#ash plays age of calamity

[heroinetales]

Seeing this royal claymore here makes me sad

#shut it ash #ash plays tears of the kingdom #i know this is king rhoam's grave #but seeing this weapon here makes it sadder #plus this was his main weapon in age of calamity #totk spoilers #spoilers #loz #the legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #zelda tears of the kingdom

[myreia]

It has been an age since I’ve done one of these! So I’m just making up my own thing.

This is the first year I’ve written fanfic since 2019. It’s been really nice returning to something fun and low stakes that doesn’t have the same pressures as my original fiction. Writing for myself is something I lost over the last few years and it’s been so nice getting that back. There’s something really powerful about having your own little blorbo just for yourself and pursuing the things that speak to you.

All of my fanfic this year was FFXIV related and it was so nice sinking into a new world and rummaging around. I love that I get to know Aureia better the more I write her, and her journey is very near and dear to my heart. I haven’t finished anywhere near to all the stories I want to write about her, but she is very clear in my head Aureia’s been through hell, but she’s also my favourite blorbo so I’m not going to apologize for making her suffer.

Overview

Fandoms: 1

Total Fics: 10

Fics Published: 9

Fics Unpublished: 1

Words: 103,788

Highlights

✦ Divergence of the Heart

Rating: Explicit

This is probably my favourite fic I’ve written this year, if not my favourite fic I’ve ever written. I started it in February of this year and finished it in December. It was the multipart that just kept growing. It was supposed to be two chapters, then three, then four, then five, then seven—by the time I wrapped everything up the way I wanted to, it had landed on eleven.

Aureia’s relationships with Aymeric and Thancred have eaten away at my brain for most of this year. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but one of Thancred’s lines in the Heavensward patches fuelled and idea and now I’m here all these months later fully invested in a love triangle that has been way too much fun to write. This fic was an opportunity to explore asexuality in a particular light, so there’s a lot of myself in here. The writing in later chapters is some of the most vulnerable I’ve allowed myself to be lately and I’m very proud of how everything has come together.

I also think “No Greater Calamity Than the WoL’s Love Life” is an excellent use of the AO3 tags and I endeavour to use it more.

✦ Bound by Faith

Rating: Explicit

I love this fic with all my heart. It’s my second favourite thing I’ve written this year and would have been my favourite if I hadn’t finished Divergence of the Heart. I am very enamoured with late game Aureia and Thancred—how much they’ve been through and how many times their relationship has been reset. I like writing them as a little older, a little more mature, a little more grounded. They’ve both been through shit and come out stronger for it, and I needed the get the moment where they are finally together out of my system.

Also writing Thancred and Urianger banter is extremely fun and one of the most enjoyable things about putting this fic together.

✦ To Ash and Ember

Rating: Mature

Listen. I had an unexplainable feral compulsion to write Aureia’s fight with Lahabrea. It wasn’t going to leave me alone until I did. I think this fic set the tone for so much of her characterization and development; this moment—both in the fic and in-game—was character defining and it’s where everything came together.

✦ A Question of Desire

Rating: Explicit

This started as a prompt and then turned into my first FFXIV smut fic. It had been a while since I had written erotica, and it was nice to visit that kind of scene with Aureia and Aymeric. Their dynamic is very soft and sweet (especially in the time period of the late Heavensward patches), and I’m very pleased with how the second part came out—especially with the hint that not everything is all right with their relationship. There are cracks, they just can’t see it yet.

✦ Bitter Frost

Rating: Teen

The transition from ARR into Heavensward is one of the most powerful moments in FFXIV for me, partially due to the attachment Aureia (and me) had to Ul’dah. This fic was a scene in my head almost immediately after playing it. I wanted to spend some time when she was at an absolute low, and develop a bit of her relationship with Alphinaud—and experiment with some ways that black mages may attempt to fend off the cold, because why not. Let a magic girl be magic.

✦ Far from Happenstance

Rating: General

I like this one! I think it was fun revisiting the very early moments of the Ul’dah questlines from Aureia’s perspective. I had a better handle on her voice here; I hadn’t entirely figured out her backstory at this point (she was keeping it a secret from me), but she started to feel like a fully-fleshed out person here.

✦ Sand and Stone

Rating: General

This was my first FFXIV fic! I wrote it shortly after finishing base ARR and I was madly rotating the final fight with Lahabrea in my head (I’ve been ruined by the Worst Ascian since that cutscene and it doesn’t even make sense!! Am I mad (affectionately) about this? YES, OF COURSE I AM. Could have chosen literally any other villain but no, this is where I had to peak.).

This fic established some repeat themes for Aureia, namely her close association with fire and the burns on her back, as well as her close friendship with Thancred and his nickname for her (Aureia was not a fleshed out character until she was Aur, nicknames really do something for me, apparently).  

✦ Untitled Post 5.3. Fic

I haven’t published this one yet since I ran out of time to finish it (trying to finish another multipart in the last two weeks of December was not something I needed to add to my plate). But I am excited to work on fics set after Aureia and Thancred get married and dig a little bit deeper into how their relationship changes through marriage. There are still difficulties to be overcome, ways that they test and support each other. I really enjoy writing established relationships, so it’s fun to poke at the evolution of everything that has come before.

A little excerpt since it's not finished yet:

“No,” he murmurs. “I know what you’re doing—and I love you for it, never think that I don’t—but no. In this case… it does not help.” She nods, swallowing the lump in her throat, and exhales a shaky breath. A dozen thoughts rest on the tip of her tongue, a dozen questions she wishes to ask, but she holds herself back. It’s not what he needs right now. “One hundred and eleven,” Thancred says. “That is how many steps it takes to climb the battlements.” She presses her lips together and turns her back on the aetheryte plaza, leaning against the parapet as she gives him her full attention. He glances at her, staring at her through the curtain of hair, and his throat bobs. “I never knew that until today,” he continues. “In all our years here, all the times I have walked these battlements, not once did it occur to me to count the bloody steps. Not once did I imagine a future where it would be a near impossibility to reach them.” His gaze flickers to the aetheryte. “Not my first time being a fool, I suppose. I took my aether for granted once too.” “It’s not an impossibility,” she says firmly. “You dragged yourself up here—” “And I can barely stand. All my efforts and I have nothing to show for it save the reminder that I am…” He trails off, tempering his frustration before he says something he regrets out of spite. “Krile will give me a tongue-lashing for this, I know it. She will say I am pushing too hard. That I am being unkind to myself.” “And maybe you are.” “How can I not? If I must be sequestered off in a dark room and sit on my hands while the others return to their regular duties I will—well. I will…” “What?” He makes a face. “I would say ‘eat Urianger’s hood’, but he’s not exceptionally fond of those anymore, now is he?”

#ffxiv #ffxiv fic #ffxiv fanfiction #fanfic wrapped #ao3 wrapped #aureia malathar #writing tag

[karaloza]

I have a confession to make to the LoZ fandom...

I kind of hate the premise of Age of Calamity.

Nintendo crafted an exquisite tragedy to serve as the backstory for Breath of the Wild--and that's a tragedy in the Greek sense, where the terrible outcome is inevitable because of the human flaws of the people involved (mostly Rhoam, but also slightly Zelda). The game needed a tragic backstory in order to be what it was--a game about moving on from loss, learning to appreciate and make the most of and protect what remains, and finding the beauty in stillness and emptiness.

And by and large, players adore it. We love exploring this desolate Hyrule, discovering ruined structures--some ancient, some a mere century old--and memories, and gradually piecing together the horror of the Calamity that left the world in this state. We love what hasn't been destroyed--the NPCs who have slowly been rebuilding civilization in Link's absence, the unspoiled wilderness reclaiming what was once settled and filling it with natural resources and beauty. We love Link as a microcosm of his world, battered and scarred to near destruction but barely pulled back from that precipice and now functionally reborn, shorn of the weight of his former role along with his memories. As he gets to start over, to recover himself without the extraneous baggage that once oppressed him, so too does Hyrule re-emerge from the ashes and even attain new growth, as with the Tarrey Town sidequest. We find meaning in the aftermath of the tragedy, in what it decimated, what it merely brushed against, and what it seemed not to touch at all.

And then along comes AoC to say nope, actually, the thing to do if possible is prevent the Calamity...and since we're the game devs at Nintendo, it IS possible! The true ending is the one where the tragedy is averted...and hence BotW never happens.

It just feels...idk, kinda cheap, like Nintendo is backpedalling away from the sad story they told us...after thousands and thousands of us found deep meaning in it. And in the process, that meaning is denied.

And I kind of hate it.

They could have done so much better. Imagine a version of AoC that instead leans in to the tragedy, letting us play as Link and Zelda and the Champions as they barrel toward a horrible foregone conclusion, seeing what little they can save along the way. Imagine missions such as rescuing a family cowering in their home as Guardians tear it apart, or escorting a group of evacuating soldiers and citizens, or being a Champion mowing down hordes of monsters on the way to your Divine Beast, only to be faced with the Blight Ganon and unable to win, but scoring based on how long you hold out.

I mean, jeez.

And at the very least, if they wanted the option to avert the Calamity, the pitch should have been "On this day 100 years ago, the kingdom of Hyrule fell...because YOU [the player] weren't there! This is your opportunity to change history!" But instead we got "What if secret time-traveling robot?" It's unsatisfying.

Okay, rant over.

#the legend of zelda #tloz #legend of zelda #loz #breath of the wild #botw #age of calamity #aoc

[nightclimes]

and of course. ashe au

b a s i c s

Name: Elizabeth cen Ashe

Nicknames: Ashe, Calamity

Age: 35 in ARR; 41-42 post-Endwalker

Nameday: 1st sun of the fifth umbral moon (1st October)

Race: Garlean (Midlander Hyur)

Gender: Female

Orientation: Bisexual + Homoromantic

Profession: Smuggler, gang leader, rebel

p h y s i c a l     a s p e c t s

Hair: White.

Eyes: Red. She lacks the Garlean third eye, as have all girls born into the family since the Empire rose to prominence. Visibly, anyway.

Skin: Pale.

Tattoos/scars: Rose and thorn briar that follows her left wrist to her upper arm and ends at her ribs. A smattering of scars from various physical altercations; some surface deep and others lasting, but nothing overly serious.

f a m i l y

Parents: Her biological parents (both goe) were more interested in their arms business and standing in the Empire than they were in her and Ashe was left to be raised by conscripted aan in the provinces. They disowned her when she was eighteen; Ashe views them with contempt and scorn and considers Bob to be her true family.

Siblings: None.

Grandparents: Long dead.

In-laws and Other: Bob, the lost Hrothgar who raised her, is the one she views most as family. Her gang gets the same consideration, but Bob is the one she cannot function without.

Pets: None. Her parents were more interested in their dog than they were in her and that kind of reminder chafes.

s k i l l s

Abilities: Business minded and calculating, she enjoys outwitting her opponents, and the thrill of getting away with it is why she keeps doing it. Incredibly skilled at firearms as a machinist, and enjoys igniting things - it's about the explosion. Whilst she primarily wields revolvers she is practiced in Bozjan gunbreaker style, because Bob taught her. She has a rudimentary understanding of magic that she has not pursued (she has suspicions over the whole altered third eye thing), but has put to use with the aforementioned fire.

