altogether.

Goddesses above, this was all a mess.

“Impa was right,” Link said suddenly, his voice no longer trembling, but so, so dark. “You were wrong. Hylia was wrong. I’m no Hero. Even Fi has decided that! She already chose a successor, after all.”

“Link,” Zelda tried to argue, immediately growing agitated. This sort of talk wasn’t going to do them any good, and she hated seeing him like this. “This isn’t—I know—”

Link’s eyes narrowed at her as if she were an enemy. The look stole her voice from her throat and made her blood freeze. She’d never seen Link this upset. “Yes, you know. Your Grace knows everything. You always did, stringing me along without ever telling me everything until it was too late to even stop you from—from—How does it feel to not have all the pieces until it’s too late? You were wrong.”

Zelda took a step back, her breath sucking in like a gasp as if she’d just been smacked. Link sighed, sensing the change in atmosphere, immediate regret flashing across his face before he finally seemed to notice the other two, who at this point were practically trying to disappear into the walls.

Link’s eyes fixed on the champion, and then he shook his head. The fight quickly drained out of him, but so did any desire to continue talking. He moved quickly towards one of the openings and leapt out of it. Zelda didn’t follow.

The champion ran across the way to peer over where Link had jumped. The princess slowly walked towards Zelda, who was still trying to catch her breath.

There was silence for a long time as the princess hovered near her, as she tried to catch her breath, as Link’s words played over and over in her head.

“Your Grace…?” The princess began hesitantly, a tenderness and shyness to her voice.

Zelda burst into tears.

You always did, stringing me along without ever telling me everything until it was too late.

Guilt sprang forth anew, revitalized by her husband’s accusations, having been squished again and again by both her and Link. It reared its ugly head, reminding her that the fact that Link had been dragged into all of this was very much her fault. Despite being the best fighter among the knights of Skyloft, Link was a softhearted young man through and through. She should have never—but—what choice did she—

Zelda continued to cry, bending over and hugging herself and falling to her knees. Her hiccups and sobs echoed in the area, lost to her own whirling mind but very much laying heavily on the other two occupants.

Link, Champion of Hyrule, felt very much out of place. But he also felt very desperate to try and help. He made his way to the goddess, crumpled on the floor, and his heart hurt to see her like that. He knelt carefully, gently resting a hand on her shoulder, desperately looking at the princess for help.

His own mind was whirling as much as everyone else’s likely was. The words that had been spat out by the Hero of Myth and Legend no longer held the same sting to them. Instead, they rang with such a heartbreaking familiarity, all the way down to the misplaced vitriol.

Zelda. He’d sounded like Zelda.

Never in his life had Link considered that if he ever met the Spirit of the Hero, it would act exactly as his dejected princess did.

He wanted nothing more than to reassure the weeping goddess that it wasn’t her fault at all, just as it wasn’t his fault that Zelda struggled to fulfill her destiny while his came easily. He wanted to tell her that the Hero just needed time and help, just as his princess did. But he was in absolutely no position to do so – he didn’t know what words he could say to reassure Hylia herself, nor could he brainstorm such a conversation with the princess as she herself was just as much a culprit of such behavior as the Hero was. Though, to her credit, she was trying to improve that, hence their budding friendship. But…

Desperate, Link looked pleadingly at Zelda, motioning to the goddess with his head. Do something.

The princess held her hands in front of her chest anxiously, one hand playing with the her wrist. “Your Grace… I… I’m sure he didn’t…”

Hylia continued to cry, not acknowledging either of them. At least she wasn’t upset that Link was touching her. He really wished he could do more.

Link thought of suggesting that they get lunch, but he had a feeling his own love for food would not help the matter. Hylia didn’t seem like the thought of a delicious meal would cheer her up.

The champion was quickly running out of ideas, just as his friend seemed equally clueless. However, Zelda finally knelt down as well, ignoring the dirt she was getting on her dress, and placed her hand on Hylia’s other shoulder. “Your Grace, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Hylia glanced up, eyes puffy, tears staining her flushed cheeks. It was… not a look Link would expect from a goddess.

He supposed he had never thought a goddess could get upset like this. He remembered her radiant smile and eagerness to befriend earlier in the day, and his heart ached even more.

He opened his mouth to speak, but still found himself choking on words. He didn’t know what he could say to help her, what would be appropriate, what would be helpful. Hylia’s gaze was fixed on the princess instead, and Link hesitantly pulled away to give the two some space. Zelda’s eyes quickly darted to his, pleading for support, but he didn’t know what to do.

Hylia stole Zelda’s attention anyway as she hiccupped and shook her head, her gaze dropping to the floor again as she squeezed her eyes shut. The princess shuffled a little closer. Link stepped further away, trying to figure out how he could help, what he could do. He could at least maybe get them some food, giving Hylia and her descendant time to regain composure, and then he could help them in that regard.

Sliding down the ladder, Link continued to hesitate as he dragged his feet to the exit of the guard house. His father was surprisingly missing, despite having been standing guard, leaving Link a little disappointed. He doubted his father could give him advice on the matter, but it would have been nice to at least see him. Instead, Link fumbled to follow through on his decision, feeling like it wasn’t helpful but not knowing what else to do.

“Oh, Link! There you are!”

Startled, Link turned to see his friend, Mipha, approaching, looking relieved. She smiled, red scales glowing in the noon sun, and Link felt like he was drowning in the ocean and just finally saw a lighthouse guiding him.

Link strode up to her immediately, hands gesturing frantically with words he couldn’t piece together, and his friend quickly noticed his distress. “Link, what’s wrong?”

“He—she—” Link spat out, his chest about to burst, trying desperately to hold the words in but unable to do so. He wasn’t sure this was appropriate to share, but by the goddesses he needed to say something. “He’s just like Zelda.”

The words flew out of his mouth like an arrow released from a bow, and he nearly collapsed onto the nearest bench, overwhelmed and exhausted at holding it in for so long, at the sheer relief that nearly drowned him and screamed he doesn’t actually hate me. Mipha slowly sat beside him, watching him hesitantly. He shook his head, leaning over until his face was buried in his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well…” Mipha said slowly. “You… could start by telling me what you mean.”

