#or crenelated hills

[no-shirts-in-scotland]

Beloved Highlander

They look to me like they’re having a conversation.

“Yes, it is a bit chilly up here.  That wind’s coming straight out of Norway!” “Actually, do you think I could get my skirt back down? I know it’s less sexy, but - erm - bits of me are getting cold.”

Also, do you think he’ll take his sword off before they make love or is it going to be some kind of prop?

Nice that the hills are entirely crenelated, but a shame that the rest of Scotland appears to be on fire.

Gregor Grant returns to his beloved Highland home Glen Dhu only to find his father has lost the family estate. It now belongs to the enchanting Lady Mackintosh. Gregor leaves, vowing not to return, but years later, Lady Mackintosh finds herself in need of help. Gregor is the only person who can help her, how can she enlist his help?

"Gregor Grant! Where is the key to the shed? I CAN'T GET INTO THE SHED!"

#Beloved Highlander #Sarah Bennett #sexy sword prop #miniature castle #or crenelated hills #YOU DECIDE! #I don't want to worry you darling but Scotland is on fire #I bet he took all the lightbulbs when he left too

[notasocialismjoke]

so i've had a couple of nightmares about the gloom spawn in the past few months. i'd gotten jump scared a few times by them already but then i ended up reading about the locations of a few of them and realized that, on several occasions, i'd managed to walk right past one without spawning it and that got me so spooked that i had to set the game down for a few weeks.

thankfully, some time, the realization that they fucking despawn if you climb a tree lol, and seeing porn of then pop up on my dash was enough to quell the fear that the first thing i did upon going back in was to find and kill the nearest one, and now i'm going on a quest to kill every single one of these fuckers in revenge 🤗

(in the first nightmare i had about them, they had ten hands instead of five, almost like there were two together. thank goodness there's nowhere in the game that two gloom spawn appear next to each other, right?)

#zelda #zelda totk #totk #totk spoilers #they seriously are all bark and no bite though #haven't actually checked if the two at crenel hills can spawn at the same time #i didn't see the second until after i'd killed the first

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction

Chapter Thirteen - Jump

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Masterlist

When you previously thought about battles, you never considered how loud they would be. The amount of screaming and metal hitting metal is something you’ll never forget. Truly, you’re not sure if the ringing will leave your eardrums after this fight.

If you even manage to make it out alive.

Morbidly, you’ve lost track of how many Erban soldiers you’ve taken down. Left and right, you cut through them with your sword in both hands. 

The shield of absorption is still strapped tightly to your back. You prefer to just fight with your sword, but the shield is there when you need it. Since you’ve gotten it, you’ve only trained a few times with it. It felt clunky and obnoxious.

Having just a sword to worry about left you faster and more nimble.

Every soldier had charged down the hill after several rounds of arrows were fired at the Fort.

The enemy soldiers rallied fairly quickly considering the circumstances. They fired back rounds of arrows in a way less synchronized manner than Miroh.

A large battalion had come out of the front gates that were quickly shut behind them. That’s when Miroh charged down the hill and swords finally clashed. 

It was an instant bloodbath. 

A soldier charges from your left and swings at your head, you duck underneath the sword and plunge your sword through his gut. Air is pushed from his chest and blood is coughed up and onto your arm and a bit on your clothes. 

Your face screws up into a disgusted expression and you bring your boot up to kick him off your blade. 

It wasn’t the first soldier to bleed on you, and it certainly will not be the last. 

Another soldier comes charging from in front of you with his battle-ax held high in the air. You step to the side and slice upwards at the same time. A gash opens up in his chest and he falls to the ground. 

Second after second, you cut down enemies. It’s disgusting how easy it is to get through the horde. 

But why does it feel like you’re not making any progress?

Just when you think the army is thinning, the fort’s gate will open for about thirty seconds to let more soldiers out and then promptly shut. The Miron soldiers that make it close to the door are shot down with arrows. 

“Find a way into the Fort!” Changbin’s voice bellows over the field. You have no idea where he is in this mess, you just hope he’s faring well.

His voice was strong and carried through the air, that was a good sign. 

After stabbing and killing a soldier, you look up at the stone walls. They seem impenetrable. Archers are positioned at the crenelations on top of the turrets firing arrow after arrow down below. 

Arrows whiz by your head occasionally, but it’s clear they’re more focused on the soldiers by the gate. 

Your eyes scan down the wall. Not a single crack or chip for you to take advantage of. 

Is there a back entrance? No, Erbus is not that daft. 

A small danger sense tingles in the back of your mind and you duck down as fast as possible. 

The distinct whoosh of a sword zings over your body where you once stood. You kick your leg out and spin around, tripping the soldier who swung at you. 

He falls to the ground with a yelp. You waste no time by straddling his chest and slitting his throat. 

How disgusting it is how easily you took his life. 

You want to feel remorse, you do. So badly you want your throat to tighten and your muscles to give pause each time you go to strike; you yearn to hesitate. 

Blood and dirt cover every inch of your body. Internally, in the back of your mind, a small part of you begs and pleads for your stomach to flip. For chills to zip up your body and bile to rise in your throat from the gruesome and cruel nature of your actions. 

But you can’t. 

Because they never did. 

Never once did you see an Erban soldier hesitate before inflicting such horrible pain upon Elves. 

So, when you watch the fear and horror in this soldier’s eyes fade into milky-white nothingness, you feel fine. 

The grip on your sword tightens and you stand to your feet. With a great flourish and sword spin at your side, you stride up to a soldier with his back turned and slice upwards in a wide arc. 

He screams and falls to the ground.

Not wasting any momentum, you spin and bring your sword back down on another. 

They fall like blades of grass. Like trees in a lumberyard. 

This is battle? Nameless death? 

You can do that. No problem. 

Another swing of your sword, another life taken, another step towards freedom. 

In your path, you see Jeongin. He appears to be holding his own very well. But the enemy seems to take note of that rather quickly. 

The horde turns and focuses on him. 

Easily six soldiers shift their attention to the squire and stalk closer with their swords raised. With armor as shiny and beautiful as his, it’s easy to mark him as ‘important’ on the battlefield. 

Jeongin spins around and fights off two soldiers at once with practiced precision.

But, after endless mornings and afternoons of sparring with him, you’re able to easily pick up on the signs of him beginning to struggle. His eyes are wide as he takes in the sheer number of enemies around him, inching closer and closer.

There’s an imperceptible bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows his fear and steels his nerves. Jeongin grabs his sword with both hands and swings his sword around and cuts in a large arc to slice a soldier who drops to the ground immediately. 

But still, the enemy moves closer to him, creating a circle around him.

Immediately, your boots shift in the dirt and you fight your way over to the squire. 