Hobbies: Running heists, smuggling, attention seeking, priding herself on having the exact item you need at the right time for the right price... these are valid hobbies. Others include vices. Also extremely valid hobbies.

t r a i t s

Most Positive Trait: Aggressive and blunt, but she has the ability to back up her claims. She is incurably loyal to those that mean something to her, and expects the same of others in her circle. So long as it's going her way and you follow her lead, she is absolutely the type of person you want at your side in a fight.

Most Negative Trait: If it's not going her way Ashe quickly loses her cool. She is impatient of others and the games that they play and her fuse is incredibly short. It's easy for her emotions to rule her. Infamy is kindling to her. She is also crushingly sentimental, often to her detriment. Overindulges, at times. She yearns and yearns hard.

l i k e s

Colors: Reds and blacks.

Smells: Roses, summer heat, clean linen, whatever Bob is making for dinner.

Textures: Soft downey blankets, rich flavours.

Drinks: Aromatic coffees, whiskeys, red wines.

o t h e r    d e t a i l s

Smokes: When she's under duress or annoyed. Which is often.

Drinks: She prefers liquors and spirits but if she wants to get drunk she picks wines. She is a very emotional drunk and gets hung up on her past very easily.

Drugs: Not really. There's a measure of control over her faculties she prefers to keep.

Mount Issuance: Motorbike. Many, many motorbikes.

Been Arrested: when the Hells freeze over.

#ashe au #i have given this way too much thought lmao #bob being a hroth and being entirely loyal to her just makes sense. #the province in question was dalmasca because there is something poetically ironic about the ashes being stationed there #i also think they were involved in prototypes of black rose. this seems like something they would do

[full-pockets]

I have a problem. My main/primary Switch, ACNH edition, keeps running out of space, so I have to delete or archive data in order to free up space to continue playing Skyrim. I can delete my old Skyrim saves, which I have been doing, however I feel this option will run out. I feel as if it will come to a point that any saves left to delete will end up being the very 'last' and if I delete it, I delete the whole character. I could archive the Animal Crossing: New Horizons game, which is the second biggest space sucker on the Switch, the first being Skyrim. Skyrim takes like 60 somethin, NH at 30 somethin.

That is a solution, but there is a problem that comes with it. The solution is that I can transfer the island to my other Switch, the OLED TotK one, which has ample space on it atm and it being an OLED has more space than my NH Switch. I also put a better SD card in it thou I think games save to the system memory, not the SD card. I only have TotK on there, a digital copy thou. I hardly play NH anymore and it keeps the data I have ready to use anytime, no needing to download archived data. I'm very weird about data transfers and archiving data, I don't like to do it. The problem is that my NH game has two player profiles, my main with an NSO, and an alt I created in order to have another player in ACNH. I can not transfer my alts player profile to the other Switch cause I don't have an NSO on that one. I really don't feel like buying another online membership and creating another email.

I cannot transfer my save data for Skyrim on the TotK switch because I have multiple player profiles with Skyrim saves, all without NSOs (except the main). If I transfer the Skyrim data to the other Switch, only my main player profile with the NSO will transfer. I loose my many other Skyrim characters saves, some very far along.

A possible solution is to just buy another digital copy of Skyrim for the TotK switch so I can create more saves on that switch instead my main. I won't get crashes due to the SHEER AMOUNT OF DATA my main switch has. I can play for hours and hours again without crashes, another problem I experience with my main Switch and became more frequent once I downloaded and did alot of the AE stuff.

My data won't transfer over (I assume) cause I have multiple digital copies of ACNH on different switches, and they don't keep the same data.

If I do this, I can wait on buying the AE stuff as well, which will allow me to side with the Thirsk Mead warriors and obtain Severin Manour on Solstheim. Switch AE breaks these quests, making Severin Manour un-obtainable since it utterly removes the quest March of the Dead. I have the 'Severin' people walking around with leveled daggers in Raven Rock and Veleth never gets attacked by ash spawn outside the old Attitus farm. However I also miss out on alot of good stuff, like the leveling enchant exploit and just all the cool stuff that comes with AE. I do really want Severin Manour thou, it just sits there, taunting me of what could have been. I unfortunately never got it on my main (before AE was even released on Switch) cause I waited too long to fight Miraak, then downloaded the AE update without knowing it would actually break quests.

Other notes- My ACNH save comes from a phyical copy of the game, not a digital download. I'm pretty sure putting the game card on a new Switch will NOT let me play the data, as data now only saves on the Switch console, not the game card like the good days/previous AC games on the series.

Skyrim is digital download, as is TotK. Most of my other games like Rune Factory 5, RF4:S, Age of Calamity, AoC demo, and Stardew Valley are all digital cause finding phyical games IS HARD. When I bought Stardew there wasn't even a phyical copy made, it came out like a year after I bought SDV.

I also have Breath of the Wild as a phyical copy on my main Switch, however it never asks me to archive that, so it must not take up that much space.

PLUS. There is going to be an update for Stardew Valley at some point, and I need enough space to be able to download it, which I'm not sure if I can. I suppose a fix would be to transfer the SDV save data onto my TotK switch, thou I'm not sure if it is supported throu the Eshop. I only have the one save on it on my main player profile, so if I could transfer it, no other player profile data would be lost.

#random #im iffy about messing with data I just dont like the idea #Im always worried Ill mess up big time and get rid of everythin with no way to get it back #even thou on the Switch and NTDO stuff in general it seems easy enough with plenty of ways to recover data

[torchickentacos]

Pokeani characters in Fantasy Games!

This was HELLA FUN. A mix of all generic mmorpg-like things-I took from a little of everything, not just one mmorpg or game. Added links for each class for those who haven’t been playing MMOs since they were eight. The characters are a little random but I like to keep these open for others!

Ash: Standard knight. Think Link in Zelda: Age of Calamity. Close combat, even attack and defense, your standard hero. He takes every side quest and drags his party on every single one of them. Will not kill enemies if he doesn’t absolutely have to. https://triplecrit.fandom.com/wiki/Knight_(Class)

Brock: Earthen Wizard. Basically, he’s an earthbender with a cool hat. https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/wizard

Misty: Monk. No, not a religious peaceful figure. In MMOs, monks are your hand-to-hand fighters. Some employ spiritual energy, but Misty? She uses the energy of ‘you attacked my friends and pissed me off, so this is between my fists and your face’. Despite her quick-to-anger tendencies, she’s incredibly dedicated and disciplined, and she specialises in fighting in watery terrain-where most fighters would slip and fall in wet territory, Misty has learned to use the water to her advantage. She also believes in the magic power of hydration and constantly bugs the rest of the party to drink water. https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/monk

May: Swashbuckler-a super specific one but I have a VISION. Think Rogue but instead of sneaky, she went charismatic and loud. If she does need to fight, she feels like a short scimitar kinda girl to me. Think Scimitar of the Seven from Breath of the Wild but smaller. She is best at either talking the party out of a situation... or being a loud distraction with a sword. With their combined shenanigans and tomfoolery, she and Harley would probably take over the world if they could get along for five minutes.  https://rpgbot.net/dnd5/characters/classes/rogue/subclasses/swashbuckler/

Drew: Nature themed Cleric, emphasis on ranged attacks and healing. Probably did NOT want to travel with the party, but in some ridiculous DND-like shenanigans he is obligated to. Tries to tell the party that they’re about to do something stupid and get hurt. Ten minutes later, nobody listened and he has seven people to heal. Would really rather just be growing flowers. Has not yet discovered the magic of friendship.  https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/cleric

Harley: Dark druid. Instead of green flowery magic like Drew and Chloe, which we will see later, he summons thorny vines and poisonous plants to do his bidding. With an emphasis on poison, chip damage, as well as dirty tricks, he is not someone you want to meet in a dark alley at night. You may get out of the encounter alive, but give it two hours and see how alive you still are after being pricked by some poisoned thorns. Harley has been known to leave poison ivy in Drew’s boots. http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/druid

Iris: Ranger on the route to Beastmaster. With her trusty spear in hand and her keen senses ready, she can go from stealthily stalking the treetops to fighting like a whirlwind in seconds. She wouldn’t dare hurt an actual animal, but hunters and enemies? Well, they’ll see what it feels like to be prey. Usually works solo, but she’s more than happy to help the party if they need her! https://www.dndbeyond.com/posts/669-ranger-101-beast-master#:~:text=A%20Beast%20Master%20is%20a,the%20primeval%20jungles%20of%20Chult.

Lillie: Astral-themed Bard, which exists because I say so. If Santa counts as a rogue in DND homebrew canon then bards can harness the power of the sun and moon. Sure, most bards are known to be ridiculous and not particularly threatening, but Lillie and her flute can level armies... if she could bring herself to do it. But like the sun and the moon from which she draws her power, life and death are always in a precarious balance, and Lillie doesn’t see it as her responsibility to upset that balance. She can, however, play support well-casting soft, melodic spells to uplift her friends.  https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/bard

Chloe (shoutout to my sister for helping with this one): Druid with AOE. Avoids fights if possible, but if needed she will help! Refuses to accept that she and Harley are in the same class, which Harley finds very amusing. Harley insists on calling her ‘Sis’. Chloe hates this and wonders if it’s too late to study necromancy or something instead. https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/druid

#pokemon #pokeani #anipoke #pokemon ash #pokemon misty #pokemon brock #pokemon may #pokemon drew #pokemon harley #taylor's tag #pokemon chloe #pokemon lillie #pokemon iris

[hyliascommonwealth]

//Y'know the more I see of these memes the more I wonder.. how do the representantives feel about the Legend of Zelda games?

// haha ash and i touch on those occasionally, for the most part, especially when considering like this silly crossover, I still like to consider the OG Zelda games as Shigeru Miyamoto’s omage to His childhood and growing up in rural Japan.

though later games may lean into Hylian myths. legends, and aesthetics? Haha it definitely gets a bit confusing for me to consider them along side each other. For the most part i stick to them being legends, loosely pinned at certain points of time, and the games build off of them as great adventures. So, of course. Most of them are fairly neutral toward them, though they do wind up driving tourists in which is a huge nuisance to the rather low key lifestyle of most Hylians.

Gonna be honest though a lot of the time they give Uli a bit of an existential crisis haha. He really struggles with Christian iconography in the first couple games. It took kiku almost fifteen years to get Uli to touch a video game controller to even play some of the games tho.

Vallo really doesn’t like that ocarina of time is set so close to such a painful memory for him and his people. Similar to Nabora.

Rika is pretty bummed Thunderis hasn’t featured but such is life.

Viri makes it a point to tell his new boss that they’re famous when the most recent game comes out, but has to be reminded that it isn’t such a good thing, this was somewhat touched on when HW; age of calamity released moving them to a more misguided role.