Oh. He supposed she needed context.

“The Hero,” he started slowly. “He… feels bad about himself. Like… like the princess. But he… and Hylia… he made… she’s crying, and I…”

Mipha jumped a little. “Hylia’s crying?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Link shook his head. “Mipha, what am I supposed to do?”

“Why is she crying?” Mipha asked.

“She—he—” Link stopped himself and took a breath to reorganize his thoughts. “The Hero. He… he got upset. Really upset. Like… remember when I… when I mentioned… I mean, you kind of dragged it out of me, but…”

Mipha, bless her, remained patient, knowing how Link could struggle to express himself. He’d barely spoken to anyone these last few months, but he’d finally started opening back up to his friend, even if it was just a little. She was the only one who knew that Zelda had yelled at Link in their first weeks together, although the other Champions had clearly sensed the tension.

“He got angry at her,” Link explained slowly. “He got angry. He’s… he said he was a failure, that he wasn’t worthy of being the Hero of Legend. Mipha, it’s… he sounded just like Zelda. But he… he got angry at Hylia about it, and now she’s crying.”

“Oh, my,” Mipha said softly, hand over her mouth. “I… didn’t realize a goddess could cry. That’s… awful.”

“It is awful,” Link agreed, the words spilling out of him now as his emotions mixed with them. “Mipha, what do I do? How do you cheer up a goddess?”

His friend was quiet for a long time, ruminating the matter. “Well… I suppose the same way you cheer anyone up. She cries just like the rest of us… perhaps she just needs kindness like the rest of us too.”

Link thought about the words, remembering all the rituals they did for the goddess. But then he remembered once, when he was very little, when he’d offered flowers to the goddess statue in Hateno, to the warmth that had filled his heart and soul when he’d done so, to the smile that always pulled at his lips whenever he saw silent princesses ever since.

Silent Princess. Zelda’s favorite flower. It always put a smile on the princess’ face too.

Link’s eyes lingered on the one garden that had tried to cultivate the flower, the only one that had succeeded so far, though herbalists hardly called it a success as only one or two flowers grew from the entire batch, and one was wilting already.

Filled with relief and hope, Link dragged Mipha into a hug. “Thank you.”

His friend was stiff under his embrace, and he felt her heart fluttering against his chest. Suddenly, the embrace felt too intimate, too personal, too close, and Link felt his own cheeks blush as he quickly pulled away. Before either party could speak, he hastily made his way to the flower bed, fingers reaching for the healthier of the two specimens.

“Link, wait, isn’t that endangered—”

The silent princess yielded easily to his fingers as he pointedly ignored how the tips of his ears burned, but as he reoriented to his original excitement, he stared at the beautiful, delicate blue-and-white petals with determination.

He turned and smiled at Mipha, nodding in gratitude, before rushing back to the guard house. By the time he reached the top, Hylia’s sobs had evened out, though she was still crumped on the ground. Zelda was on the floor beside her, arm halfway across her shoulders in a hesitant but heartfelt hug. Link took a steadying breath and walked towards the pair, kneeling in front of them. When the two looked up at him, he offered the flower quietly, eyes trying to convey everything his mouth refused to speak.

Hylia stared at him a moment before her gaze lingered on the flower. She reached out slowly, carefully taking the plant from his grasp and turning it in her own calloused fingers.

Her eyes watered, but a smile pulled at her trembling lips. The heaviness of the air seemed to dissipate, and Link smiled back at her.

“It’ll be all right,” he finally said softly.

“We’re here for you,” Zelda added on, growing bolder. “Just as you are for us, Your Grace. I… I may not… I may not have my powers, but I…”

The princess sighed shakily and continued, “I will still do my duty, and I will support you just as you’re trying to do for us.”

Hylia let out another sob, brow pulling together, but the way her face glowed, the way her cheeks puffed and lips pulled conveyed it for the emotional, relieved laugh that it was.

XXX

Abel supposed it was time to break protocol.

He ignored the anxious words warding him away from his goal as he walked down the stone path towards the city. He could practically hear the drill sergeants from his youth telling him to listen to superiors at all costs, to respect those in charge, to fulfill his duty and never question those above his station.

He could hear his heart telling him to do otherwise, his mind set in stone in his path, his beloved wife encouraging him to keep walking forward.

The Hero of Myth and Legend sat on the wall dividing the castle from Castle Town. Abel leaned against the stone beside him, staring out as the sun began to descend from its zenith.

The Hero glanced at him, startled, and moved to get up, but Abel ordered immediately, “Stay put.”

Oh, how his decades of training balked at ordering such a figure around. But mostly, it felt familiar, like when he was talking to his son. Perhaps the fact that they shared a name and a destiny helped.

The Hero slowly resumed his previous posture, bolstering Abel’s confidence on the matter. Now the captain of the guard just had to figure out what to say.

He’d honestly tried not to listen to the conversations in the guard tower. It wasn’t his business – his son, the princess, the goddess, and the mythical hero were all far above him in importance. Although he would always cherish Link, he respected the role his boy had to play, and he wasn’t going to interfere or be so immature as to eavesdrop on important discussions.

It was hard not to hear it, though, when the Immortal Hero was shouting.

Words of a curse, of a demon king, of blame and failure and guilt – they’d all spilled down into Abel’s ears as easily as rain. And it was hard to get them out of his head once heard.

Abel once again found himself wondering what the benefit was in having heroes so young. He still had plenty of strength and endurance in him at the ripe age of thirty-seven, and he didn’t have the emotional issues he’d had when hew as a teenager. Experience was as good a weapon as any.

Not to mention it assisted in cutting through drama and getting to the heart of the matter.

Of course, it still didn’t prepare Abel for such a conversation. It hadn’t prepared him for any of the conversations he’d had with his son once Hyrule had noticed a Hero had arisen. The words the Hero had hissed rang in his ears once more, thoughts of demon kings hunting down his son buzzing before he pushed them away. His son had been preparing for years had the support of all of Hyrule, and Abel would double his efforts in protecting the castle. This one, on the other hand, was a soldier in an eternal war, and Abel and even Link were simply another battlefield on which he had to fight. It seemed he was only just realizing that too, which was... odd and... heartbreaking.