His hair is dripping with sweat and matting to his forehead. Brows are furrowed in anger and concentration. And, like yours, blood splatters cover his armor. It still shines when it catches the light but so many patches are sullied.

A soldier to his left raises his sword above his head, but Jeongin is too focused on the one in front of him to notice. 

Fear seizes your heart in its vice grip. 

You reach down quickly and unsheath the small dagger you keep tucked in your boot. 

“Jeongin!” You yell across the battlefield. He doesn’t react but you know he heard you. “Duck!”

Faster than you can blink, and all in one motion. You launch the dagger in his direction and he drops to his knees into the dirt. It embeds into the soldier’s chest and he falls backwards and creates a small domino effect with two others. 

With your body still in motion, you finish your sprint in his direction and at the last moment, drop to the ground in a slide, taking out the feet of the original soldier he was against. 

The soldier falls to the dirt so fast and hits the ground with a solid thud.

A sword is immediately stabbed through his chest. 

Jeongin stares at you for two heartbeats from above you. His eyes are shining with an unreadable emotion. Gratitude? Awe? Something else, too.

There’s no time to focus on it. He reaches down and grabs the front of your collar, yanking you to your feet. 

You use the momentum of his tug to propel yourself towards another soldier. 

He’s ready for your slice and meets your sword with his own. Behind you, you can hear Jeongin begin to slash at another enemy. 

Pushing against the Erban soldier’s sword, your swords arc in a circle still joined together. He brings his sword away and then swipes at your left, you meet the strike and parry away from it. 

Three or four more swipes come your way and you dodge each one of them. This soldier wasn’t letting up. The evil glint in his eye only sharpened as time went on.

With a grunt of exertion, you push away his sword, bring your foot up and kick him square in the chest. The soldier barks a cough and stumbles backwards. Within two heartbeats, you swing your sword and take his head clean off his shoulders.

There’s no time to rest, another soldier slides into view and slices at you. Your body leans backwards away from the dangerous swipe. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, he swipes again and you bring your sword up to meet his. You both hit against one another for a few seconds. 

Behind you, you can hear Jeongin taking on his own battles. 

The two of you fought back to back, watching each other’s flanks at the same time. 

Looking down to your left you see your dagger sticking out of the soldier you threw it at. 

In one smooth motion, you lean down and yank it out of the dead body, then you duck underneath the enemy soldier’s swing.

His momentum carries his body into a spin. You reach around and slit his throat from behind. 

He drops to his knees with a few pitiful gurgles. When you turn and look at Jeongin, he finishes off the last soldier surrounding the two of you. 

The two of you make eye contact. Both of your chests are heaving with heavy breaths. 

Any moment now that gate is going to open and release another flood of Erban soldiers, starting the whole process over. 

You look away from him up at the wall, sheathing your dagger back in your boot. 

Miroh needed a way in and they needed it fast. 

You made up your mind in a split second, you charged towards Jeongin and grabbed his arm. He looks down at you concerned, his entire body facing yours and only a hair’s breadth away. 

“Follow me.” You say to him. 

All he does is nod and the two of you work your way through the throng of soldiers, cutting down any enemies that get in your way. 

----------------------------------------------

Eventually, the two of you make it out of the horde and around to the side of the fort. 

There are no soldiers back here, it’s almost eerily quiet. The screaming and sounds of battle still close by yet at the same time sound distant. 

Both of you press your backs into the stone to keep your presence unknown. 

Heavy, labored breathing is still coming from both of your lungs. You can’t seem to catch your breath yet. 

“Why?” Is all Jeongin is able to wheeze out. 

“We need a way in. And I can only think of one.” You gasp out and look straight up at the wall. 

Jeongin follows your gaze and then looks back down at your face. “You must be mad. I cannot toss you that high.”

You swallow and clear your throat in an attempt to calm your racing heart. Pushing yourself off the wall, you reach around your back and take the shield off your back. 

“You do not need to.” You tell him, looking down at the engraved metal. 

You strap the shield onto your arm and hold it out to him. 

“Kick this as hard as you can.”

Jeongin’s bewildered expression only gets more confused. “Were you hit in the head?” He exclaims. 

“Your hits are stronger than mine, Jeongin! Just trust me and kick the shield. I can take it!” You order him and bend your knees to keep your balance. 

The two are you are pressed for time and frantic. Every second you spend bickering is a second lost in battle. 

Jeongin’s hand tightens around his sword tightly before he drops it in the grass. 

Your stance deepens and you brace yourself for the impact. 

There’s a shuffle of dirt before you feel possibly one of the hardest kicks in your life bash into the shield. It takes more effort than you expected to stay on your feet. 

A loud grunt and groan tears from your throat and the impact shoots up your arms and into your shoulders. 

The air seems to take a deep breath, the metal vibrates on your arm. 

You lift your head up from behind the shield and see Jeongin staring down at you even more concerned than before. 

“Now,” you say, taking the shield off your arm and thrusting it towards him. “When I jump, you are going to lift and push me up with the shield. And I am going to get up there and find a way to open the gate.”

He listens to your words intently and then stumbles back a step in shock. 

“What? You cannot possibly— By yourself— you cannot be serious!” He rambles and stutters his words. His eyes are wide and his face pales. One of his hands threads through his hair and pulls nervously. 

“Jeongin this is the only way.” You thrust the shield towards him again and he only takes a few steps backwards again, his hands held up away from you. 

“It is not! We will find another way! That is suicide, Y/N!” 

You chase after him with a step of your own. “Unless you can think of another option in the next thirty seconds, this is what we have to go with.”

“No.” He says sternly, although his voice breaks. “Absolutely not, I am not doing this to you. I cannot send you in by yourself!”

“Jeongin.”

“You cannot take on that many soldiers by yourself. It will only end up with you being killed.”

“Jeongin.”

“And if they discover that you are an elf before that—  By The Six, death is the easiest outcome. They will gut you for sport and turn your–”

“Jeongin!”

You reach forward and grab him by the back of the neck, bringing your foreheads together. 

His eyes snap down to yours and his labored breathing fans out over your skin. You can feel how clammy and sweaty his neck is as it drips down from his hair. 

“This is the only way.” You whisper to him. 

A strangled cry comes from deep within his throat and you can practically feel his heart breaking as if it was your own. 

“It is the only way.” You repeat, even softer. 

Jeongin brings his hands up and grabs both sides of your face. His hands are just as hot and clammy as the back of his neck. 

“Y/N, I cannot–” He whimpers and you cut him off once more.

“You will do this for Miroh.”

Jeongin’s nose scrunches. Just by looking in his eyes you can see the internal war going through his mind. 

Finally, he relents with a dismal sigh. His eyes begin to glisten with unshed tears. 