//ough i hope the memes are fun though! I was hoping they’d make it easier for me to share the vibes and for you all to enjoy the stuff i make

#hws oc #zelda oc #oc #crossover oc #uli #vallo #rika #nabora #ough I’m so dumb sorry bro #it is very fun to think about though! #i never really know how far to go with this Crossover tho cause like #I’ve talked about A LOT with ash #But like #i don’t want to push too far and get deleted for it #I’m so sorry this is such a long answer;—; haha

[dent-de-leon]

Satyr, elf, dwarf, genasi, paladin, bard, fighter, warlock

Hi!! this got a little rambly and long lmao but here we go:

Satyr: how did you discover critical role

okay so!! This was apparently just before crit role started streaming, cause it was 8 years ago, and anyway, I went to a signing for Matt at a con. I'm incredibly shy, but he was just very nice and friendly. Some time later, I started seeing pretty VM art and heard people talking about this DND thing that Matt Mercer did with some other VA's and I was like, oh!! I've heard of him!

I tried getting right into C1 but I felt like it was maybe a little daunting to catch up at that point. But then not long after, C1 wrapped up, and they announced they were doing another campaign. So it seemed like the perfect opportunity to start watching, be there right for the beginning of the new game. And I still remember when C2 was first teased, they posted this art of the party--but just their sihlouettes.

And it was just so fun to see everyone guessing at what kind of class everyone was and who was playing what character, and there was!! this one very striking sihlouette in particular! This one with HORNS and pretty jewelry and!! tHIS ADORABLE LITTLE TAIL!! and anyway I saw that sihlouette and I was like!! That one! I want to see that one! And watched the first episode of C2 live absolutely vibrating with excitement and when Mollymauk first showed up I knew I was already so far gone, it was hopeless--

Elf: what is your favorite side campaign

I really liked EXU Calamity!! Even if it absolutely broke my heart, it was just so much fascinating world building and character arcs. And I'm just so weak for anything related to the Age of Arcanum.

Dwarf: what is your favorite one-shot

THE SONG OF THE LORELEI!! I love blood hunters and werewolves and the concept of all the PCs being family. The sibling rivalry and banter, the mysterious family history and the way each character chooses whether to carry on this legacy or find their own path--there's just a lot of little things I loved.

Genasi: who is your favorite campaign 3 character (so far)

Funnily enough, my favorite character is a genasi, and it's Ashton!! I love the whole concept of dunamancy as raw, primal power and chaos--as opposed to the very refined science of spellwork and theorems we see from Dynasty wizards. It's just such an interesting contrast and the unpredictability of it is so fun. Love watching Taliesin react to what he rolls for those chaos bursts.

Also adore Ash's whole personality and the little so far we've uncovered about their past. I love his little found family and the way they're so protective of people when they insist they don't have friends. Grappling with their fear of abandonment and attachment, gradually learning to up again and heal. Also, Taliesin playing another trans character just makes me so so happy. Soft barbarian my beloved,,

Paladin: what is your favorite friendship

aHH the circus kids!! I think it's such a tragedy that we never got to see more of them, and it makes all of their little moments all the more heartfelt and poignant. Yasha saying that she just got attached to Molly because "he was Molly," seeing him in all his color and vibrance and joy--"he was so beautiful." A spark of life when she had been traveling so long in the wastes, where everything was dead and nothing grew, where there was no color in the world. And then there's Molly, and he shines like a beacon.

Molly making sure Yasha has ways to find them when they leave town. Kissing her on the forehead when she comes back. The aftermath of the Zone of Truth spell, when Molly's just leaning into her for comfort and thanking her for being there for him. Molly opening up to Yasha about being genderfluid, about how he really feels and what his tattoos mean to him.

Molly waking from the resurrection feeling so lost and pained and Empty--running away and holding his head in his hands until Yasha goes to his side and comforts him, promises him he's not Empty anymore. The sheer adoration and warmth in his voice when he calls her Love, the moments when he gives her the biggest hug and hands her the flowers he picked just for her and Beau.

The fact that Molly spent so long at the circus waiting for the next time Yasha would show, trusting that she'd always come back when she's ready, that she'd never leave them for good. Yasha still faintly hoping and praying, mourning Molly for so long until finally, finally--he comes home. And this time, Yasha gets to be the one to welcome him back and bring some color and warmth to his life.

Bard: what is your favorite “how do you want to do this?”

The vision of Yasha ripping Obann's wings off while lit by the temple's shattered stained glass is just so very thematically satisfying and striking, I'll never get over it.

But Jester staring down at Lucien and telling Molly that she knows he's in there, that they all love him so much and they want him back--that always breaks me. The poetry of Jester being the one to strike down Lucien when she's the one who read his tarot cards and told him, "Facing you is death," but says it is a comfort. Death--not as cruelty or something monstrous, but as a new beginning, an end so something new can be born--death coming to you and sitting beside you, holding your hand and telling you it will be okay.

Two tieflings, two parts of a matching set, a deck drawn by them both--Jester and Molly, death and rebirth. I love them so much.

Fighter: what was your favorite funny moment

I absolutely adore the classics of 1) Vox Machina spends like four spell slots, 25 minutes, and takes 10 damage trying to open x1 door in Whitestone, and 2) THE HOSPITAL HEIST and especially eVERYTHING Molly did for it. The image of him crashing through a window full of glass and acting like he just did a ten point landing and then jumping into Fjord's arms while he's trying to convince some nearby guards that Molly ran off in the opposite direction--pure art.

Warlock: what is your favorite critical role merch 

MOLLY AND JESTER'S TAROT DECK!! I've been longing for that merch for years and it's everything I wanted. I love the little introduction written from Molly's point of view and all the lore tidbits we get about Moonweaver worship and Moonweaver oracle decks. I've also just always had a love of tarot cards, and this is actually my first oracle deck, so I was really excited!

The way these decks are often destroyed and rebuilt from scratch over and over, sometimes as often as the passing phases of the moon--how this reflects Molly's own soul and his fluidity in transformation and renewal between lives. The fact that Molly really does use his cards to try and help people, and that there's another group aligned with Ruidus who make red moon decks designed just to deceive and manipulate their marks.

Molly's cards and art being influenced by the ideals of Moonweaver worship and his heart for adventure and romance. The way he really did draw cards for all the Mighty Nein, making them a part of his life and the story his deck tells--I just love him and Jester and this lovely collaboration of art they did together. (Also, Jester's little notes in the margins of the pamphlet are so cute!)

#thanks for the ask hope you had a happy holiday!

[ranger-kellyn]

talking myself through some nano fic ideas under the read more

first list of fics i am considering for nano this year, just off a skim of my google drive

-Come With Me Revise (Title TBA / Cress/Siebold) -Phaesporia Legends Arceus Fic (Title TBA) -NamtaFlu (Draft 3 / Post-Apocalypse, Real World-ish, Pokemon Fic) -Terror In The Nightfall (HWAoC Fic / Would continue where I left off last year) -Delicate (Getaway Car AU) -Forever Winter (Phaesporia A N G S T) -Pokemon/Stardew Valley Fic (Title TBA / Phaesporia and a lot of other self-indulgent pairings) -From The Ashes (Failed HWAoC Timeline Fic) -Long Story Short (Purobbie Modern Day, slice of life AU)

So, for the first round of cutting:

I think NamtaFlu should wait. Given the album 1989 was so pivotal in me writing it in the first place, I'd love for 1989 (TV) to be out while I'm working on it.

Terror In The Nightfall-- I think I would too easily give in to how overwhelmingly large the fic is. Starting around 65k where I left off last year, and STILL being...barely into the main bulk of the fic...this is a huge fic, and I think I need to keep some distance with this fic. Maybe next year I'll tackle the other half.

Delicate-- As much as I want to work on it, I don't actually know it's a story that will take 50k words to tell. Cut for now.

Forever Winter-- I think...this is too much angst. I know I joke I'm the angst king, but like. this would be my magnum opus as far as angst goes. The shit I am putting Cynthia and Diantha through-- this requires a careful headspace, I think. So, no.

From The Ashes-- I don't know that I'm in the headspace for this fic. It's another long fic, that will easily span 100k words, but....idk. I don't think I have a solid enough outline to work with. I'm still planning on giving myself a dedicated week before November to plan even further, but I don't know I can get enough of an outline of this story in that short of a time frame.

Long Story Short-- once again, i don't know that i'm in the headspace for this fic. on one hand, i KNOW if i just go play some age of calamity, i'll be back in the purobbie/zelimpa headspace i need for these fics, but on the other hand.......that's work

SO.

that leaves me with: CWM Revise Legends Arceus Pkmn/Sdv Fic

Round 2:

Okay, so.

I THINK I have to cut the Come With Me revise. there's SO MUCH i'm changing from the original. for starters: it's going to be set in Castelia City instead of Lumiose. jean is no longer the obvious villain. Siebold has a fuck ton of his own issues. cress, his brothers, iris, and burgundy all have their own host of issues. (moving to a city with a huge housing issue really put this all closer to home for me rather than just being a topic i had to research a bunch for a speech class in college) siebold and diantha aren't besties which literally makes me want to cry So, as much as I have written for this fic outline wise, i think this requires a lot more research and work than i can give in about a week. so, for that. it's getting cut :(

SO.

Round 3:

given i still have plenty of time before nano even starts, i'm going to sit with these two ideas for the time being. i THINK i'm leaning towards my legends arceus fic, but who knows.

maybe i'll go back on everything i just decided and do one of the ones i thought i had cut lmao

we'll see where my brain is at in about a month

#talking tag #writing tag #nano blogging

[bellmo15-blog]

I NEED To Talk About Robbie In Tears Of The Kingdom

*Spoilers for both Tears of the Kingdom, Breath of the Wild and Age of Calamity. *

So I’ve been playing Tears of the Kingdom for the past month because of course I would. It’s only my most anticipated game of 2023 and the sequel to one of my favourite Zelda games in the franchise after all. Well, most anticipated game of 2023 that doesn’t feature one of the best Spider-Man suits as a central mechanic at least! And you know, I’ve been having a dam good time with Tears of the Kingdom. Running around Hyrule, sending Koroks into space, helping my bro Sidon save Zora’s Domain from Sludge, helping my daughter Riju fend of some zombies, kicking the ass of a giant ice worm with my new son Tulin and helping Yunoboo and the Gorons get over there new addiction to crystal meth. Also building a new home outside Terry Town because I leave my old home in Hateno Village for a few years and suddenly the place is infested with Mushrooms! But umm, there’s one thing I haven’t been able to get over yet. One teeny tiny insignificant thing I NEED to talk to about someone. And that is well, umm… WHY THE FUCK IS MY MAN ROBBIE GETTING THE SHORT END OF THE STICK IN THIS GAME!?!?!