He really had no frame of reference for this person, young and ancient, magical and so unbelievably normal. But he could speak to what he’d seen, and… he dearly hoped it was enough. He hoped it was enough and would be taken in the right spirit. The fact that the—the boy had listened was a promising start, after all.

“I don’t understand what it could possibly be like, being created by the goddess Hylia for the sole purpose of fighting off a demon king,” Abel started honestly, bluntly. “You look as Hylian as anyone else.”

The Ancient One glanced at him, tired and hurting and confused all at once. “I… I don’t know what that is.”

He didn’t know what a Hylian was? Abel supposed he wouldn’t. He was created to fight. Yet he was just like any other teenager. It still made no sense to the captain, but… a boy was a boy. Abel motioned towards the boy’s ears, small and curved like leaves, unique and honestly a little cute. It had always been said that Hylians’ ears were the way they were to better help them hear the goddess – perhaps his were shaped so differently so only he could hear her whispers, so only he could be privileged to her song. It… honestly made Abel’s skin crawl a little. He wished the Hero didn’t look so young – the thought of a child being molded to fight and married off to the goddess… it felt…

Abel didn’t dare say the sacrilegious word, but the ill feeling in his stomach lingered nonetheless. He tried to remind himself that this strange figure was ancient and not actually a teenager, even if he seemed to act like one.

“Your ears,” he commented. “They’re as Hylian as anyone else’s.”

The Hero instinctively reached up to touch his own ears, staring at Abel with wide, genuinely curious eyes now. The traces of guilt and sorrow were fading away in wake of his bemusement, and in that moment he really, truly looked like a kid.

Abel swallowed, trying to get to his point. “You’re… different, perhaps, but you still seem pretty Hylian to me, if you’ll pardon my ignorance on the matter. And if that is the case… then it seems such pressure that you’re putting on yourself is unrealistic.”

Hylia’s Chosen stiffened, though he didn’t comment.

“Calamity Ganon is a scourge that has plagued this land for millennia,” Abel said carefully. “And each time it has come, it has taken all of Hyrule to fight it. Though the Spirit of the Hero and the power of the Goddess are required to vanquish it, they have never fought alone. It seems… unreasonable to expect any different of yourself.”

The Hero bit his lip, his hands falling to his lap as he looked down. “But I was supposed to.”

“Did you defeat him?” Abel asked.

The Hero glanced at him, and though he held guilt in his gaze, he nodded.

“So you defeated him alone, which no one has ever accomplished before or since then,” Abel pointed out. “Yet you blame yourself for his return? If you fought him before and won, this should be easy, should it not?”

“But I—”

“But what?” Abel pressed on. “You can’t change that he’s here. Only that you’re here to stop him. Are you going to fight him or not?”

The Hero stared at him for a long while, eyes growing weary. Abel recognized the look, the exhaustion of war, the scars hidden within. He faced the boy fully.

“You won’t be alone this time,” he told him firmly. “Link will fight alongside you, as well as all the Champions, the guardians, and Hyrule’s army.”

“Sounds rather like I’m not needed,” the Hero said softly, a sad smile pulling at his lips.

“I am not one to waste resources,” Abel replied perhaps a bit too curtly, but he was tired of the adolescent’s moping. This was what the ancient child had been created for, after all, was it not? “You defeated Calamity Ganon long before any army ever could be raised against him. If you fight alongside our forces, if you support Link, then it makes the likelihood of actually killing it all the higher.”

Hylia’s Chosen perked up at the idea given to him, though he still looked a bit uncertain.

“Will you fight alongside Link?” Abel prompted. “Will you help him? Or are you going to drown in your sorrows instead while the rest of Hyrule tries to fight?”

“I’m the only one who can,” the Hero muttered, eyes darkening once more, shoulders set in resignation. “That’s what he said. That’s… what they always say. It’s my destiny.”

Abel waited, unsure what to say to such a remark. The ancient one’s words held a pain and exhaustion to them, but also a bite, and the captain of the guard was suddenly reminded that he was a nobody speaking to a legend.

The Hero of Myth and Legend stared out at Hyrule, sitting up straighter. “I won’t let him destroy this place. I won’t let him hurt Link, or Zelda. Or the princess. I promise.”

“I thank you for your protection,” Abel said genuinely with a bow of his head, catching the Hero’s attention.

“But I…” the Hero continued hesitantly. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. She’s… I know I upset her.”

Abel hadn’t heard Hylia’s reply to any of the words the Hero had said, but he supposed accusing her of being wrong would be upsetting. She seemed too kind to get angry, though, and the hurt on the magical boy’s face implied it as well.

Well. This was certainly a topic he could relate to. He was rather short tempered compared to others, after all. “We’re not perfect, Hero. We will say things that hurt those we love. What matters is that we apologize for them.”

Hylia’s Chosen watched him with a look so eerily similar to Link’s own when his son had been younger—so eager for wisdom from his father, so desperate for guidance—that it almost made Abel falter. Then the boy sighed and nodded in agreement.

Abel smiled as best he could. “Now, I believe Her Grace is waiting for you, great Hero. And if I may be so bold as to say… as a married man, I advise you be quick – our wives don’t like to wait for long.”

The smile that broke out on the Hero’s face was unexpectedly soft and sweet, his eyes glittering as if he was coming back to life, and the Immortal One leapt off the wall, much to Abel’s shock. The captain reached out hastily before seeing the Hero deploy some sort of paraglider, and he sighed heavily, realizing that now he had yet another hero who was going to give him heart attacks on a regular basis.

Oh, how he wished he could hold his son in that moment. But duty called, and he had strayed from it for long enough.

XXX

Admittedly, despite how his heart warmed at the thought of being with Zelda again, Link felt guilt crushing him the closer he got back to the structure he’d run from.

He knew what he’d said was hurtful. He’d chosen his words very particularly so that they would sting. He hadn’t wanted Zelda’s reassurances because he’d known they’d be empty, and suddenly hurt and resentment that had been long forgotten and shoved into the dark recesses of his mind had snarled into the light.