“You come back to us. To me . You open that gate and you come back.” Jeongin utters, he’s trying to sound so strong but fear makes itself evident in his thick voice. To emphasize his point, Jeongin shakes your head slightly.

“I will return, I swear it.”

Both of you stare into the other’s eyes. A bead of sweat drips down the side of his face, exhale after exhale tickles your lips. 

Jeongin’s bottom lip pulls between his teeth and his eyebrows furrow, his eyes flicker back and forth between yours. The cogs in his brain are turning at an alarming speed. The grip on your face tightens a bit.

Time is running out.

You have to go, and you have to go now . 

“Please.” He whispers to you. It feels desperate, pleading. He holds you like if he kept you here long enough, you wouldn’t need to go. “There has to be another way.”

“There is not.”

Your fingers start to slip off the back of his neck and his grip only tightens. 

“Jeongin, we need to do this now.” 

The way his eyes shift turns frantic and the muscles of his face pull into a painful expression. 

“I am sending you to your death.” His voice wavers and his chin trembles.

“You are sending me to our victory.”

After another heartbeat, you stand up on your toes and press a long kiss to his cheek. He takes in a slow inhale through his nose. His skin is wet from perspiration. He turns into your kiss, eyes closing to stop tears from flowing. 

A single sob wracks his chest.

You keep your lips pressed there for a long moment before finally peeling yourself away from him. Jeongin’s hands slowly fall from your face. 

“Now.” You say to him before you can regret it, shoving the shield in his direction. He reluctantly takes it from your arm. His eyes don’t leave your face, they’re concentrated on your movements. Even as he adjusts the shield on his arm, he’s staring at you the entire time.

You’re too busy swallowing your fear to notice. 

You turn and walk away from the wall so that you can get a running start. After three steps, there’s a sharp tug on your wrist and you’re brought back to the squire.

When you open your mouth to question what he was doing you’re silenced with a pair of chapped lips upon your own. They’re pressed against you in a harsh, desperate manner. It’s rushed and full of heavy emotions.

Your teeth almost clack together with how roughly he pulled you in.

A shock of electricity shoots down your spine and in through your toes. Jeongin’s hand moves from your wrist to cup your face again, keeping your lips pressed against his. 

You hear a quiet whimper emit from the back of his throat. A forceful exhale comes through his nose.

As if it wasn’t beating fast enough, your heart rate spikes and thuds against your chest. 

Your eyes widen in shock and then flutter shut after a moment. 

It’s chaste, but so much is said through this simple action. 

The kiss only lasts for a few seconds before Jeongin pulls away, looking down at you with an entirely different expression.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times in shock. 

“I could not let you go and possibly live with regret.” he utters and your heart melts. A painful smile appears on your face and you stare into his eyes before backing away.

You have to go. You have to .

His hand once again leaves your face and the distance between you two feels colder– thicker. The string that connects your heart to his pulls taught. 

You back up about ten paces from the wall, Jeongin stands at the base, knees bent and shield ready to launch you. 

His eyes are shining with unshed tears, his lips pulled in a thin line.

“You will come back to us.” He demands.

“I would not dream of leaving you.” 

He nods, you nod.

With a deep breath, you steel your nerves.

Who knows if this will even work? Only one way to find out.

You stare at the shield and pause for one second before taking off.

At the last minute, you jump into the air, Jeongin’s eyes follow your movements closely.

“Now!” You yell and he pushes up into your legs.

A loud clap rings over the field, an unbelievable force propels you into the air. Wind whips through your hair as you fly upwards. 

It worked!

You’re launched just high enough to grab onto the edge of the wall, your fingers tightly holding onto the stone. As quick as you can, you hoist yourself up and over.

“By The Six,” you mutter to yourself, looking around. “I cannot believe that worked.”

----------------------------------------------

There are no soldiers on the wall where you knelt down, they must all be towards the front shooting arrows down below into Miroh’s forces.

The fort itself is surrounded by the large wall you stood on now. There are about four turrets in the middle of the wall all around the perimeter. The section you’re in now was completely empty. Barrels and crates of various supplies line the inner walls.

Ducking down behind the stone, you make your way over to the first turret. Bending down, you pull the dagger out from your boot.

If you’re correct, this should be the only turret you have to go through to get to the main section where the gate was.

In most Forts you’ve seen, the way to open the gates are usually on the wall above them or right below them. You’re desperately hoping it’s up here with you.

You grab the handle of the wooden door and take a deep breath, gripping your dagger tightly. 

Slowly, you push open the door, peering inside as soon as you can. No voices come from inside, but it’s also hard to hear with the battle happening around you.

Crouching, you make your way into the room.

Another door sat on the opposite side, you make your way over that way.

You’re on high alert, your eyes frantically scanning around the room. It’s almost suspicious that there’s no one here with you.

A sharp tug on the back of your head brings a sharp cry out of your throat.

You spoke too soon.

“What do we have here?” A gruff voice says behind you and you reach backwards with your free hand to try and pry his hand off your hair. “Now how did a Miron soldier get all the way up here?”

“Get off me!” You thrash around, but his grip only tightens.

You’re yanked to your feet and he holds you to his chest, a dagger is brought around to press against your throat.

You gulp and your mind begins racing.

“No, I think I will take care of you right here.”

Without a second thought, you bring your boot down on his foot as hard as possible. The soldier cries out and his grip loosens in shock. 

You grab the hand that held the dagger and twist it, bringing it behind his back. Once you’re behind him, you kick in the back of his knees so he falls to the ground.

On the way down, you take your own dagger out and slit his throat without a second thought. Blood spurts out from the wound and he falls face first onto the stone.

It truly is kill or be killed. 

You roll your head around to stretch out your neck. His dagger sits on the stone, you pick it up and hold it tightly. You sheathe your own but keep his in your hand.

A huff leaves your lips and you walk to the door without looking back.

Opening the door, you’re met with a lot more yelling and screaming. 

Looking out along the wall, your eyes quickly count ten soldiers firing arrows over the side. None of them have noticed you yet, they’re too focused on the battle below.

What you also take note of is the large wooden crank on the other side of these ten soldiers.

The gate crank.

Ten? You can do ten.

…

Maybe.

You take a deep breath and then take off running down the wall. All of the archers are leaning over the side, none of them have noticed you yet. 

The thud of your boots on the stone isn’t heard over the sound of battle, this is definitely working to your advantage.

Within seconds, you’re up on the first archer. You drop your shoulder and full force run into him

The soldier screams and loses his balance immediately, his body falling over the edge and down to the dirt. If he’s not dead from the impact, he will be from a Miron sword soon enough.

The archer nearest to him snaps his head over to look at you, before he can make a sound, you throw the dagger in your hand straight into his face. It embeds in his forehead and he falls backwards over the wall. 

Two down, eight to go.