Okay so some of you might not know what the hell I’m talking about so let me give you some backstory. In Breath of the Wild released SIX YEARS AGO HOLY SHIT I FEEL OLD we meet two Shekia scientists who were both around 100 years prior to the games events before Calamity Gannon came and did to Hryule what Star Wars fans did to George Lucas’s sanity and absolutely decimate it! The first of these is Purah who in an attempt to turn herself into her much better Tears of the Kingdom six years early decided to experiment on herself with de-aging technology but ended up de-aging herself to much and turned herself into a loli and now she lives in the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab with her man slave Symin where she’s also able to reactivate the camera on your Shekia Slate because it was 2017 and everyone wanted to post there shitty selfies on the Hyrule Version of Instagram. Meanwhile Robbie doesn’t get off that lucky and is still an old man who looks like he’s going to keel over and die at any moment if you were to swing a Deku Leaf in front of him and I’m convinced he’s only managed to stay alive for all these years because of the power of determination after playing Undertale like once and seeing how effective it is. He also now spends his time hanging around the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab and hangs around a wired talking robot who spits out admittedly one of the best armour sets in the game and some ugly woman named Jerrin. The most significant thing Robbie does this whole game is ask you to strip naked.

Now let’s talk about Hyrule Warriors Age of Calamity which is both a sequel to the original Hyrule Warriors where you slaughter the entire population of the United States masquerading as Zelda enemies and also a semi prequel to the events of Breath of the Wild 100 years ago when two of the best Zelda characters of Urbosa and Mipha were still alive. It’s also in this game we see Purah and Robbie and what they looked like before old age and lolification hit. Purah a very pretty woman who looks to be in her 20’s probably and Robbie? Holy shit! Robbie looks handsome! This ladies and gentlemen is Robbie at his peak. Handsome, active, has fun and the best part is that he and Purah are even playable in this game as DLC. Not as separate characters but rather as one character and they both work together. AND Robbie is carrying on him a pair of badass dual chainsaws to fight of Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas’s clone army. Ash Williams? Fuck him! THIS is Robbie (and Purah’s there two I guess.) Objectively speaking the best version of Robbie in this series is the one in the semi non cannon crossover with the franchise I’m pretty sure was originally made a social experiment to show why throwing more bodies at the problem is morally wrong and doesn’t work unless the person playing it really does think that Dynasty Warriors game are just mindless button mashers which THEY ARE NOT and if you need me to prove that further you un-cultured shits, go play Fire Emblem Warriors! That game alone proves my point that these games require more thought from the player than…

Now we move on to the latest game in the Legend of Zelda series, Tears of da Kingdom. In this game we see Purah again and that the de-aging has worn off and she is started to get older and in her current state, oh boy Purah in her current state! I mean, what can I say about Tears of the Kingdom Purah that hasn’t been said already!? She’s beautiful! She’s gorgeous! There is a dam good reason a good 90% of the Zelda community likely wants to fuck Purah and have her have there babies! Now what about Robbie? Surely after her own experience Purah is going to give her old pal Robbie that technology and de-age himself to get him close to his Age of Calamity de… NOPE! Robbie is STILL stuck as an old man who looks like he’s going to crumble and turn to dust. Considering his friendship with Hyrules Next Top Model you think he’s get a break and be blessed with the same immortal life Purah has. The worst part is that after a certain point he will leave Lookout Landing to go back to Purah’s old lab in Hateno. Alone. No one to keep him company like in Breath of the Wild. Nothing to do after you complete the Purah Pad upgrade side adventure. The poor guys probably going to spending the rest of his life as a hermit whose entertainment is laughing at grown men on Hryule Twitter cry about the most insignificant shit like the skin colour of a fictional character. UNLESS Purah still has that technology hidden someone in her old lab. Maybe… Maybe THAT’S the REAL reason Robbie is in her old lab! To use her de-aging technology on himself! He doesn’t care if the process takes 100 years, he will do it!... Right? Unless he’s gotten to the point where his memory will start to deteriorate. He will forget who Link is, who Purah is, who he is. He… he’s not there to save himself. He’s there to die. Forgetful and forgotten. *Sigh.* Poor Robbie. This game’s done the guy dirty. This game needed to give the fandom someone to simp over but in doing so, they neglected poor old Robbie. Nintendo clearly hates Robbie and only Team Ninja give a shit about him.

*Sigh.* I’m sorry, I’ve made myself sad. I think maybe I should just get back to building my new house. Make it my dream location to live in. Maybe I’ll even adopt Riju and Tulin as my own kids and have them see Sidon and Yunobo as there new uncles. Maybe even try to find a way to use Age of Calamities time travel shenanigans to bring a still alive Mipha to my time so that we can start a family… What’s that? You say Tullin already has a farther and mother who are still alive and healthy? *Dresses up in the Yiga Clan armour set.* Not for much longer! Glory to the Yiga Clan and Master Kohga bitches!

#Zelda #Tears of the Kingdom #Robbie

[heroinetales]

I can tell doing the new Age of Calamity DLC is going to be a pain

#shut it ash #ash plays age of calamity #doing the EX battle for kakariko village is annoying #one of the memory requirements is keeping monsters out of ally strongholds #but everything happens too much too fast #hyrule warriors age of calamity #hyrule warriors #age of calamity #loz #legend of zelda #breath of the wild

[eenasbabysmom]

Fic ideas that keep me in a fog at inappropriate times throughout the day: Part 4

The twisted Soulmates AU-Zhancheng

*mostly inspired by qi-ling‘s chosen zhancheng quote “you are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand”. I’ve been a little obsessed with that imagery ever since*

The premise is simple: fated pairs are a rarity, but also considered a blemish. Like, the sign of a fated pair is a bad omen. The link doesn’t necessarily mean soulmates and love-they are literally fated to have their lives entwined, but it never works out okay. Throughout time, wars have been waged, blood spilt, families torn asunder because the push of fated pairs trying to come together, or worse, trying to force their way apart. When fated pairs are born to the gentry, it signifies an upcoming time of strife and death.

JC and LWJ are fated. LWJ is born first, and the Lan sect covers it up. The babe is born with a faded mark on his back, one that blooms into colour when he is nearly two-a purple snake with bloodied fangs wrapped around a wilting lotus bloom. Lan elders aren’t obtuse, they get the imagery and they’re pissed because their erstwhile sect leader, who once had so much promise, then ran off to marry a murderer, lock himself away from his responsibilities, and then spawned this ominous child who had the potential of destroying the very world they lived in.

JC is born in Lotus Pier with a fated mark in stark black lines that glow an iridescent blue when he is agitated. It is in the shape of a sword with an ornate hilt and broken blade. It is surrounded by dead and trampled flowers, that might be orchids (YZY knows they are, but she’ll never say it out loud.). JFM is horrified at the sight of it, and YZY mistakes his welling grief for their son as rejection-it is the final miscommunication in their tenuous marriage that sends her off to her own corner of LP with her ominous son cradled to her chest.

Neither sect lets out what’s happened. The children are told from a young age to never mention their marks, and from a slightly older age why they can’t. LWJ likely told younger than what was necessary, driving him further into the arms of his clan’s rules and disciplines as if they could hold back the oncoming storm of his fate. JC is told by his mother and father separately, both inadequate in their own way, and comes out of it with a bigger inferiority complex than before.

WWX is brought back to LP at age 7-YZY feeling threatened that JFM will actually try to replace her fated child with this one-the one who doesn’t have doom hanging over his head. JC also thinking this, but maybe also hoping for it a bit underneath it all. He wants his father’s approval and love, but he’s also afraid that he is poison and doom foretold and wants not to bring calamity down on his family. Fated children cannot be killed to avoid the dark times they portend-in fact, in history, murdering a fated child in their youth has led to more bloodshed as the one left behind rips everything apart to find its pair-whole countries burnt to ashes in the rage of not finding them.

How does it play out?

-LWJ discovers JC is his second half during the Waterborne Abyss arc (clothes get wet, JC gets agitated and before he can calm down, LWJ sees the glowing outline of Bichen’s hilt through Jiang gonzi’s white disciple robes). He retreats from the discovery completely, thinking to delay the catastrophe or avoid it all together (he knows he can’t, but he wants to hide behind his clan’s rules and also, he’s kind of more interested in WWX).

-the Wen come to Cloud Recesses and LWJ thinks he is to blame for ignoring JC. He goes to the Indoctrination and refuses to speak with WWX, trying to steel himself for a terrible conversation with JC, but being unable to have it due to Wen interference and WWX shenanigans.

-Tortoise of Slaughter arc happens. JC starting to suspect that these things are building up to the awful thing that his fated status foretold. Severe guilt pushing him to bring WWX back to LP. The Wen still coming, JC not blaming WWX but internalizing this as being the fault of what he is. JC running out to distract the Wens, trying to save WWX and also get the Wen to kill him because calamity always befalls those who kill a fated one before they meet their other and it always happens fast. JC thinks this will be the way he can avenge his parents and his sect. It almost works, but after WZL melts his core, the mark goes supernova and kills WZL, WLJ, and half of the Wen at LP. WC barely makes it out alive and when he realizes what JC is, he hightails it back to Qishan. The burns from the blast never heal and he dies of infection in Nightless City after warning his father about JC.

-WN arrives and drags an unconscious JC to safety. He doesn’t know about JC being fated, brings him back to WWX and WQ to heal. WWX tries to convince WQ to go the golden core transfer and she refuses once they discover JC’s mark. She says it would bring more calamity if they meddle with it. JC is definitely suicidal and tells WWX that everything happened because JC was born a curse.

-WWX discovers not Song Lan, but XXC and they go to BSSR for a core swap. BSSR can’t do it because JC’s mark is becoming too volatile after his core was melted. She tells them to leave JC with her abc they would try and figure out a way to stabilize him. She says it would be easier with the other half, but no one knows who it is. With the war on, there’s a good chance the other may die, which could make JC more unstable. BSSR theorizes he could do to the jianghu what he had done to the Wen at LP, killing millions.

-WWX reluctantly goes to join the SSC as the leader of the Jiang forces; he recovers some disciples not at the LP during the massacre and recruits others. He meets up with LWJ in Qinghe and their thing intensifies. LWJ constantly back and forth, wanting to be close to WWX and also being afraid to be. Asks WWX about JC and gets no real answer. WWX only says Jiang zongzhu would join them shortly.

-JC arrives eventually. His mark has evolved, gotten bigger and more detailed. It covers his entire back and chest, crawling up his neck and over the left side of his face. It is undeniable what it is. He cannot cultivate, but uses Zidian and Sandu through the power of the mark. The lines go Bichen blue and infuse power into the spiritual weapons. Good news is that he’s good at killing. Bad news is that using it too much causes him to supernova like before, taking out everything around him in a one mile radius. He cannot lead armies, but he can be deployed as a weapon on the battlefield. The Wen know who and what he is and no one wants to risk killing a fated one. It allows for JC to rip through their ranks and explode whenever. But each time he does it takes a toll. He nearly dies on the field weekly and nothing his siblings say will get him to stop. Halfway through the war, he named WWX the new Jiang sect leader because he will never cultivate again.