Link was ashamed to even get near his beloved. But he’d be damned if he didn’t own up to it.

And he missed her. He missed her smile, he missed her warmth, he missed her embrace. He was drowning and he wanted nothing more than to hold on to her. He supposed after what he’d said earlier it was a selfish thought at this point, but… if there was one constant in his life, no matter the storm, it had always been her.

He wasn’t going to be the one to lose her again. He wasn’t going to be the one to push her away.

The walk felt like it took an eternity, even though it was only a few minutes. Link hesitantly stared at the ladder leading up to the top, and then he climbed it, steeling himself.

When he got to the top, he found only a couple guards.

Link didn’t bother to speak with them, sliding down once more, and nearly jumped out of his skin as he was met with one of the stranger looking people from the festival. Their skin was red and shimmering, eyes nearly the same shade of amber as the crystal that had held Zelda in a trance for millennia. Their fingers were delicate but held sharp claws, and a blue sash was the only clothing they wore, though their body was adorned in glimmering jewelry.

“Hello, Hero,” the person said in a soft, feminine tone.

Wait, he’d seen her before. She had been sparring with the new Hero that morning.

“Do you—do you know where Zelda is?” he asked quickly, nearly laughing at the irony of such a question given his history with it.

“The princess is with Her Grace and Sir Link,” the woman answered. “They decided to head out into Hyrule Field, I believe. They were going to pick up lunch on the way.”

Hyrule Field? “Where’s that?”

The woman pointed back to the direction where he’d just come from. “It’s just beyond Castle Town. If I were them, I would go to the Sacred Grounds. It’s a pleasant place for a picnic. It’s close to the center of Hyrule Field, you can’t miss it. Would you… like me to take you there?”

Out of a nearly gone habit, Link nearly said no, as if he would find it on his map and could dowse for Zelda beyond that. Goddess. He shook his head, and then hastily said, “Yes, please.”

The strange looking woman—girl? Woman??—smiled and asked him to walk with her. Link tried to ignore the people staring at them as they progressed, feeling the number of eyes on them grow as they entered the big town he and Zelda had explored a few nights ago.

The joy of that exploration felt so far away now. He felt so empty, so unbelievably alone. But the guard had promised he wasn’t, and he…

He just wanted to go home. But it was just like his original journey, wasn’t it? He hadn’t wanted the weight of the world on his shoulders then. He’d just wanted to find Zelda. Headmaster Gaepora had said that the destiny of the world was his to bear, and his alone. No one could know.

Just as now, it was his destiny to fight Demise once more. But… the guard had said it himself.

Link wasn’t alone. Even if he deserved to be, after somehow managing to mess this up.

He would be alone if he continued to push everyone away, though, and he knew it. He remembered just after the world had nearly ended, remembered how isolated he was, and how Zelda had been the only one who could reach him in those dark moments.

Link hardly noticed that they’d reached the fields, hardly noticed that the woman he was with kept glancing at him to make sure he was okay. She seemed to understand he didn’t want to talk and was somehow blessedly fine with it, making the occasional remark about the weather or anything else to ensure it didn’t get too awkwardly quiet.

The awkwardness did linger, though, when Link realized he didn’t know her name. When she stopped and pointed straight ahead, he said, “Thank you… I… didn’t get your name.”

The woman’s eyes widened, suddenly embarrassed. “O-oh! I’m—I’m so very sorry, I—my name is Mipha, Princess of the Zora. I beg your pardon for my lack of manners!”

Another princess? Link stared at her, curious, but then smiled. “Thank you, Mipha.”

The woman’s shame faded, and she nodded, heading back towards Castle Town. Link took a fortifying breath and walked towards the Sacred Grounds. The trees hid some of the area and his approach, allowing him to see the new Hero sitting on the ground alongside Zellie and his wife. His successor was eating away cheerily, garnering a chuckle from Zellie, and Zelda… picked at her food quietly. She smiled when acknowledged, but didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.

Link wanted to kick himself. He also kind of wished the other two weren’t there.

Miraculously, Zelda alone seemed to notice his approach. She paused from holding her food, watching him with a little trepidation. Her eyebrows wrinkled together, and the hurt and worry on her face made Link want to melt into the earth. Zellie seemed to notice something was up, but before she could speak, Zelda rose and walked slowly in his direction.

She paused just out of his reach, and the pair watched each other quietly. A wind stirred between them, trying to push Link away, and he nearly gave in to it, shaking like a leaf.

“Link…?” Zelda called quietly, almost timidly.

Link wasn’t sure if it was the stress of everything catching up to him again, or if it was the way his own wife was scared to approach him as if he were shatter or explode on her… all he knew was that he was crying.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately said, shaking his head, taking a frightened step away. “I’m sorry, Zelda, I’m sorry I’m sorry—”

Zelda’s eyes widened, and she immediately covered the ground between them, nearly tackling him in a hug, carrying him with strong but trembling arms, easing him down to the earth as the world spun around him. He couldn’t get anything else out aside from apologies that stumbled over each other, words only stopping when he hiccupped or gasped for air, his tears endlessly staining her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, tightening her hug.

“No it’s not!” Link sobbed. “None of it is, I’m so sorry, I’m—”

Again and again the apologies came forth until he’d exhausted himself, until he found himself clinging to her with as much desperation as he had when she’d awoken from her trance months ago.

He heard Zelda take a shaky breath, her exhale tickling his ear. “I am too.”

The words were raw, the sentiment so genuine it ached. Link didn’t have the emotional energy to reply, couldn’t defend her after trying so many times to reassure her and then eating his own words due to his outburst. He had nothing left to offer except himself, broken and worthless and idiotic as he was, and he just held her all the more.

The sun shone brightly on the pair as the other two slowly rose and watched in silence.

[2af-afterdark]

(Excuse me, this shall be a ramble)

So, I was playing WHB before an exam this morning, and I started going through the opinions area to like a few comments and get a few extra gems, and I got to Eligos and saw a couple folks that were surprised about Eligos being a tank/defense demon. And it just kinda occurred to me:

I've never stopped to think about the fact that Eligos is tank/defense before.