There are crates in front of the next three soldiers. You unsheathe your sword quickly.

Once again, you get a running start and as soon as you make it to the crates, one of the three soldiers notices your presence and yells, alerting the other guards.

By the time the other soldiers turn to look, you’ve jumped up on the crates like large stepping stones and you’re using your body like a battering ram to take the three of them down to the ground at the same time. 

With the momentum from your jump, you’re able to stab through the first soldier and into the next one. 

Pitiful gasps leave their lungs and the third soldier cries out as the heap of you hits the stone.

You’re unable to get your sword out in time, so you grab an arrow from a nearby quiver and stab it right through his eye socket. 

The disgusting squelch that the injury makes almost turns your stomach. Almost. 

Five more.

At this time, the remaining soldiers have all turned their attention on you. Three of them charge at you.

Standing up to your feet, you grab your sword by the hilt and yank it out of the bodies. There’s a barrel on the opposite side of the wall, you grab the top and pull it over.

Once it hits the ground, you kick it with your foot and it whirls towards them.

The first soldier is quick to jump over it, but the other two don’t see it coming and are knocked over.

An arrow whizzes past your arm, but you pay no mind to it. 

You sprint up to the soldier still standing and when he swipes his sword at you, you dodge to the side and swing yours back at him. It gashes through his chest and he collapses.

The two other soldiers have recovered and are back on their feet.

Another arrow goes by you. 

You charge the two of them.

They attempt to flank you on either side. Both of them swing their swords at the same time and you drop to the ground and slide underneath their swords. 

The swords clang as they hit one another. 

Quickly, you stand to your feet before another swipe comes by your head, you duck underneath it. The other soldier chops at you and you evade that one as well. 

A third arrow.

You raise your sword up and block that attack. You push his arm down and force him to recoil.

Swinging your leg backwards, you kick back into the legs of the first soldier. He drops to one knee to recover, you spin on the stone, and bring your sword down to slice at his body.

Dead.

The second soldier lunges at you, you grab his arm and pull it towards you, twisting it to lock his elbow, he turns and cries out in pain.

He’s slightly shorter than you, his head falls back by your collarbone.

Your grip on his arm is deadly tight, you turn both of your bodies at the last minute just as another arrow is shot towards you.

It embeds right into his chest. 

Two more.

You toss the body to the side as if it’s nothing more than a sack of flour.

Both of the archers are staring at you as if you’re a demon that just crawled out from the Void. You’re absolutely covered in blood and dirt. Your hair is wild and flying through the wind.

They’re only about ten or so steps from you, so you take off running.

One of them lets out a fearful yell, it looks like he’s about to turn tail and run the other way. The other one knocks an arrow with shaking hands.

Right as he shoots, you jump to the side and it flies past you.

He only has a bow out, his sword is firmly strapped to his hip. He didn’t even think to take it out.

When you’re upon him, you raise your sword above your head. 

He screams. 

Your sword is brought down into his skull. 

One.

Wildly, you turn your head to look at the other soldier. But he’s long gone, sprinting down the wall towards where you had come from.

You want to care, you do. But there’s nothing you can do now.

A tired exhale leaves your lungs and you turn and look down at the large wooden crank. A relieved smile breaks over your face and you walk up to it, dropping your sword down to the stone next to it.

With every ounce of strength you have left, you grab and crank it as fast as you can.

The battlefield erupts in various screams; some of confusion, horror, and celebration. For a moment you wonder if any of those yells are Jeongin’s.

“Into the fort!” Changbin’s voice is the loudest. “Go! In!”

With a deep breath, you turn and look around for a way to get down to rejoin the fight.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #han jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader #felix x reader #jeongin x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #skz x y/n #stray kids fantasy au #skz fantasy au #animals without direction

[noodyl-blasstal]

Not that kind of apocalpyse!

Sometimes you might ask yourself, “What if Taakitz kissed in the historical fish castle during the zombie apocalypse?” Well I answered it.

Happy Birthday @ceilingfan5!

Read below or on Ao3

-

“There’s someone outside!” Lup shouts from her spot at the periscope.

Fuck. Of course Taako was going to have to deal with this on his watch. The trouble always waited until Magnus was busy flexing somewhere else and Merle was off doing unspeakable things in the garden. 

“Someone, or something?” He asks. He tries not to let the weariness creep into his tone, but Taako’s so tired of this bullshit. First he got called in on his first day off in weeks… months? Who fucking knows any more; then he got zombie apocalypsed; and now everyone’s trying to eat him and not in the good way. Not that there’s any chance of boning down with anyone in the near future because he’s related to, or may as well be related to, everyone he knows is currently alive - well, apart from the peppy idiots on the radio who keep advertising their ‘zombie free wonderland’, but Taako doesn’t trust easily and whatever they’re selling seems too good to be true. 

“Cha’girl said what she said.” Lup doesn’t move away, just adjusts the scope.

“People?”

“Person, singular, a guy I think.” 

“Are you definitely sure he’s people?”

“Are you definitely sure you want to keep asking me?” Lup doesn’t pull her eyes away from the periscope, but she does give him the finger. It’s artful really, her spatial awareness is a thing of wonder.

Before he can think, Taako opens his mouth to pretend to bite it off, it’s reflex as much as anything, but he closes it gently, doesn’t snap his teeth. That bit is a lot less funny than it used to be. Watching a loved one nearly get chomped will do that for you.

“Can I see?” Taako asks instead of answering, he’s not going to do anything completely out of character like admitting fault.

“Hang on…” Lup turns the scope side to side. Fuck.”

“What?”

“Shush a minute.” Lup hisses.

Ah yes, telling Taako to shush, the thing that works every time. “What’s going on?”

“Shit! Run, dude, run” She mutters.

“Lup! What’s happening?”

“Biter.” She turns the scope slowly. “Two… At the moment. I don’t know if he’s seen them.”

“Do you want Taako to…?” Taako gestures at the ladder up to the harpoon gun.

Lup stays fixed to the scope but still manages to nod. “Be ready, see if he needs it. He’s by the unfortunately shaped hill, but he’s moving fast towards the tree that looks like it’s doing a high kick.”

Taako climbs up the ladder into the ramparts and pulls the shutter back from the slightly-wider-than-intended crenellation (thanks to Magnus’ enthusiasm). He zeroes in fast with Lup’s directions. There’s definitely two of them, if not more, lurking behind the dude as he walks. Taako hopes he’s aware of them. He could be, the guy’s walking with purpose. He’s glad, Taako hates dawdlers, not least because he used to be one by choice and now he has to zoom everywhere because he’d like to keep living actually please and thank you.

“You didn’t tell me he was hot!” Taako bellows down to Lup. A crime of the highest order, frankly, it’s been a while since Taako’s had anything good to look at and he could have been looking much faster.