-LWJ gets pulled into the squabbling between Yunmeng siblings despite himself. He is also concerned about JC and feels guilty about hiding their connection. One particularly bloody day, JC disobeys orders and flies off to fight deep in the Wen lines. He is nearly taken hostage, but manages to supernova exponentially more powerfully than ever before. The problem is once it’s done, he can’t stop lighting up and exploding. LWJ grabs him and pulls him from the battlefield. They end up in a secluded area, both sides looking for them, LWJ reveals that he is JC’s other half and is stumped when JC replies that he knows. Bichen is recognizable, JC explains, and the other imagery of his mark isn’t exactly subtle. LWJ angrily demanding to know why JC didn’t tell him that he knew and JC calling him a hypocrite.

-“These aren’t the calling cards of an epic love story. I never wanted to meet you, never wanted a confrontation about it. They mean nothing except you and I are destined to ruin each other and everyone around us. Who would go looking for that?”

-LWJ refuses the excuse, even though he’s grown up thinking the same. He grabs JC and transfers qi, which ends up stabilizing JC enough that he stops supernova-exploding. Gets a bit smug about it, like ‘see? We’re not just made to hurt one another’ and JC responding with ‘oh, just go fuck my brother and pretend like this stupid confession didn’t happen’. LWJ realizing that it’s not that JC doesn’t expect to outlive the war, but that he doesn’t want to. Acknowledging the link between them makes emotions and thoughts muddled. LWJ never wanted anything from his fated pair, but now he is slowly becoming desperate to keep JC alive and well.

-LWJ is in love with WWX, becoming slowly, darkly consumed by JC, and JC is ready to shuffle off this mortal coil as soon as he can get close enough to supernova inside the Nightless City and take WRH out at the same time. WWX is in love with LWJ, obsessed with JC as he ever is, and not sure what to do when he finds out about the fated pair.

-JYL cannot make enough soup to fix any of this, but she is gamely trying. JZX makes some sort of comment about JC and him being a fated one and she nearly upends a pot of hot soup over his head. In a series of strange outbursts later, JYL is somehow engaged to NHS and using his brains to do something about what the anti-JC grumblings among the Jin disciples and other minor sects will mean.

-JGY still kills WRH, but JC still goes into supernova to bring down the Sun Palace, killing almost the entirety of the remaining members of the Wen clan. It is a scene of unbelievable carnage. The SSC is over and now questions are starting about what to do with JC- who has proven himself unhinged and catastrophic. JGS asks if the other sects are meant to look the other way while YMJ has such a weapon in their grasp- a weapon that can only lead to tyranny.

-“He’s not a weapon; he’s our brother.”

-JC makes things worse by peacing out and leaving without telling anyone. YMJ has an alliance with Qinghe Nie that gives them support because NMJ wholeheartedly supports the inclination to bomb the Wen Sect. Also, his little brother has decided that he’s in love with JYL and might cry if the engagement is broken off. The sworn brotherhood never happens- the jianghu is divided into two camps: Nie and Jiang combined against Lanling Jin and a number of minor sects, with Gusu Lan declaring neutrality.

-WWX reluctantly returns to LP as sect leader. JYL and LWJ accompany him and start to help him rebuild. LWJ loves WWX fiercely, but the itch to find JC and be near him gets stronger and stronger. He confesses to WWX eventually, who wavers between indignation for JC because LWJ didn’t stand beside his fated one and sadness that this means there is no path for him and LWJ. Fated pairs don’t always fall in love, but they always end up together because the alternative is disaster.

-JC wanders through LP one day almost two years later. JYL is married to NHS and they split their time between LP and Unclean Realm. They have one child, Nie Ling, and another is on the way. The second will be a Jiang abc the next sect heir, as WWX insists his successor be if the Jiang line. LWJ is still there and furious and delighted that JC is back. JC’s hair is streaked through with grey and white. His skin is youthful and clear, but the mark has changed from black lines to ugly red scars. Only the original mark remains in black lines, lighting blue in his agitation. He ignores his siblings’ anger, kisses his nephew, and makes vivid threats to his brother in law to ensure his devotion to JYL. LWJ he ignores entirely, making the other fairly seethe.

-two months JC stays, often huddled up in some corner with his sister or brother. He plays with A-Ling, scares NHS, and dances out of LWJ’s reach. Eventually he says he has to go, and that LWJ should go too. He points out that the rainy season has been getting worse and worse since LWJ arrived and there were some whispers about a plague in the outskirts of Yunmeng. Fated ones cause catastrophes wherever they go, but more so when they are without their other.

-“you don’t have to come with me, but you can’t stay here. Yunmeng probably wouldn’t survive.”

-tearful parting between Wangxian. JC has already fucked off days before-he does not care where LWJ goes, but he doesn’t want him in LP. LWJ is desolate at leaving WWX, but also infuriated that JC cares so little about him and what he is meant to do. Leads to a vicious hunting down of JC and some pretty rough sex in the outer rims of Qishan. They claw and fuck and come together-and the volcano before Nightless City erupts almost at the same time. They do not see it, but they hear it and feel the tremors.

-JC laughs, darkly, and goads LWJ into another round.

#jiang cheng #lan wangji #zhancheng #fic ideas #things I want to write but probably won’t ever have time for #this is as dark as I get #dysfunctional relationship #mdzs #cql

[imalwaystiredzzz]

C5: Sisyphus happy. Yan Zhongli x Reader

#genshin x reader

Warning: Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationships

< Sisyphus happy chapters >

Once, from a time long before records and memories were written on ink and paper, Morax walked upon vast lands rich in history, watered by tears of tragedy and love lost. He turns to an old woman who stood before her destroyed village, eyes downcast and hollow on bodies drowned by the war of an unrelenting sea and the mountain that does not bow. 

Morax did not understand, maybe once when he had held a goddess’ body to his own, but to him that was one thing and this is another. This is love of a mortal that does not even know who the child that cried next door nor the man that walked past their door, this is to love a complete stranger and the love that Guizhong once had when she was still by his side.

“What must I do to learn the love of mortals?” He asks, voice devoid of emotion; genuine curiosity and the hope to understand beneath.  

The old woman smiled, warm and full of wisdom as if her short years were thousands compared to the god. “To love mortals, one must sacrifice eternity and learn of the passing time. Of death and partings. The gods have forgotten that they may live long but even you have an end, it is the same thing that pains us yet we find delight in.”

He didn’t understand then, those words ring true and wise as Cloud Retainer’s advice to his ears on leading the people that he had now to care for. Even so, he still finds himself wondering, “What would Guizhong have done?”

In his heart, he knows that she would’ve understood and took a moment to explain; unlike the way time leaves nothing but confusion in its wake, only pondering and no straight answers?

Even as hundreds of years pass, when all that remains of that old woman is nothing but ashes on the soil and the land had been turned to marsh, the people traveling and settling in a mountain, and the war marching on to its bloody conclusion; Morax found that answer to be much like the dumbbell that he may never come to solve. 

But once more, reminiscent of his unexamined love with the goddess had bloomed too late, fate had played him right into its hands. 

Because the answer had come in the form of you- still a child, a bud in the nursery of glaze lilies under the morning sun. You and your small hands that gripped the end of his robes, with teary eyes that looked at the dying people and held these strangers hand in their last breath with as much intensity for a small comfort to let them know they did not die alone.

“Will the war end soon?” Your small voice asked him, even Mountain Shaper had not the stomach to look at a child’s plea for peace and spout lies.

“I am trying to end it, as fast as I can.” 

“Then this is for you.” You reached into your pocket and gave him a dried glazed lily contained in glass, “thank you for trying though we cannot give much back.” You bow, as courtesy knowing that you had just talked to the very god that protected the lands you step on and ran back to the shack that housed the sick and injured, your parents much too busy to notice you had snuck out. 

Blissfully unaware that the god of geo, gripping the gift in between his hands, amber eyes following your form and telling himself that humans have much to learn and yet they surprise him nonetheless, just like as his love used to tell him.

But even answers are confusing, much like a child who asks why is 1+1=2 and the process of it, he didn’t understand till he saw you once more. Not yet a lady but not quite the child that you used to be. Now you are the girl who provides healing, growing up to be a herbalist like your mother and no longer simply holding a basket of them for your father. Carefully, with your mortal hands you comfort the injured beyond salvation as the calamities of gods that hold much power rages on. 

Surrounded by dying men of the war, miasma, curses and death lurking in the air, in his eyes you remained untouched. Unblemished, as if the air in your little bubble had been purified by innocence and unconditional love for the crowd of strangers, neither pitying them for death nor numb to their tragedy. Then for a second he thought he saw her - the glaze lilies and the goddess that he loved so much and he begins to wonder if she’s come back to him through you.

“I should thank you for treating the wounded.” He tells the man before him, the bags of herbs laying behind his form and a sigil in hand, “use this in times of need, when the people are crying and I am away, surely the adeptis are quick to answer and would not turn you away.” 

“My lord, Rex Lapis, there is no need to thank us. Knowing that you protect the people is enough, we are just a family of healers who help the ones in need.” Your father was a grateful man, and he can see where you get your eyes, especially your kind heart who reaches out to those in need, not because he seeks power or his blessings.

“Even so, Liyue will remember your kindness but none more so than I, Rex Lapis.” 

He does not know if you remember him nor what you did, only that when he dons a mortal face to take a walk in the calms before the storm, he finds himself wandering to your garden, mostly on cold nights where you would just sing to the lilies and watch them, with unfading enchantment, bloom. 

In a distant memory of an old lover, he hears the same voice but now there stood you. Now a lady, barely a woman with your innocence and mischief.

And he knows that this is wrong, mortals are fleeting as the dust, that he can never grasp with his two hands. Wherever his heart is on anything, other than Liyue, it only ends in tragedy. And oh, how ironic of it all that if you really were his goddess that had found her way back to him, why this form? Why a mortal who is a flower that will wither compared to a mountain that does not crumble?

“It’s a beautiful song, pardon me for interrupting but may I know where you have learned it?”

“Only if you tell me what the god of earth is doing in a place like this, barely even concealed?” Playful, you smile at him playfully as if you knew all the time that he had spent staring from afar and he was not an immortal that could smite the very life out of those pretty eyes.

“The breeze carried your voice and I wondered where you had learned to entice it to your will.” He couldn’t really put a finger when it began, when your singing had lured him like a siren to the depth of the sea.

“You befriend the wind, unlike the earth, you do not command rather ask of it like a companion,” was your simple answer and he smiles like he has found something long lost. You drown him in your presence, but he is not breathless; rather he sighs filled with curiosity like a child who has more to learn from the world that he had been in for thousands of years. 

You who had rekindled a reason for his actions, much like Guizhong. This love does not ruffle his heart out of his rib cage, the dust settles and it is as calm as you talking about herbs in this small patch of garden late at night and as calm as the things settle falling into place in his beloved city by the gentle waves of the sea.

“What happened to them after?” You ask your husband, the snow falls outside and you are oh so exhausted to the bone as if the cold had taken all your warmth. He smiles and brushes your cheeks that lost their flush and your skin cold as a corpse, his arms glows gold in the intricate cracks, and you know that this is a bedtime story - though not quite for the night but for the long winter.  

The memory scratches at the back of your mind to be remembered, but a part of you warns that you wouldn’t like how it ends. 