Like, he looks like such an adorable and not at all beefy twink, his design absolutely doesn't scream tank. At all. Especially not when compared to all the other tank/defense demons. But thinking about it, that's kind of perfect, to me at least.

He's literally the definition of "looks can be deceiving"

For example, a scenario obviously outside of game mechanics:

Imagine being an enemy, you look at a demon like Valefor in his tough and bulky armor and you think, "I need to hit that bitch really hard, like harder than the other ones, cuz he can clearly take a hit"

Then, imagine seeing Eligos, this cutesy-looking scrawny twink of a demon, covered in soft bows and delicate ribbons, with no armor. The first assumption would probably be "Too easy, he probably can't even take a punch". As an enemy, you'd probably attack him like a normal enemy, or maybe not even put as much effort because you assume he's not that tough.

Now imagine being the enemy, taking a half-assed swing at the scrawny guy, slamming your weapon into his stomach. Only for the scrawny guy that you assumed was weak, to take the hit the hit without any difficulty. And then you get punched in the face really hard because you're too caught off guard to swing your weapon again in time.

In short, Eligos doesn't look like the stereotypical defense character, and I think that's absolutely perfect, both in concept and visuals.

(Plus, the idea of something twice Eligos' size trying to punch him, and Eligos just reacting like the giant buff enemy in every hero franchise, the kind where they don't flinch at all and the hero realizes they fucked up before getting hit back, is absolutely hilarious to me)

Personally, I have been a weeb, dork, gamer, nerd since the very moment I was born (grew up in my local sci-fi convention circuit) so the idea of a twink with tank abilities is nothing new to me. Designs are more for fun or, for some parts (like color), are symbolic. Plus, there is the concept of moe, where the gap between a character's looks and personality is part of the appeal.

Eligos is a character who likes being cute and adorable and pampered, but he is also incredibly violent, gluttonous, and tanky. Specifically, he's the kind of tank that takes the hits for his allies, which kind of goes against the idea of wanting to be pampered. It's entirely possible that he leans more naturally toward a tank-like fighting style, and that explains why he wants to be cute and pampered outside of battle. His bottomless stomach could also be explained by him needing all those extra calories in order to prepare for the next time he needs to fight. Or, he has a very high metabolism and that keeps him thin no matter how much he eats.

Eligos is just a very traditional example of gap moe and I love him! I am still hoping for josou seme Eligos, but I doubt we will be getting that.

[adickaboutspoons]

AH hahaha - oh @tvshowspoilers an excuse to ramble about costuming significance? Don't mind if I do, my v. dear.

So going from full gloves to half gloves is something that had me scratching my head too, especially since they were apparently so important to the Krakening that they got a close up during the magic girl transformation sequence. Twice.

From a Doylist perspective, it might just be that they forgot (like the way the Lighthouse painting and the Blackbeard lithograph carried so much narrative weight last season and now are conspicuous for their absence). But if we allow that it was a conscious decision, it’s helpful to look at what full vs. half-gloves represent. Full gloves represent Ed cutting himself off from human connection - the icy detachment of a man determined to wield control with an iron grip. 

Half-gloves, then, represent a tentative willingness to reach out - to touch and be touched - but with a measure of protective cover in place. But whereas in the pre-Krakening, that manifested in Ed making healthy connections - bonding with the crew, allowing himself to become softer, and, of course, falling in love with Stede - in the post-Krakening era, Ed is still reaching out, but as a form of self-harm. It’s all a simulacrum of connection, but specifically engineered to alienate and isolate Ed, and drive the crew’s resentment and fear to eventually culminate in murderous intent. He technically offers the crew sustenance in the form of cake, but it’s not something that would actually nourish them - stimulation in the form of rhino horn and raids, but it’s nothing like enrichment - communication, but only in the form of intimidation. And it’s not just the crew - in a way, Ed is also reaching out to Ned in another bid of passive suicidality - breaking his consecutive raid record while knowing that Ned’s a torturing psychopath in an attempt to goad him into painful and lethal retaliation.

But then we also get no-gloves! The times when Ed is open and unguarded or longing for a genuine connection. We see it in the first season at the French Party Boat where the way to “win” the interaction is by enticing the toffs to find him charming, but ultimately, the real connection he craves happens later with Stede in the moonlight, and then again on the beach when he confesses that Stede makes him happy and kisses him. With the second season, we see it as soon as Ed has recovered from his suicide attempt. In fact, the scene with the bunny goes out of its way to draw our attention to Ed’s bare hands. After being exiled, he is SO desperate for connection, ANY connection, that he latches on to the very first living creature he stumbles across. When the rabbit is so cruelly snatched away, he immediately latches on to Mary and then Annie, even knowing that they are kind of psychos and maybe not the most secure social safety net. But ultimately, it’s once again Stede who offers genuine connection. From then on, Ed is without gloves for the rest of the season, even after he re-dons his Blackbeard leathers.

With the loss of the cravat, I think kind of the opposite is going on. Obviously they remembered it, or they wouldn’t have brought it back just for Ed to put it on when he expected to die. So its removal had to be a conscious choice. Because, the cravat is positively overflowing with tasty symbolism  - it’s the one of the extremely few things of Stede’s that Ed conspicuously chooses to keep and therefore a reminder of the man himself, but during the Kraken transformation, I think Ed keeps it on because it’s a PAINFUL reminder; an albatross around his neck - a noose to steal his very breath. But ultimately, even a painful reminder is a reminder, and he can’t control whether it might sometimes also bring him comfort. So, I think in this case, what we’re looking at is denial as a form of self-harm. We see from his reaction to Izzy in 2x1 that Ed won’t tolerate even oblique references to Stede (“As a crew?”). I think this is indicative of his more generalized approach to the idea - refusing to allow himself (or anyone else) to dwell on Stede. So when we see him dwelling with his dollies, I think that’s the turning point - Ed tipping them overboard is his him making up his mind; a lover’s suicide. And THAT’S why he allows himself to put the cravat back on when he steers them into the storm.

Once he’s reunited with Stede, obviously he doesn’t need a reminder anymore - the man himself is right there. So Ed can let go of the of the negative connotations that go along with the cravat - no more albatross. Just Stede.