“You can’t see him well enough to know if he’s hot or not, he’s too far away.” Lup yells back. 

The guy turns his head in their direction. It’s a nice face, a really nice face, that he’s working with there.

“See! Hot!” Taako refuses to let her get away with this on a technicality. He knew in his bones the guy was good looking, Lup should have too. He sticks his tongue out in her direction. She might not be able to see him, but she’ll know.

“He’s coming this way.” She shouts up.

“What?” Taako looks back, using the wildly inaccurate harpoon sights that Barry was definitely getting round to fixing (it was for the best he left them alone at this point, Taako automatically adjusted for it now.) Hot boy had changed trajectory and was heading their way. “But there’s… fuck!”

Taako slides the harpoon to the side, sees the biter who was lurking on the guy’s tail. Shit. It’s close, too close. He jumps up and bellows with everything in him. “Hey, hey handsome! Watch out!” He’s too hot to die. 

They make eye contact and this is it, this is the thing they wrote about, that they sing about, that’s on the TV. It’s electric, it’s perfect, it’s… 

“Run you absolute dickhead!” Lup bellows from beside Taako. He needs to get her a bell. “Stop staring at my idiot brother and run!” She elbows Taako and mutters. “Idiot.”

The man shakes out of it and glances round in time to see the biter on his tail. Taako hears the faint “Oh fuck!” on the wind as the guy starts running. Thankfully in the direction of the drawbridge. Shit. The drawbridge.

“We need to let him in.” Taako says, urgently.

“C’mon.” Lup’s already heading for the ladder.

Taako scrambles after her, slides down the ladder, and lands in a roll. He jumps up and does the ‘tah dah!’ arms, but Lup’s already gone. That’s fine, he can appreciate his own talents, he doesn’t need adoration from the masses or anything.

Lup yanks on the lever that releases the drawbridge and the portcullis raises at speed, narwhal horns raising up to hang like as many sharp teeth. They’ve saved them all a few times.

“Go go go!!!” Taako yells, hopefully encouragingly. He’s sure not going out there, but shouting he can do.

“I’m going to get my gun.” Lup mutters.

The man’s close, really close, when the zombie lurches out from behind the tree. Not high kick tree, it would never betray Taako like that, one of the bog standard ones. One of the ones he’s going to burn down because it just killed Taako’s new boyfriend. It’s fine, he’s allowed to get ahead of himself, this dude’s going to be nothing but a ‘what if’ now.

The zombie grabs the man’s arm and tries to bite his hand, the guy twists away, punches it in the face, gives it his best shot. Of course he does, he’s got something to live for, he’s trying to survive, trying to make it to Taako. The biter grabs his ankle and drags him to the floor.

Two spears take down the other zombies before they can reach the man and join the feast.

“I can’t get a clean shot.” Lup says mournfully beside him. She glances round, then walks carefully forward, spear gun raised.

“You have to stop doing that.” Taako hisses and steps along beside her. He’s trying to have a moment here, to give his dying future husband the reverence he deserves. They were going to adopt so many cats. It would have been beautiful. He’s not in the mood to be spooked.

“Counterpoint, you have to work on your awareness.” Lup nudges him.

“No need when I have you, sister mine! Taako’s all good.” He walks carefully beside her, remembers to step over the crack in the resin flagstones left after The Incident.

Lup does the face she does when he pretends he’s not training (he refuses to give up the possibility of being blase about the zombies, even if he’s been doing endless crunches, and parkour, and whatever other nonsense Lup and Magnus insist is going to save their lives, at night when no one’s watching. Well, apart from Agnes, but if he wants Taako to ever bake the cookies he likes again he’ll stay quiet.)

They’re close enough now to see that the zombie’s still gnashing, but the guy’s clearly fighting back. Maybe he’s not a goner yet?

“Maybe we can… you know, help?” Taako glances round and can’t see any others nearby.

“He might be infected… I guess I could…” Lup’s mouth tightens into a hard line.

“No! Don’t help him dead, like, help help!” Taako steps closer gingerly. As he gets into range of grabbing and pulling the biter off, it shudders and goes still. There’s no movement underneath it either. Of course. Brilliant, fucking brilliant. “Just Taako’s luck. The first hot guy cha’boy sees since the apocalypse apocalypsed, and he immediately gets himself chomped.”

Lup pats him sympathetically on the shoulder. “Next time ‘Ko”

“You think I’m hot?” The man asks, rolling the un-undead corpse unceremoniously to the side.

“Fuck!” Lup and Taako jump back as one.

“Stay there!” Lup aims the spear gun squarely at his head. “Did you get bit?”

“You have to tell us if you did, otherwise it’s entrapment.” Taako adds. Because why shouldn’t he have a little fun, honestly. He winks, so the guy knows Taako’s not going to be waving any spears at him… well unless he plays his cards right…

“Who enforces zombie entrapment law?” Hotboy asks as if he genuinely cares, as if he’s passionate about legal rights and wants to make sure the lawyer provided is up to the job. He probably does care. It’s the end of the world and Taako meets someone who’s hot and funny and willing to play legal zombism so of course Taako’s also going to have to put him down or, more likely, watch while Lup does it and try not to cry about it until he’s alone in bed later.

“You’re not allowed to distract us with legalese, that’s also entrapment, probably.” Taako adds authoritatively.

The man  smiles brightly in his direction. “I didn’t get bit.”

“Prove it.” Lup’s aim doesn’t waiver.

The man sighs. “My name’s Kravitz.”

“What does that prove?” Lup makes a ‘get on with it’ gesture with the gun.

“I usually like to make sure a guy knows my name before I strip in front of him.” He doesn’t break eye contact with Taako.

“Taako.” Taaok stares right back. He’s not a looking people in the eyes guy, but this? This is competitive looking, and if there’s anything Taako loves it’s winning.

“I’m Lup and this is gross, break it up right now!” Lup sounds genuinely disgusted. Good, honestly. He’s been living with her and Barold since this all started, he deserves at least a little revenge for his trouble.

“But you said…” Kravitz’s hands still on his leather jacket’s zip.

“I said prove you didn’t get bit. Like, show me your hands and arms and the bits that were actually anywhere near the dead guy. The medic can fully assess you after that.”

“Fine.” He shows her his hands and his collar bones, and his arms, they’re nice arms. “But what if I got bitten earlier?” 

“Did you?” Taako asks quickly.

“No. But I could have been and you wouldn’t know. Someone should check.” Kravitz glances at Taako.

“Cha’boy will do it. You know, to save you having to, Lu.”

“Uh huh, sure, yeah, a brave sacrifice. Now move it, both of you, I want to get the drawbridge up and the portcullis down.” Lup finally lowers the spear gun.