“According to the books, the lord of geo took his love to the heavens.” He finishes with a chuckle of the irony in it all, a kiss to your temple as your eyes drop, heavy and slumber dragging you to its clutches.

Then finally, Zhongli smiles to bid you goodnight.

He watches you sleep soundly. Sleep if humans can even call it that with the lack of breathing, as still as a corpse that had died peacefully in bed while he is left to wonder of a future that had things ended the way his winter story did.

War ensures losts. Victories demand sacrifices. And the price to pay was always his love.

Zhongli would like to believe that had you died of a natural cause: sickness, accident or of old age where he would have held your aging body, he could’ve had the strength to let you pass on.

Rex Lapis would have had your funeral handled by the esteemed WangSheng, and took your passing as another promise to meet on the other side.

But Morax knows, he could never really.

Never let you go, even after thousands of years and all that you know had returned to the soil. Even when the truths of history had been forgotten by the people and you are nothing but a distant whisper to this land, a footnote to his folklore.

Not even now, when every winter is a reminder of the way he held your cold body against his chest, “I worry about you.” You told him with a supposed to be parting smile, how pitiful must he be for a dying mortal that had not even lived half their life to worry about him. 

“Why are you saying goodbye, my love? You aren’t supposed to say goodbye, not yet. It’s much too early,” He tells you with a broken laugh, the war is over like you had asked of him the first time. He is an archcon, the land is his to rule and care, and you are supposed to live many many peaceful years with him, but here you are the embers of war digs its claws in your frail body and had robbed you of life.

 Why does the war take and take and take and he who fights only lose things that he keeps to heart? 

He doesn’t relent, even if it means breaking the laws of nature itself.

Even when you wake in spring, and you look at him with those empty eyes and ask who he is. At Least you’re here, still there somewhere and it might take thousands of years and more, when the mountain has crumbled against time, one day he believes that you will wake again with love in your lips and warmth in your hands.

#yandere zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #geshin impact #genshin impact x reader

[lailoken]

“Ash (Fraxinus excelsior).

In the nineteenth century it was believed that if ash trees failed to produce fruit — keys — disaster was foretold.

In Yorkshire:

Some people every summer examined the ash tree . . . to see whether or not they had produced any seed; for the barrenness of the ash was said to be a sure sign of public calamity. It was a tradition among aged and thoughtful men, that the ash trees of England produced no seed during the year in which Charles the First was beheaded. [Jackson, 1873: 14]

In East Anglia:

The failure of the Crop of Ash-keys portends a death in the Royal Family . . . The failure in question is certainly, in some seasons, very remarkable; many an old woman believes that, if she were the fortunate finder of a bunch, and could get introduced to the king, he would give her a great deal of money for it. [Forby, 1830: 406]

ROWAN Or mountain ash, an unrelated tree which has leaves similar to those of ash, was widely considered to provide protection. Occasionally ash itself was also believed to be protective.

Rowan and ash sticks were used to drive cattle . . . believed to be 'kindly' and both trees were believed to be endowed with properties that ensured no interference from harmful influences. [Larne, Co. Antrim, October 1993]

In rural areas 'even' ash leaves-those leaves which lack a terminal leaflet and therefore have an even number of leaflets-were used in love DIVINATION. In Dorset:

The ash leaf is frequently invoked by young girls as a matrimonial oracle in the following way: The girl who wishes to divine who her future lover or husband is to be plucks an even ash leaf, and holding it in her hand, says:

“The even ash leaf in my hand, The first I meet shall be my man.’

Then putting it into her glove, adds:

‘The even ash leaf in my glove, The first I meet shall be my love.'

And lastly, into her bosom, saying:

‘The even ash leaf in my bosom, The first I meet shall be my husband.'

Soon after which the future lover or husband will be sure to make his appearance. [Udal, 1922: 254]

According to a 52-year-old woman who described how she used ash leaves for divination during her childhood:

Start at the bottom leaflet on the left-hand side and say:

“An even ash is in my hand

The first I meet will be my man.

If he don't speak and I don't speak,

This even ash I will not keep.”

As each word is said, count a leaflet around the leaf until the rhyme is completed (this probably entails going round the leaf several times). When the rhyme is finished, continue by reciting the alphabet until the bottom right-hand leaflet is reached. The letter given to this leaflet gives the initial of your boyfriend. Two or three leaves may be used so that you get a greater range of letters. [Thorncombe, Dorset, June 1976]

In many parts of northern Britain ash was known as esh. In north Lincolnshire:

There is a widespread opinion that if a man takes a newly-cut 'esh-plant' not thicker than his thumb, he may lawfully beat his wife with it. [Britten and Holland, 1886: 170]

Burning the ashen faggot — a faggot made from young ash saplings — was a widespread Christmastide custom in Devon and Somerset during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. According to a late nineteenth-century writer, it was:

an ancient ceremony transmitted to us from the Scandinavians who at their feast of Juul were accustomed to kindle huge bonfires in honour of Thor. The faggot is composed of ashen sticks, hooped round with bands of the same tree, nine in number. When placed on the fire, fun and jollity commence-master and servant are now all at equal footing. Sports begin-jumping in sacks, diving in the water for APPLES, and many other innocent games engage the attention of the rustics. Every time the bands crack by reason of the heat of the fire, all present are supposed to drink liberally of cider or egg-hot, a mixture of cider, eggs, etc. The reason why ash is selected in preference to any other timber is that tradition assigns it as the wood with which Our Lady kindled a fire in order to wash her new-born Son. [Poole, 1877: 6]

Ashen faggots are still burnt in a few West Country pubs, and miniature faggots are occasionally prepared for burning on domestic hearths.

On the evening of January sth ('old' Christmas Eve) at Curry Rivel, a Somerset village situated on the southern edge of Kings Sedgemoor, the wassailers go visiting' around the parish with their wassail song and the ashen faggot is ceremoniously burned at the King William IV public house. The faggot is made from young ash saplings and bound with bonds ('fonds,' 'fronds,' 'thongs,' or 'bonds') of withies (osiers); bramble has been used occasionally in the past. The number of bonds is variable but since the bursting of any one during the burning is a signal to ʻdrink up,' decency and country logic demands a 'reasonable few'. Either five or six are normally used. At the appropriate moment the faggot is placed on the fire, traditionally by the oldest customer-one villager can recall the fag- got being brought in a wheelbarrow as was 'right and proper'-and as each bond bursts there is much cheering and a general clamour for drink. The landlord, Mr John Cousins, prepares a bowl of hot punch for the occasion to augment the barrel of beer usually provided by the house Brewery. Until quite recently cider was consumed in large quantities; the 'brew' of cider and perry donated by the (Langs) Hambridge Brewery in 1957 is particularly remembered. [Willey, 1983: 40]

In the first half of the nineteenth century:

Some towns in Somerset held 'Ashen Faggot Balls'. The one in Taunton on January 2nd, 1826 was 'most respectably attended by the principal families of the town and neighbourhood'. It was still held twenty years later, but by then the event was losing its appeal. [Legg, 1986: 54]

In some parts of southern England ash twigs were carried by children on ASH WEDNESDAY.

In villages around Alton in Hampshire, and as far away as East Meon, near Petersfield, at Crowborough in Sussex, and doubtless in other places, children pick a black-budded twig of ash and put it in their pocket on this day. A child who does not remember to bring a piece of ash to school on Ash Wednesday can expect to have his feet trodden on by every child who possesses a twig, unless, that is, he or she is lucky enough to escape until midday. [Opie, 1959: 240]

I was born and lived as a child in Crowborough . . . On Ash Wednesday it was always the custom to take a piece of the [ash] tree around with you. The piece had to have a black bud, without it it was void. If you were unable to produce the piece when asked the rest of the children could stamp on your toes. I remember one day whan I was playing about with it in school and was told to take it to the front and leave it in the waste- paper basket-and all the way back to the seat had to dodge the stamps! Ever prudent I had another piece for play time! This all stopped at 12 mid-day. [Pershore, Worcester shire, October 1991]

[At Heston, Middlesex, in the 1930s] on Ash Wednesday we all took a twig of ash tree to school and produced it when challenged or risked a kick-and we had to get rid of it at 12 noon. We even risked the wrath of the teacher by rushing to an open window to throw out our twigs as soon as the mid-day dinner bell rang. [St Ervan, Cornwall, February 1992]

A widespread cure for HERNIA involved passing the patient through a split ash sapling, preferably one which had grown naturally from seed and had not previously been damaged by man. The tree was then tightly bound up and as it grew together so the patient would be healed. A full description provided in 1878 by the wife of a Sussex clergyman demonstrates how this cure, which required communal cooperation, was considered to be quite normal:

A child so afflicted must be passed nine times every morning on nine suc- cessive days at sunrise through a cleft in a sapling ash tree, which has been so far given up by the owner of it to the parents of the child as that there is an understanding that it shall not be cut down during the life of the infant that is passed through it. The sapling must be sound of heart, and the cleft must be made with an axe. The child, on being carried to the tree, must be attended by nine persons, each of whom must pass it through the cleft from west to east. On the ninth morning the solemn ceremony is concluded by binding the tree tightly with a cord, and it is supposed that as the cleft closes the health of the child will improve. In the neighbourhood of Petworth some cleft ashes may be seen, through which children have very recently been passed. I may add that only a few weeks since, a person who lately purchased an ash-tree standing in this parish, intended to cut it down, was told by the father of the child who had some time before passed through it, that the infirmity would be sure to return upon his son if it were felled. Whereupon the good man said, he knew such would be the case; and therefore he would not fell it for the world. [Latham, 1878: 40]

Similarly:

A remarkable instance of the extraordinary superstition which still prevails in the rural districts of Somerset has lately come to light at Athelney. It appears that a child was recently born in the neighbourhood with a physical ailment, and the neighbours persuaded the parents to resort to a very novel method of charming away the complaint. A sapling ash was split down the centre, and wedges were inserted so as to afford an opening sufficient for the child's body to pass through without touching either side of the tree. This having been done, the child was undressed, and, with its face held heavenward, it was drawn through the sapling in strict accord- ance with the superstition. Afterwards the child was dressed and simul- taneously the tree was bound up. The belief of those who took part in this strange ceremony is that if the tree grows the child will grow out of its bodily ills. The affair took place at the rising of the sun on a recent Sunday morning, in the presence of the child's parents, several of the neighbours, and the parish police-constable. [Bath and Wells Diocesan Magazine, 1886: 178]

An example ofan ash thus used can be seen in the Somerset Rural Life Museum at Glastonbury. A similar practice could be used to overcome IMPOTENCE.