[ineffablyendless]

Hot Girl Summer

Inspired by many horny ramblings with @nualaofthefaerie, the one who introduced Nuala to me as an absolutely unappreciated QUEEN in the Sandman and enabled my ImmortalSandflower imaginings. This one's for you, bestie.

Rating: M, bordering E for non-explicit masturbation

Ship: Nuala/Hob Gadling/Morpheus|Dream of the Endless

Tags: Pervy!Morpheus, Masturbation, he's being a real creep about it, pathetic Morpheus, lingerie, CROCHETED lingerie, Hob posts on Instagram like a millennial, please point out typos to me, human!AU, Writer!Morpheus, small business owner Nuala, she goes by Lily, Hob goes by Robbie, Hot Slut Summer, bisexual Morpheus

This time, when he receives the Instagram notification, he is in public.

Specifically, a corner of the party he attends, allegedly, for the anniversary of the joint sister company of the editorial that he frequents for his own published works. His attendance, Lucienne has emphasized throughout the week, had been non-negotiable, if he would choose to continue their services. She can only cover for his absences in the pre-requisite networking companies so much, and as the handler of his routine and appointment, knows he has no excuse nor any other pressing concerns.

The pop-up appears with a discreet buzz. He takes a single glance, shoves it hurriedly back into his blazer pockets and downs the single glass of champagne he has been nursing to himself all night. His heart, which has been ping-ponging between the inadvisable rabbit-foot-paced of anxiety and the sluggishness of utter boredom, jacks up once more in what he recognises-a distinction born from sheer rarity-anticipation. Excitement

It does not take more than a couple of seconds to excuse himself to the men's. He has been detached from the heart of the party on the verge of an hour, and he has gained himself the reputation of an unnapproachable, anti-socialist such so that it is no difficulty to allow him to tear himself away. Internally, he promises Lucienne no more than 2 more hours of this wretched mingling, for when the clock strikes 12, as he locks the stall of the lavishly appointed hall's bathroom behind him.

He takes a few seconds to return his heart rate into something manageable, listening carefully for any other footsteps, before he turns the phone back on and clicks the single-almost deceptively innocent popup.

The image that greets him makes him glad he had the foresight for privacy, and has him muffling his a groan into his fist.

It is a series of 5 images, and in the first was the girl-Lily, he is reliably told to be the pseudonym she answers to online, sat demurely on her knees upon a picnic blanket, in a green glade studded by wildflowers. Her smile is wide and gleeful, arms stretched into the clear summer sky that begs doubt she is indeed in England at all. She shows off, unashamed, the crocheted three-piece set she designed and knits herself, that she sells; a babydoll-styled double strapped bralette with two white strips of lace tied into ribbons, each upon the tops of her breasts (sweet and cute and a perfect mouthful). Lily is a small woman, and her waist-emphasized by the stretch of her thighs are bracketed by some a garter of the same shade of pink, edged with white, and cute-slightly messy-heart rings for the straps clasped to her legs mid-thigh. The final piece- a high-laced thong tied to each side of her adonis belt- is a simple affair, crocheted with a single, tiny tasteful barbie-pink ribbon pinned just beneath her navel.

The first image, Morpheus knows, is the less risque of the rest, and she is only the one of the two constant models of her knitwear. And already, Morpheus is hard enough to pound roofing nails.

When he swipes for the second image, Morpheus groans aloud.

A man, this time; discernible by the handsome cleft upon his stubbled chin goes by Robbie in internet circles-and which may or may not be his real name, never shows his whole face in the photos. In this one, the top half of it has been carefully cropped out yet angled to capture the stream of sunlight east-wise of a quaint kitchen, sat cross-legged upon a wooden chair by a small checkered-top dining table. A white dress shirt is left wholly unbuttoned to show the gold and black two-piece, the colour of honeybees, and his smart trousers unzipped to peek the striped crocheted underwear beneath. It is an aesthetically complicated piece, one of the more complex ones Lily has done by his memory. The bralette is a gold that cups the bottom and top halves of the breast, leaving a small slit in between that might gape wider for a more generous bosom, yet sufficiently tempting as is, and more strings trailing down akin to liquid gold upon each rung of his ribs.

In the third photo is Lily once more, lying in the sun reading an indiscernible book with a large straw hat blocking the back of her head from the sun and the camera, and a predominantly white and green cardigan rucked up from both ends to her middle to show the back of the bralette with its lacey ribbon on its top-centre. The red sun-blush upon her freckled shoulder attests that she has been in the sun for quite some time, and his teeth yearns to bite into the bird bones of her shoulders, and sooth the glare of the sun with his tongue. The back of her underwear can too be clearly inspected, pink and white, the back of her thigh garters each dotted with a single white bow, complimenting her fair skin.

The fourth image is Hob, also showcasing the back view of his two-piece set. He is posed staring out the kitchen window, hands on the counter, sunlight streaming to capture the brown tan of his skin, hairy and broad-shouldered and the perfect ideal of Adonis himself to showcase the full scale of the bralette, and underwear. The former is tied back with a piece of string tied sweetly upon his nape, and another piece that hugs just beneath the wings of his scapula. From the back, the aforementioned golden strings work to emphasize the sharp curve of his waist where it meets the highest of his underwear strings, of which there are four; the second upon his adonis belt, and two more hugging muscular thighs.

(He imagines licking down the trail of each wayward string, cupping his hands as lovingly upon his ass as the crocheted underwear, burying his face between his horseman thighs he brings him to the height of pleasure, imagines the eager trembles and rapturous cries of ecstasy-)

In the fifth and last photo, predictably, both of them, by the side of a private pool. They are each wearing nothing but the marketed crochet lingerie sets, save for Hob who now adorns the wide-brimmed straw hat previously worn by Lily, and hides his face in its shadows. He is half reclined upon a sun lounger, barefoot and arms tucked beneath the back of his head-conveniently angling the shadows of his hat further downwards and hiding all features but the smile and recognizable chin cleft-and showcasing the musculature of his biceps and the curve of his unshaven underarms. His thighs are pressed together and knees brought high to tease the bulge of his groin, lovingly cupped by the stretch of the knitted fabric, and Morpheus thinks, in a fit of violent lust, that he would kill for the privilege of pressing his nose into the welcoming space made beneath his seat.