“Portcullis… So… uh… I did want to ask.” Kravitz begins gingerly as he walks across the bridge and into the castle.

“Uh huh.” Taako tries to look like he couldn’t possibly imagine what Kravitz is about to ask.

“I couldn’t help but notice…” Kravitz says gently, carefully.

“You noticed something?” Lup asks sweetly, as she begins to turn the crank.

“That you’re in a castle.” Kravitz finishes as the portcullis falls into place and the drawbridge is lifted.

“It’s not a castle!” Lup and Taako say as one.

“It’s not a castle?” Kravitz asks, warily eyeing the fish themed portcullis.

“It’s so much more, Kraveroo. Welcome to SeaBlaster, we’ve got fish, and the things you use to squish… them.” Taako does his best business smile, the one that they paid him slightly above minimum wage for, and does an adequate job of jazz hands (those didn’t come cheap.)

“It’s not really squishing though, is it?” Kravitz asks, like that’s the only problem with anything that’s happening right now.

“Hey, hey Kravitz, just to check, the only problem you have with the aquari-museum we now live in is the tagline not quite making sense because most of this stuff is used to stab and not squish?” 

“No!” Kravitz says indignantly. “Whales also aren’t fish. There’s no way the harpoon you were at was used on anything that wasn’t a marine mammal!” 

Lup snorts.

Taako groans. “You’ll get on well with Angles.”

“Who’s Angles?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But I…”

“Ssssh.” Taako pats Kravitz’s shoulder reassuringly. Plenty of time for that.

There’s a long beat of silence as Lup begins to stride back to the staff room. Or, well, the common room as they call it these days, it’s homier, apparently.

Taako inclines his head and Kravitz follows obediently. Good to know.

“So how long have you been here?” Kravitz asks, falling into step beside him.

“This doesn’t seem fair. You’ve already had a load of questions.” Taako looks at Kravitz and smiles, just to be sure he knows it’s a joke.

“You can ask some things.” Kravitz looks positively overjoyed at the prospect.

“How’d you kill it?” Taako asks. He didn’t hear a gun or anything.

“Er…” There’s a long pause.

Taako stops dead. “Kravitz?”

“No wait, it’s not weird.”

“If you have to say it’s not weird, Taako’s inclined to think it’s gonna be weird.”

“But I said it wasn’t!” Kravitz protests, as if that has ever worked.

“People are asking a lot of questions that my “the way I killed the zombie wasn’t weird” tshirt already answered… C’mon, just tell Taako.”

“Staked it.” Kravitz mutters.

“You fucking what now?” 

“I staked it.” Kravitz over-ennunciates, spitefully, Taako loves it. Can they keep him forever?

“My question stands.”

“I used a stake. I staked it.” Kravitz shrugs nonchalantly like that’s not completely ridiculous. “You use what very much looks like a historical whaling harpoon!” He adds, as if that’s relevant right now. He’s right though.

“You just…” Taako mimes stabbing Kravitz through the heart. It’s slightly more dramatic than it needs to be, sure, but how often does a guy get to go full Dracula-murder?

“Obviously not, that doesn’t work. I…” Kravitz steps towards him and mimes stabbing Taako through the eye. It brings them close, nearly touching close.

“Show cha’boy again? I missed it.” Taako leans forward.

Kravitz looks confused for a second, there’s a beat where Taako thinks he’s pushed his luck too far. Before he can apologise though, Kravitz is cradling the back of Taako’s head with one hand.

“Like this.” He says softly, barely a whisper, as he fuels whatever is crackling between them and brings his fake-stake wielding hand towards Taako’s eye.

“Urgh, quit it!” Lup yells back at them and flings the door to the common room open. “Taako’s got a…” the door swings blessedly shut before she can finish her sentence, but Taako can hear the chorus of questions immediately rumble up in response.

“Er…  you wanna shower? Before you, you know, meet the gang?” Taako gestures expansively at the door which is currently rattling. He can just about hear Magnus’ protests and mentally thanks Lup (or whoever it is) preventing him from barrelling into the hallway, hugging Kravitz to death and asking him a bajillion questions before without giving him a chance to answer. It’d still be better than Merle appearing though.

“You have one?” Kravitz sounds suspicious.

“Are you trying to say Taako smells?” Taako tries not to be offended, but it should be obvious to anyone he has a shower. The apocalypse has never looked so good!

“No!” Kravitz’s indignation is reassuring at least. “I just… It’s…” He peters out.

“Been a while?” Taako asks, giving Kravitz a deeply un-subtle once over.

“Not for lack of wanting.” Kravitz replies, and the want is palpable.

“Taako can definitely help you out there, handsome. Don’t you worry. If Kravitz wants, Kravitz can get.” Taako hopes he’s inflected exactly enough emphasis to be sure Kravitz knows which page they’re on. The sex page of the sex book. “It’s this way.” Taako leads Kravitz down the hallway and towards the stone staircase to the aquarium. They figured the geothermal heat would be good for bedroom temperature as well as the tropical fish. It was a solid bet. “So, how’d you end up with stakes?”

“Is that a fish tank?” Kravitz’s attention is immediately gone. He’s pressed to the tank and marvelling at the clownfish darting around and Taako hates each and every one of them because Kravitz should be looking at him instead.

“Taako wasn’t kidding about the ‘aquari’ bit in the welcome spiel, my dude. We’ve got fish, we’ve got historical fishing weaponry, and all of that comes with a ridiculous part fibreglass, part stone, largely fish themed castle. Buy now for the low low price of spending the rest of forever here, or at least until the bugs eat all the zombies to death or whatever.”

“I’m sold!” Kravitz says, worryingly enthusiastically, as he presses himself to the fish tank viewing window. It’s disgustingly adorable and Taako hates himself for the way his stomach clenches in the ‘going over a bumpy bit of road and loving it’ way.

“So… how’d you get the stake?” Taako refuses to be deterred from finding out.

“Whittled it.” Kravitz says too quickly. 

“Why?” Taako asks. There’s something here, there’s a string to pull at and he’s gonna.

“You know, end of the world.” Kravitz flaps his hand dismissively.

“C’mon. You can tell me, the shower’s just over here.” Taako opens the door to his quarters. Well. His ‘office’. They all just picked their favourite and took over. Taako’s is set a bit further away from the others and had a bathroom next door which is now an ensuite, because there’s not a chance in hell anyone’s coming back for this place after, and if they do they’re gonna be owed so much back pay that it wouldn’t be worth the counter-suit for the wages to try and make him repair the wall.

“Here’s the bathroom.” Taako nudges open the door and wishes that he’d spent literally any time cleaning his room in the last mmm… day…s…week… It’s fine. It’s the end of the world, you don’t have to be neat and tidy when humanity’s clinging on by a thread. Not that he was before, but Kravitz doesn’t need to know that. “And here’s a fresh towel.” He shoves one at Kravitz. 