In Wales the similar ritual was to split a young ash or HAZEL stem and hold it just fastened at the top. This made a symbolic vulva into which the impotent male introduced his recalcitrant organ. Binding up the tree again enabled it to heal, during which the impotence faded. [Richards, 1979: 13]

In Cheshire a cure for WARTS

was to steal a piece of bacon and push it under a piece of ash-bark. Excrescences would then appear on the tree; as they grew, the warts would van- ish. [Hole, 1937: 12]

In Wiltshire sufferers seeking a cure from NEURALGIA were advised:

Cut off a piece of each finger and toe nail and a piece off your hair. Get up on the next Sunday morning before sunrise and with a gimlet bore a hole in the first maiden ash you come across and put the nails and hair in; then plug the hole up. [Whitlock, 1976: 167]

In many areas 'shrew-ashes' were used to cure lameness in cattle and other illnesses. In a letter dated 8 January 1776, Gilbert White of Selborne, Hampshire, wrote:

A shrew-ash is an ash whose twigs or branches, when gently applied to the limbs of cattle, will immediately relieve the pains which a beast suffers from the running of a shrew-mouse over the part affected . . . Against this accident, to which they were continually liable, our provident fore- fathers always kept a shrew-ash at hand, which, once medicated, would maintain its virtue for ever. A shew-ash was made thus:- Into the body of the tree a deep hole was bored with an auger, and a poor devoted shrew- mouse was thrust in alive, and plugged in, no doubt, with several quaint incantations long since forgotten. [White, 1822, I: 344]

In the nineteenth century a particularly well-known shrew-ash in Richmond Park, Surrey. According to the park-keepers' tradition ʻgood Queen Bess had lurked under its shade to shoot deer as they were driven past’ [Ffennell, 1898: 333]. This tree was closely observed by Sir Richard Owen (1804-92), first director of the Natural History Museum in London, who lived near the tree, at Sheen Lodge, from grew 1852.

Either the year he came to live in the park or the year after . . . he first encountered a young mother with a sick child accompanied by 'an old dame', 'a shrew-mother', or, as he generally called her a 'witch-mother'. They were going straight for the tree; but when they saw him, they turned off in quite another direction till they supposed he was out of sight. He, however, struck by their sudden avoidance of him, watched them from a distance, saw them return to the tree, where they remained some little time, as if busily engaged with it; then they went away. He was too far off to hear anything said, but heard the sounds of voices in unison on other occasions. He heard afterwards from the keeper of Sheen Gate... that mothers with 'bewitched' infants, or with young children afficted with WHOOPING COUGH, decline, and other ailments, often came, some- times from long distances, to this tree. It was necessary that they should arrive before sunrise . . . Many children were said to be cured at the tree. The greatest secrecy was always observed when visiting. This was re- spected by Sir Richard Owen, who, whenever he saw a group advanc- ing towards it, moved away, and was always anxious that they should not be disturbed. He could not tell me in what year he last saw a group approach the tree to seek its aid. He could only say he had seen them often, and thought they continued to come for many years. [Ffennell, 1898: 334]

During a recent survey [of Richmond Park] the site of the old shrew ash was identified. This proved to be . . . the spot where an ancient ash still stood in 1987. A sucker from its roots was still alive, although the tree itself was passé. The storm of autumn brought the trunk down. A railing has now been erected around the remains, which are to be left in the ground, and a young ash is to be planted alongside the stump. Presumably it will eventually replace the old tree, but it means that the site at least will remain identifiable. [Kew, Surrey, February 1994]

There uses included curing EARACHE, RINGWORM, and SNAKE BITES.

The sap of a young ash sapling was used to cure earache. A sapling was cut and put into a fire so that when the stick started to burn the sap came out the end and was caught on a spoon. This could be put on cotton wool and put into the ear. [Daingean, Co. Offaly, January 1985]

Ringworm was more common in my childhood . . . a remedy resorted to was to burn ash twigs in a tin box or similar container and allow the smoke from the smouldering twigs to envelop the affected part—usually arms, neck or face. [Larne, Co. Antrim, October 1993]

Ash leaves are used to combat viper bites. When an animal has been bitten farmers boil ash leaves and give the animal the resulting liquid and place the boiled leaves as a poultice on the bite. Works on people too! [Dorchester, Dorset, February 1992]

Ash sticks were used as weapons.

The Joyces are tinkers . . . they are wary and row among themselves. They do have some fierce fights in which the women join in. When they have each others heads well cut with ash plants they settle down and are as friendly as ever. [IFCSS MSS 750: 242, Co. Longford]

Stories relating to Ireland's past tell of fair-day brawls where ash plants were used and blood flowed freely. [Ballymote, Co. Sligo, May 1994]”

—

The Oxford Dictionary of Plant-Lore

by Roy Vickery

#ash #Oxford Dictionary of Plant-lore #Roy Vickery #tree lore #plant lore #ash tree

[fatefulfaerie]

Brighter

Inspired by @hetsuu and @itsmeyaboi ‘s ramblings so honestly all credit goes to them I just play with a computer keyboard and a word document like a toddler plays with a toy xylophone and a stick. Music comes out because there’s sound y’all but that doesn’t mean I ever know what I’m doing or that it sounds good lol

Spoilers for Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity under the cut:

Link wasn’t a fool, and thus there was no use in denying it.

His claim to the Master Sword had triggered for one reason and one reason only.

He was in love with the Princess of Hyrule. And, in the very moment that he reached for her, wishing that some way, somehow it would be enough to save her, his sword broken and shattered to pieces, the Master Sword shone bright with a renewed purpose.

Link needed to save his love and, chosen hero or not, the Master Sword had allowed him to do just that. It didn’t matter to Link that Her Highness was unaware of his growing love for her. As far as he knew, reciprocation on her end was out of the question and there was no use in inquiring after her feelings. Especially considering the impending fight against Calamity, Link knew he needed to set aside what the the King he swore loyalty to would surely call a frivolous distraction. Link couldn’t afford that with the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders and on the shoulders of the woman he was in love with.

Zelda however, expected to unlock her sealing power with as much ease as Link had pulled the sword that seals the darkness, was fruitless in her multitude of tiring attempts.

By the time the Calamity had befallen upon Hyrule, Zelda’s power awakening seemed a distant dream, a hope too good to be true and a wish that had ruined their expectations of victory.

Onslaught after onslaught, battle after battle, this widespread war seemed one they could never win, warriors forgetting rest in the midst of sleepless nights. At the mere hope that peace may return, that the tide of the war may be turned, warriors of all races attempted to counteract these insurmountable forces.

And yet, like beavers building a dam to stop the rush of a river that was just too strong, it seemed that, stick by stick, Hyrule would wash away into oblivion.

Link himself finally lost hope of victory when he was surrounded by Ganon’s blights, a fierce strike everywhere he turned. And yet, knowing Impa was hurrying Zelda to safety by his quick nod to prompt her, he was determined to fight to his very last breath. The odds were against him and still, he would do nothing else but fight for the slim chance that he may degrade the forces of Calamity Ganon just enough to help Hyrule win, even if by a hair’s breadth. 

“Link!” He heard her exclaim as a bright yellow light surged in the corner of his eye. Link panted as he stood up from where he had crumbled to the ground, hearing Guardians whirring with decreasing power, seeing Ganon’s blights diminish into mere specks, blotted by the light.

Link turned around to find the source of this salvation, expecting perhaps to see an angel, greeting him into the afterlife he was waiting for. Perhaps he had died at that last strike from Thunderblight Ganon and so here was transcending mortality all together.

But when he turned around and instead found Her Highness, his princess, the love of his life with her power finally awakened reaching for him, Zelda had afforded him the tiniest of moments to suspect that she may harbor similar feelings of love for him. Before, of course, the seemingly endless battle waged on. His suspicions had to be set aside.

Zelda unlocking her sealing power was the turning point against the forces of the Calamity. Every soldier fought with a renewed strength at the light in her leadership. It was a hard battle to win, but in under a day, the ashes of war were descending into the dirt of a new Hyrule and a sun was rising on a completely new era.

Link’s suspicions only grew without the pressure of the calamity upon them, although he didn’t know what to do with his quandaries, never being particularly good at voicing them. 

It was only an inkling of suspicion, after all, Link reminding himself that it could have merely been out of fear of losing such an integral warrior that her sealing power was awakened, or the stress of the situation, or just random chance, or any number of things. Jumping to conclusions by acting on his suspicions would be much too embarrassing for him and he would have to leave Hyrule all together. 

Thus, Link assumed he was misinterpreting things and disregarded it.

After the victory over the Calamity, the King insisted that Link take some time off duty. Link, who didn’t quite understand the point or meaning of a break, took the extra time to train. Zelda, who felt her increasing duties had kept her from time with her dear friend, sought him out, soon finding him alone in a training room in the castle.

She stood leaning on a doorway watching him with adoring smile, knowing better than to alert someone armed with a sword and ready for anything. He may accidentally chop her head off thinking her a Bokoblin.

Zelda hoped Link found her at least prettier than a Bokoblin.

Nonetheless, she greeted him after he had sheathed his sword, Link turning his head and bowing immediately.

Zelda insisted he stand up and yet once he did his face paled completely and his eyes had widened with shock. He looked completely frozen, but it wasn’t just because Zelda was only a foot away from him. 

It was because she was glowing golden like the sun, not enough for her to notice, but enough for him.

“Uhm,” he said with a nervous chuckle. His eyes scanned nothing and darted every which way as it came together in his head. This was real, this wasn’t just an illusion, she was really glowing. No one else was around and this was the first time they were alone since the calamity. Link could hardly catch his breath. What was he supposed to do?

“Link?” Zelda asked, tipping her head. “Is something the matter?”

“With me?” Link asked, his voice cracking before he cleared his throat. “N-no of course not, uhm…”

Somehow this was far more nerve-wracking than facing a Lynel. His breaths were heavy and panting. His heart was pulsing out of his chest and his brain felt foggy.

What was he supposed to do?

There was no protocol for this, no guidebook for what to do if you fall in love with the Princess of Hyrule and you find out she may love you back because she’s glowing. Glowing. She is glowing.

“I…I-I have to go,” Link said practically running past her and into the hallways of the castle. Zelda turned her head, following him with her eyes and a furrowing brow. She questioned to herself the rest of the day what was wrong with her knight.

When Link returned to his duty defending Her Highness, his stoicism was borne from trying to keep his love inside, much like it was before the Calamity. Zelda didn’t press the matter of his acting odd around her because of this stoicism. Perhaps things were going back to normal, but at the same time, did she want that?

While guarding the Princess, Link would attempt small things like closing the distance between him and Zelda and trying not to gasp when she emitted a faint glow. He would quickly move away so Zelda wouldn’t notice his experiments, but anyone in their right mind would have noticed them.

Zelda even went so far as to ask Impa and Purah if they noticed anything strange about Link recently, citing his odd behavior. Robbie interjected with his analysis of what he called post-calamity oddity syndrome, but Robbie’s pre-existing eccentric nature made Zelda disregard his analysis as legitimate, although she thanked him for his efforts. Impa and Purah said they noticed nothing odd, and Zelda thanked them as well for their honesty.

Zelda, who was at her wit’s end, was the complete opposite to Link, who was ready to try the next attempt up his sleeve in order to confirm his suspicions.

Link was standing by the door, standing guard much like a statue as Zelda tinkered with Terrako on the other side of the lab. Purah and Robbie were huddled around the diminutive Guardian, all three spouting observations Link didn’t even try to make sense of.