Lily is bent, only slightly, into the shade of pool canopy above, candy pink sweet lips pursed around a tall straw for a lemonade by Robbie's side. She is damp, perhaps freshly emerged from the pool, and tucking a string of auburn hair-glowing copper-behind her ear. Her face is covered in freckles-angel kisses-as red as the ones upon her shoulder, and her poise is almost candid, far more relaxed to Robbie's clear showmanship. From the pool she has foregone the garters, and her crochet pieces are heavy with moisture, nearly tugged down.

New Hot Girl (gender neutral) Summer pieces! the caption reads. Only two of each piece made, $250 for each set (negotiable). Early bird gets the worm!

HappySummer #Hotgirlsummer #lingerie #crochet #smallbusiness #designsold

I'm going to come in my pants, Morpheus realizes, belatedly, pressing his heel against the obscene bulge of his trousers. It is a distant thought even as he swipes between each of the photosets, savoring each detail; the crease of Lily's thigh, where it meets her generous ass; the veins upon the backs of Robbie's hands, where they grip the edge of the counter; the peek of Lily's nipples as the bralette gets weighed down by the pool water; the large bulge of Robbie's groin, framed by his legs crossed in the kitchen chair. He has the screen of his phone pressed into his temple, the tip of his nose upon the last image as he imagines tasting the sunlight, sweat and chlorine upon their damp skins, the coy flutter of Lily's lashes as he would press adoring kisses down to her sternum, Robbie's deep groan as he would find completion between the press of his horseman's thighs…and with a single, muffled groan from clenched teeth, his pleasure crests, peaks, and his underwear grows warm and damp from orgasm.

As he pants in still, industrial-chemical-scented air of unforgiving reality, he wonders at the patheticness of yearning for two people who don't even know he exists, and would definitely be perturbed by his behaviour for their Instagram modelling photos. It is, nevertheless, he acknowledges bemusedly, an efficient marketing tactic.

He misses the final speeches of the celebration itinerary, but the clock strikes 12 just as he steps into the cab he has called for himself. So, he reasons, he is not QUITE breaking his promise to Lucienne.

It begins to rain. In the backseat of the car, he longs for the summer sun.

[shzmluvrs]

Introvert x Extrovert

Prompt:

Timeline: Whatever you (reader) thinks fits best :)

TW/Content: Tooth-rotting fluffy cuteness⚡️Swearing⚡️Mention of the Breyers (they deserve they own trigger warning ngl💀✋🏽 the actors did they jobs, RESPECTFULLY, cuz I despise them)⚡️Freddy loving you to d e a t h

Reader: Non-specified! Any Pronouns! Shy/Introverted!

Requested by: Anon

Back to Master List

It was a wonder you and Freddy even managed to get together, let alone being able to actually stand each other.

He was boisterous, extroverted, and drew in lots of attention (positive and negative) wherever he went.

You were, natrually, his opposite. Level-headed, introverted, and riddled with anxiety the second confrontation came your way.

But, you know what they say: Opposites attract🤷🏽‍♀️.

Freddy was left astounded and completely :O!! when you first asked him out. Stunned by your attractiveness, reminiscing on all of the times he had seen you in class or around the school, and baffled by how melodic your sweet, quiet voice was to him, he glowed red and was in awe at how you even considered him to be worthy of such a privilege at all; Dating you.

Pfft-! Even more of a shock to him, you asking him out... "YES!" He nearly screamed, which made you jump, but excited and happy nonetheless.

Little did he know, it had taken every single last ounce of courage and determination you had that day just to walk up to him. Shaking and sweating, your heart nearly beating out of your chest as your words trembled once they left your lips.

But none of that mattered now. Er, it did, but only in the best ways, because now he was your boyfriend. And, no matter the differences in personality, he loved you as hard and as much as humanly possible.

Showing you all of his comics and memorabilia is a constant in your relationship. Freddy rambling on and on to you the details of every single item as you took it all in with admiring smiles and laughter. You'd think you'd be used to his touch by now, but with every passing item he wants you to look at goes the brush of your fingertips, and you can't help but get all fluttery and dizzy inside and blushy on the outside each time, to which he casually teases you for.

Walks bring you more of such an experience, though maybe not Freddy's favorite activity outside of superhero form, he disregards that fact simply because he's happy to hold your hand for long periods of time. Enjoys how such a simple act makes your heart swell off the radar, easily letting him know just how much you still love and care for him.

He even tries to tone himself down, knowing how much the attention he sometimes draws in with his loud and silly antics makes you anxious. And though you'd rather your chaotic boyfriend not change himself just to please you, you admit it does ease your nerves knowing you won't have to worry.

Well, of course, sometimes you worry. Like when he comes to you after a run-in with the Breyers, possibly beat up physically and/or emotionally. Either way, your soothing tone and careful touches always brighten his mood. An excuse to give thank you kisses, which certainly leave you more flustered than you could ever imagine possible.

Or when it's you who they bother, Freddy will gladly step in to protect you, telling them off with the most harshest yet amusing things he can think of, no matter the punishment it earns him. If you won't speak up for yourself, in any situation, you can be damn well sure he will with zero hesitancy.

You guys are definitely the "I didn't want pickles..." "Hey, they asked for no pickles!" "Nononono-! It's fine, it's fine...!" couple.

Omgomg, another thing is Freddy literally strives to and prides himself upon bringing out a genuine laugh from you. Not a quiet lil chuckle or one of those mouth covered "haha hehe" type shits, no. I'm talking about that loud, real, witch cackle laugh that I know you have😌. It's literally his mission, always adjusting his humor to yours in any way he can and/or just saying and doing silly, stupid things just to hear it. He thinks it's wonderful and would give anything in the world to hear it over and over again.

And the more calmer moments between you two, consisting of lots of cuddling and movie watching, picnic and park dates, and god forbid you actually know about his superhero alter ego...