“This smells like mint?” Kravitz says like Taako’s magic. Taako could get used to this level of adoration.

“It’s antimicrobial.” Taako says, because apparently apocalypse flirting is letting the guy you like know your towels don’t have diseases.

“But how did you get it?”

“Hydroponics.” 

“How did you…” Kravitz starts to ask. 

“Not questions for Taako. I deal in fish and harpoons, you’ll need Merle for garden questions and I can guarantee that he’ll answer with more detail than you want and you’ll regret it as much as everyone else does when they ask.

“I don’t mind getting to learn new thing.” Kravitz sounds worryingly interested.

“It’s not about the plants, well it is… but not, you know… in the way you want… it’s not about the things you want to…” Taako squinches his face up remembering The Onion Incident. He hasn’t cooked with them since.

“You’re making it sound like it’s a sex thing.” Kravitz laughs heartily, poor sweet fool. Taako’s silence clearly speaks volumes. “Wait… you mean…?”

“Anyway, here’s the shower.” Taako says quick, loud, and brokering no further vegetable sex questions. He refuses to let Merle ruin this for him. He points at it, just in case Kravitz somehow missed the cubicle, and starts to leave.

“Wait!” Kravitz says quickly. “You needed to check me out!” Kravitz grabs Taako’s arm as he turns away. “I mean… you know, for safety.”

“Well, if you insist.” Taako steps inside and closes the door behind him. “For safety, of course.” 

“Of course.” Kravitz says smooth as butter. Then immediately fumbles his zip in a rush to get his jacket off.

“You okay there, Kemosabe?” Taako tries not to laugh.

“I’m fine!” Kravitz’s voice has the slightest hint of desperation. “Absolutely fine. I’m trying to get naked in front of the most handsome man I think I’ve possibly ever laid eyes on, which is, may I say, an achievement at the end of the world as we know it, I knew guys who had access to, you know, stuff.”

“Ah, stuff.” Taako says wisely, trying very hard not to flick his hair dramatically and show Kravitz just how correct he is.

“Stuff.” Kravitz continues. Tugging at his zip again. “... and now I can’t get out of…” he gives a dramatic wiggle “...this stupid…”

“Let me.” Taako steps forward. “Taako can look after you.” He looks Kravitz dead in the eyes as he slides the zip down slowly, and thanks fate that it actually works. He probably could have dragged the jacket up over Kravitz’s head, but this way is so much better, this way means Kravitz is looking at him like he wants to eat him - in the good way. The good good way.

“Thank you.” Kravitz says, close, very close. Close enough for Taako to breathe him in and…

“Wait… shit. Hang on. Is that <i>garlic</i>???” Taako immediately abandons all thought of getting off, because if this is what he thinks…

“Er… I can expl…”

Taako pats at Kravitz’s chest. “There!” He thrusts his hand into the jacket’s inside pocket, hopes he’s right, he’s rewarded with a tight white bulb.

Garlic! It had been months, months, since Lucretia overwatered his stash and killed the last hope for flavour. He still hadn’t forgiven her. “I could kiss you.”

“You can if you want.” Kravitz looks so earnest, so hopeful, that Taako does, presses his lips firmly to Kravitz’s, brokering no room for confusion. He wants this, he means this. It’s intended as a quick thing, a temptation, but the way Kravitz melts into it though, the way he pushes himself forward into Taako, it’s delicious, it’s intoxicating, it’s… deeply uncomfortable.

Taako pulls back. “How much stuff have you got in here?” He flicks the jacket, then his hands are on the buttons of Kravitz’s shirt, working away, before Kravitz can reply. “Why is this cross so massive? It really digs in.” Taako lifts the ridiculously sized, heavy, solid silver cross that’s hanging round Kravitz’s neck and lets it drop again. Maybe he loves Jesus? Although he also seems pretty into boning before marriage… hmm.

“Er…”

Taako pulls Kravitz’s jacket open to reveal a series of inside pockets full of stakes. “How many of these did you make?”

“I… uh… Look, Taako.”

Taako reaches into the external chest pocket and pulls out a vial of clear liquid. “Small water bottle, my guy. Couldn’t find anything else to drink from? Glass doesn’t seem practical.” Taako narrows his eyes. 

“It’s…” Kravitz looks panicked. Taako should have known he was too good to be true. “It’s good for the environment…” 

Taako raises an eyebrow at him.

“...and also It’s a back up.” Kravitz smiles, winningly. It doesn’t work.

“Why do you have so many of them?” Taako pats at his pockets again. “Wait, is this more garlic?” It is… four more bulbs. Kravitz leans in as if he thinks Taako’s going to kiss him again. He does, obviously, because garlic at the end of the world is garlic at the end of the world, and it would be rude not to.

It’s distracting, the kissing, he definitely means to ask more questions, but also Kravitz is so handsome, and so… there. It’s been a long time. Taako pushes the jacket off Kravitz’s shoulders, it lands, loudly, but means it’s much more comfortable this time when Kravitz pushes his chest against Taako’s. It’s only natural that Taako slides his arm to Kravitz’s back, pulling him closer. The noise Kravitz makes when he does it tells Taako he’s just as desperate for this, for connection, for the press of bodies, for hot breath and moaning in a context unrelated to someone who’s recently dead and trying to bite your face off.

Taako drops his hand lower… “Kravitz, what the fuck?” Taako steps back, holding the stake tucked into his back pocket.

Kravitz sighs, heavily. “If I tell you, can we keep doing that?” He gestures between them in what Taako assumes is supposed to be an approximation of the heavy petting he’d very much like to get back to.

Taako raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not weird!” Kravitz protests too much.

“We’ve talked about this. Remember? You’re making it sound weird again.”

Kravitz squinches his face up, then shrugs. “I’m a vampire hunter.”

“What?” Taako doesn’t even know where to start with this one. Usually he’s got words, he’s full of them, they’re happening without checking in with him first, but he’s bereft, devoid, left wanting. In multiple ways. Is being unhinged a deal breaker for him? Taako’s unhinged. At least the guy’s prepared, dedicated to his imaginary craft.

“So…I told you…” Kravitz’s face is inches from his again.

Taako’s tempted. Sorely tempted. But he should probably definitely ask at least two more questions so Lup doesn’t shout at him later.

He places his hand firmly on Kravitz’s chest and definitely doesn’t cop a feel in the process. “You’re a vampire hunter?” That’s one. Nearly back to hot-boy-make-out-session followed by maybe-moving-things-to-the-shower-if-it-goes-well time.

“Yes.”

“And you think vampires are real?” Taako asks as gently as possible.

Kravitz steps back this time. “Hang on. Wait. We’re in a zombie apocalypse!”