Zelda finally stopped tinkering, her hands letting go of the tools she used and dropping to the table loosely. Link spotted his chance and seized it. He knew not how he was going to explain himself out of this one if his suspicions were incorrect, but he was almost sure of her feelings now.

“With enough parts I’m confident we will be able to restore Terrako in full,” Zelda said as Link approached, Link in particular wiping the sweat off his hands via his Hylian trousers. “I think we may even be clo—”

Link had taken Zelda’s hand, which immediately interrupted what she was saying.

“Link, what are you doing?” She asked as she looked over at him, but his expression was deep with love and his blue eyes somehow reflected gold. Aside from the warm blush on her own cheeks that she was fairly certain he would disregard by now, she wasn’t sure what else he could be looking at.

“Link?” Zelda asked again before she looked over to Purah and Robbie, whose mouths had popped open completely, Purah’s red eyes and Robbie’s goggles reflecting a similar gold sheen.

Zelda finally looked down at herself to see her form absolutely coated in a golden light, Zelda hurrying away from the stool she sat on, declasping her hand from Link’s.

She looked at her glowing palms for a lingering second for she looked to Link, her expression softening from confusion to something akin to love and affection. She started to shake her head.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” she said. “I didn’t know you were acting strange because…because you…”

Zelda couldn’t even bring herself to say it, and Link was smiling, almost warmer than how she beamed. His eyes were sick with love and so were Zelda’s as they stared at each other with an unspoken understanding between them.

“Purah,” Link said. “Do you have goggles like Robbie?”

“Uhh I can,” Purah said, hurrying to a nearby shelf and sorting through a particularly messy stack of all sorts of gadgets and gizmos. She finally found a pair with an “Aha!”

“Be careful with those, now,” Robbie said as Purah returned to his side,. “You break it, you fix it.”

“Oh, so intimidating,” Purah said sarcastically before offering the goggles forward to Link. “Here you go.”

Link chuckled, shaking his head and returning his gaze to Zelda. 

“They’re for your eyes,” Link said. “Not ours.”

Link walked toward Zelda, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. Zelda was already brightening when Purah put the goggles on.

“I love you,” Link whispered. Zelda smiled.

“I love you, too,” she said before they both went in for a kiss, their lips meeting slowly and yet with a passion they couldn’t contain.

The golden light from the laboratory could be seen from the castle and, although Zelda’s power would deteriorate over the next few years, her love for Link only grew.

#zelink #age of calamity #aoc #tloz #the legend of zelda #aoc spoilers #hyrule warriors #hyrule warriors age of calamity

[rithalie-sideblog]

The daughters of Dracula

When Vlad Dracula first hears the prophecy he laughs and bellows with a voice that shakes his castle to the bone. 

Him? Falling in love with a mortal woman? Inconceivable, unheard of, simply a figment of an old man's scribbling imagination.

But then Vlad Dracula starts to think. And wonder. Because for all of his wealth and goods he managed to accumulate he was born a beggar and a thinker, as such happens when one learns life on the streets.

Prophecies have power.

So Vlad Dracula devises a plan. To make sure, he won't fall for the novelty that is a mortal woman, much less give her a son to fulfil the damned prophecy.

The first step he takes, he scours the village for his prey.

Mortal women, of all height and weight, from the plump daughter of the baker to the muscled heiress of the mercenary group. He kidnaps them from ungrateful families and bargains for them and soon his castle is filled with women's voices, their whimpers and terrified sobs. 

He avoids the young ones, as pretty as they might appear because Vlad Dracula might be a monster, but even he had rules by which to live his immortal life.

He never harms the women, despite their hostility and suspicion towards him. He leaves them be for the longest of times and watches as they slowly make the castle their home.

The women clean the spider webs, dust the old forgotten rooms and chambers. 

As they slowly grow more bold, they begin to take down the most horrid paintings from the walls, wash their clothes in the well in the middle of the cursed garden, stringing lines of laundry between the sculptures of demons and gargoyles.

Vlad watches it all happen from his tower, curiosity taking over him as he waits. Observes. Studies.

Finally, one woman seeks him out.

A pretty one, with her hair the color of honey, tangled way past her knees with her unable to cut it without any sharp object.

She demands a knife with a trembling voice and desperation laced with fear.

"Give it back soon." Says Dracula in his velvet voice as he gives her a dagger.

The woman never takes her eyes off of him as she backs away from the room, weapon held tightly in her hand.

By the end of the next week, most women have their hair cut, or braided into something new.

The honey-colored woman comes back with the dagger, placing it delicately in Vlad's outstretched hand. 

And she stays to talk.

A few years pass before most of the women warm up to Dracula, even if for him, it hadn't been much more than a blink.

They smile at him when he passes the corridors of his once gloomy castle, some wave to him, kneeled over the freshly planted potatoes in the gardens that once hosted the most exquisite of Louvre's hedges.

They come to him for his judgement, they trust him with their pleas and for his part, Dracula does his best to judge fairly. Years after Dracula's decision, the first woman wishes for more. He does not chase her away, even if his dark heart remains unchanged, curiosity driving him dangerously close to the edge of destiny's sword.

Vlad wonders if he should kill the woman before she can give birth to his descendant. If she were to bear a boy, the prophecy would come true and everything Dracula had done would have been for naught.

"It's a girl." announces one of the women as she comes out of the birth chamber, hands covered in blood up to her elbows. Vlad tries to not stare at them much as the relief washes over him.

A daughter, no son to slay him, no vengeance to come forth from his mother's mistreatment.

His plan is saved.

There are two more births that follow, and with each child being born a female Vlad grows more confident. Convinced he managed to beat the prophecy, he once again disappears into his tower.

He meets his daughters sometimes.

Pretty creatures, not a flaw to be seen on them. With hair the color of honey, mahogany and obsidian, they look at him with eyes of crimson and sunlight and moonlight, their sharpened ears uncovered proudly in the safety of his home, his vast galleries and libraries.

Dracula goes down deep into the guts of his castle and brings up the jewelry, old dress materials and sewing kits for them to use. He does not care what they do with the gift, but something like pride flashes in his eyes as he catches a glimpse of them covered in gold and silk.

As they grow, they get more and more bold, coming to his tower and asking questions about the world and life outside their castle.

Their Inquiries rarely go unanswered.

Dracula begins to let the mortal women go, the youngest of them past the age of her prime now. Some of them leave, but some of them stay, unwilling to uproot their lives again and comfortable with what they learned. Dracula begins to travel, living his years free of the burden of the prophecy, confident that his fate has finally been changed.

So when an angry woman shows up at the door of the castle, a three-year-old with crimson eyes' hand, gripped in hers, it comes as quite a surprise.

Dracula kills the woman, for she was not one of his, one of them, despite the claim she made upon Dracula's paternal role in the child's life. 

The daughters that greeted her warmly once she arrived had not known such violence before. They lick their lips and wrangle their hands at the sight of blood before them, and when Dracula sees that he gives them the woman's body to feast upon.

The boy is spared, if only for the foolishness of one of the women who rushes him outside when the carnage begins. 

He runs and when Vlad finds out about it, he flies after him in hot pursuit, but the boy is nowhere to be found. The prophecy protects him and fate is on his side and no matter where Dracula looks he cannot find him.

No harm befalls the woman who helped him, but upon hearing about the prophecy she weeps, for she did not know what calamity she brought upon her host. She leaves the castle in shame.

Three daughters of the Dracula grow hungry for blood, their beauty shining in its ethereal light brighter than before. Vlad feeds them and begins to teach them. Slowly but steadily he allows them entrance upon his dark and shrunken heart. They become his confidants as Dracula admits his defeat against the prophecy, preparing for the final act of the play. 

If his daughters showed promise even unattended, they shine with brilliance under his attention. Soon the castle is alive with the sound of magic, verbal disputes and turned pages.

When the child, now a man fully grown, comes back, bearing the Alucard title, Dracula steps forward to battle his destiny. He makes his daughters swear not to join him, and stay far away from the fight, for he had made arrangements for his knowledge to live on in them were he to fail.

Alucard is strong, but not as strong as his father.

He is quick, but not as quick as Dracula.

He is vengeful and drunk on the prophecy's promises, but not quite as desperate as Vlad is.

And yet, what finally brings The almighty Dracula to his knees is the fact that Alucard isn't quite as honorable as him.

When the edge of Alucard's blade rests against the honey-haired daughter of the Dracula he stops fighting.

After many years of undead existence, his daughters became his legacy, and he refuses to lose even a slight part of it.

Dracula's pause gives Alucard a chance to defeat him, and as he does that, all three daughters cry out in anguish.

Dracula's body caves in itself and turns to ash, and as Alucard lifts his fist in triumph, ready to claim the castle and all of its wealth as he was promised, he is met not with the radiant smiles of the saved woman but with weeping and sneers. The woman may have hardly loved the monster who kidnapped them, but his presence meant safety. It meant freedom to pursue what they desired, no mortal husband or any kin present to dictate their lives.

Three daughters of the Dracula weep the loudest, and through their tears they growl and hiss, blind in their rage. They chase Alucard out of the castle, the man unable to defend himself against their fury.

The brown and dark-haired ones stay on the stairs of the castle, but the honey-colored one chases Alucard to the edge of the woods, red droplets of blood flying from the spot where he threatened her. She almost gets him, her claws marking the tree, behind which he ducked with three deep lines.

And when the dust finally settles and the castle stops trembling with the sobs of the grieving women, they all come together to plan.

The rumors grow, ones of an imposing castle deep in the woods, that one day disappeared from all maps. 

Some say it's still there, just concealed with the magic of a really powerful witch, no matter what the church claims about having burned them all.

Others think it crumbled to the ground, unable to stand any more without its master there to keep it together. 

The Vatican claims to have destroyed it in the name of God, the village men grow bold enough to boast about the treasure they supposedly stole from there.

Alucard's tale grows, even as the man shrinks into itself, once his prophecy has been fulfilled and his sole reason to exist finally slayed. 

Very few remember Vlad Dracula's daughters, but there are traces of them left in the history.

Hushed female voices telling each other stories over the fire. Tales of the place where husbands' heavy hand won't ever reach. 

Rumors of libraries and workshops where all the knowledge is at your fingertips, your fate finally yours to choose.

Whispered clues to find the farthest tree on the south of the main road, its bark marked with three fine lines in the shape of the hand, and to march three hundred steps north of it.

And finally, three names to call forth when you reach the clearing, given to their daughters by the desperate mothers who wish for a better life to happen upon them.

Do you know the names? 

Did you ever have to call for them, deep in the night, three hundred steps away from the tree where a daughter almost avenged her father's death?

Don't you know the heart of greed and entitled desires? Have you ever heard of self-fulfilled prophecies? Didn't you see the hate in the eyes of the people?

Don't let them know.

Whisper the daughters names in the night, gain their strength. 

And don't let the world know where we are.

#dracula #writing #short story #inspired by castlevania but has nothing else in canon #Alucard was also in the movies! #It's the term here #not a specified blond-maned character #short study #rithalie #rithalie writing #vampires