Dates in the sky (if you're not afraid of heights) are one thing that cannot be beaten. The serenity of the clouds and the land below, sitting on whatever structure Freddy could find big enough to fit the two of you, just watching it all happen. Everything so tiny, you two so peaceful with the occasional conversation or joke...

Oh!! Listen, just because you're a little shy doesn't mean you're not a little shit, okay? You're often the grand mastermind behind all of Freddy's pranks and ways to get back at Eugene or Billy >:). And man, does he adore it. Boy was 'bout knocked out of his socks when you first came up with some random yet ultimate scheme to prank one of his brothers, and has dubbed you ruler of the pranking department ever since💅🏽.

Also, you were sick of Freddy just going at things all willy-nilly and then him complaining back to you whenever he failed. "You never think things all the way through, that's why🙄."

Which reminds me, being a little more to yourself and all made it harder for you to get used to Freddy's family. Though he brought you around nearly all of the time and showed you off with pride, it was probably a solid week or so that went by before you could actually muster up the confidence to speak to anyone other than Rosa (which was always littered with a million apologies because you were sure you had come off as rude or a bitch for not speaking up right away😭).

But, at the end of the day, they all ended up loving you regardless of your shy nature and adore having you around. You especially got along with Mary, it being nice to have somewhat of an older sister figure, and Pedro, who was about just as quiet as you, but it often left you two sharing different music and hobbies with one another.

You both loving to read, Freddy mainly because he likes to know things and likes expanding his already large brain on all sorts of random knowledge. And you because you love to get lost in the fantasy and imaginative creativity of it all (or else why would you be reading these hdcns, huh🤨). This usually becomes him reading aloud to you or vice versa, you sitting in his lap or his head in yours, hair getting stroked and light kisses being placed anywhere they can reach every now and again.

Freddy loves you no matter what and doesn't care that you're shy/introverted. He's just happy to love and be loved, especially by you of all people, and will do whatever it takes to make sure you're comfortable and happy in general and with him at all times💙✨️.

I hope these were good enough, I love writing short little blurbs like that, they make my heart happy😭🩷.

~ Star✨️

Back to Master List

[thedawningofthehour]

Are some of the council heads in on Draxum’s plan and secretly supporting it from the shadows? Especially now that he has Galois and they realize the amount of money that kid could make for them?

The Council? You mean those guys that are totally not Kraang? Who forbade Draxum from messing with the humans and put a fucking hit out on him when he didn't get off his bullshit? Nope.

Okay, I'm gonna use this as an excuse to ramble, as I often do. Let's talk about what we know about the Council. They know about the prophecy, but disagree with Draxum on its interpretation. It's confirmed that humans drove the Yokai underground in the first place and definitely pose a threat to their kind-yet the Council doesn't want to eliminate them. They're voiced by Transformers. We see them exactly twice, and both times what we see is

Heads. Just stiff, unmoving faces. When they speak their mouths glow in time with their words, and the way the audio is it's implied that they're not talking directly, but through some sort of speaker. And then there's this-

Dispatching Agent 64 to 'keep an eye' on Draxum. And then magically warps him a treat and calls him a good boy. This little exchange gives us a ton of information on the nature of the Council. For one, they have emotions! They might be logic-driven, but they're not soulless like Krang Prime is shown to be. They are not immune to Fluffy Dog, they find them cute and enjoy giving them treats and make embarrassing noises while doing so. Despite this, they don't appear in person to speak to him. They keep their real forms hidden, even from Yokai they seem to trust. They're capable of magic. And finally, they're not omniscient. They can tell Draxum's up to no good, but they need someone to find proof so they can put him on trial.

Considering the existence of the Krang skeleton within the Hidden City and how it bleeds empyrean, how it's confirmed that empyrean is what creates Yokai-the crew was setting the stage for something. I definitely think that the Council was meant to be Rise's Utrom. Potentially, they came with the rest of the Krang dickbags to take over Earth, then pulled a Pink Diamond and went "oh it actually slaps here."

But how this is relevant, the Krang are a hivemind. They don't own individual property, don't even really have their own names. They exist to 'improve' lesser races. They have no need for money, nor the things it could buy them. They would not be fucking capitalists, is what I'm getting at.

As far as the fic goes, the Council are keeping an eye on things and they'll show up eventually. But no, they do not support Draxum. They're trying to catch him with his pants down and get the proof they need to arrest him/take Galois away from him and figure out What The Deal is with all that, but the Draxum/Cass/Galois dream team is covering their tracks very well.

And if we talk about the other big players in the Hidden City, like their elected politicians that operate under the Council and the richie-riches...sort of but not really. The Hidden City is facing a lot of the same problems we are now, with an impending infrastructure collapse on the horizon while their economy and government has been set up for the sole purpose of making a few people as many imaginary bank points as possible. In that the people who have all the power to do anything about the collapse don't give a shit about anything but racking up more bank points and everything's going to hell.

Do those people support Draxum's plot? No. Draxum's plans are not going to make them money-if anything, his plans are a major threat to them. In capitalism, resource scarcity benefits the people at the top. So I've mentioned that there's an impending food shortage due to the limited number of crops they can grow underground. That's fucking great for whoever grows the food. They can absolutely scalp people and people will pay their prices, because they have no other choice. Desperate people are also willing to work more for less, and they care about their rights less when their kids haven't eaten in days. Big Mama and her fellow capitalists? They're excited for this. Sure, they are sinking their own ship for the pleasure of watching those on the lower decks drown, but for a time they can make more imaginary bank points! Draxum's plans would solve a bunch of problems that they're capitalizing on.

Not to mention Draxum's a socialist and he would have a lot of power in this new above-ground society, even if he doesn't want to install himself as king. His plans scare them. His plans would mean they'd make slightly less money. So no, they do not support Draxum.

Galois, however...that's a bit different. Because in someone else's hands, Galois could make someone a whole bunch of money. He wouldn't really want to, but he's a skinny teenager and until recently he didn't legally exist. No government would be looking for him. This is where I side-eye the people calling Draxum a helicopter for being paranoid about Galois being kidnapped because trust me, there are people looking at this kid and licking their chops.