“Vampires aren’t zombies.” Taako says with confidence, there’s not too much he knows about zombies short of the whole ‘they don’t get back up if you harpoon them in the head’ thing, but that’s one of the other facts he’s got.

“Obviously not.” Kravitz says, like Taako’s stating the obvious.

There’s a moment of intense eye contact. Kravitz nods as if what he’s just said was in some way conclusive, point proving, debate winning.

“Exactly.” Taako says. Because yeah, zombies aren’t vampires. “Wrong kind of apocalypse.”

“I didn’t think it was a vampire apocalypse.” Kravitz looks indignant as if Taako’s being ridiculous here. “I’m familiar enough with biting to know what’s gone wrong here.” He gestures expansively to the whole of everything.

“Sure…” Taako’s lost again.

“I was a vampire hunter before the zombies happened.” Kravitz says, as if that’s the same as Taako’s Underwater Fun-gineer role. Taako’s clearly still looking at him blankly because he adds. “You can’t believe in zombies and not vampires! I bet you thought biters weren’t real before this too.” Kravitz had a point, a good one. Fine, Taako can believe all kinds of things for him.

“Did that… pay well?” There. Okay, maybe now he believes in vampires because a handsome man said they were real, but he asked three questions, three! Lup definitely can’t shout at him.

Kravitz levels him with a confused look. “I had a day job, Taako. It’s just that I also do this… did this. They’ve fucked off since, well…”

There’s a long pause while Taako processes. “So, just to clarify, you’re… you’re a vampire hunter without any vampires in a zombie apocalypse?” Taako tries really hard to keep his voice straight, he does. He’s unsuccessful. Wildly unsuccessful judging by the look on Kravitz’s face. It’s positively stony.

Taako tries desperately to choke the laughter back. “Just… one more time.” His voice is thicker than normal, but he thinks he just about manages to play it off as regular. “One more.” He adds.

“No.” Kravitz’s bottom lip does something dangerously close to pouting. Taako wants to pull it between his teeth, but he should probably ease off anything biting related right now.

“Go on.” Taako bats his eyelashes, he may as well go for broke.

Kravitz’s nose twitches. “Fine, fine! I’m a vampire hunter in a zombie apocalypse and all the vampires fucked off.” He says huffily.

Taako’s mouth quivers as he presses his lips together, but he can’t stop the snort that escapes. That’s it, there’s no hope, he’s howling, tears streaming down his face, doubled over and wheezing. “S… Sorry.” He gasps out. “I… Fuck. No… no vampires… zombies… wrong… wrong thing.”

“I guess…” Kravitz says slowly. “I guess when you think about it that way…” He lets out a small chuckle. “... it’s… it’s pretty funny.” And then Kravitz is laughing too and they’re leaning against each other, propping each other up as the ridiculousness washes over them. It’s stupid. It’s perfect. Taako’s going to keep him, he can definitely stay.

The laughter subsides, eventually. One of them stops and then they set each other off laughing again over and over again. Taako wants to pin the memory of it to his wall so he can look at it whenever he wants.

“Were there many, you know, before?” Taako’s curious. Why can’t vampires exist?

“Yes. Yes there were.” Kravitz’s face is stony again.

“But less when you…” Taako mimes staking Kravitz through the heart dramatically.

“Yes… Yes. Less when I…” Kravitz grabs Taako by the thighs, pins him to the wall, and pretends to drive a stake into him. 

Taako’s not unwrapping his legs from Kravitz’s waist any time soon. “Do it this way often?” He looks down at Kravitz and smiles as coyly as he can manage, which he’s assuming isn’t very.

Kravitz noses Taako’s chin. “Not really.” He presses a line of kisses across his jaw. “I was just showing off.”

“Speaking of showing.” Taako says, drawing his hands over Kravitz’s biceps, strong, good, very good. “I believe I was supposed to be checking you out.”

Kravitz looks puzzled for a second before he catches on. “Of course. Yes. Very important health and safety process. I’ll have to put you down.”

“I’ll live. Probably.” Taako sighs. Then decides he’s at least entitled to some aerial kisses while he’s up here. “Actually, wait no, hang on.” 

It’s good, it’s very good. It takes a while before Kravitz starts getting wobbly and Taako starts worrying about them collapsing into a pile of horny limbs because there’s no easy way to explain those injuries. He taps Kravitz’s back. “Okay. C’mon. Inspection time. I’ll warn you, I’m very thorough.”

Kravitz groans, and lets him down. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Taako helps him out of the rest of his shirt, stops to give him some more kisses when another bulb of garlic rolls out. He helps to shuffle all the stakes onto the jacket so they stop rolling around the floor. He helps kiss Kravitz’s collar bones when they look lonely.

“Taako.” Kravitz hesitates, hands on the button of his fly.

“Uh huh?” Taako doesn’t even pretend to look him in the eye, surely they’re past that point now.

“I was thinking…” 

“Dangerous thing to do.” Taako lifts his eyes from Kravitz’s stomach and tries to focus on something that isn’t thinking about running his hands over it, grazing his nails through the hair there, kissing his way downwards.

“I have another safety concern.” He says, so earnestly.

“Uh huh?”

“How do I know you haven’t been bitten?” The corner of Kravitz’s mouth lifts as his eyebrows raise in challenge.

“You make a compelling point, handsome, I guess you’d better inspect me too.” Taako’s top is off before he’s finished talking.

#Happy birthday Larissa!!!! #Everyone go say happy birthday to them #Also - I cannot tell you how much fun I had thinking of this stupid world #But tell me I'm wrong - would Taako not use a historical whaling harpoon in the zombie apocalpyse? #Would Merle not be desperately figuring out how to grow onions to fuck? #Did you see that Kravitz has a lead on some vampires - he just doesn't know it yet! #TAZ Fic #Taz #TAZ Balance #Taakitz #Taako #Kravitz #Lup #Noodyl Writes #Zombie apocalypse AU #Why wouldn't there be an aquari-museum in a half resin half brick castle?

[busket]

Something Greater 2 chapter 3: Crenel Hills

"Aita heads to Zora's Domain, but meets some old friends along the way."

OK I KNOW I SAID UPDATES WOULDN'T BE AS FREQUENT i was just feeling a little insane. this is a 100% oc only chapter btw :)))

#something greater 2 #something greater #i gotta start drawing sketches of these chapters theyre swimming in my mind

[fatehbaz]

In 1678, a Chaldean priest from Baghdad reached the Imperial Villa of Potosí, the world’s richest silver-mining camp and at the time the world’s highest city at more than 4,000 metres (13,100 feet) above sea level. A regional capital in the heart of the Bolivian Andes, Potosí remains – more than three and a half centuries later – a mining city today. [...] The great red Cerro Rico or ‘Rich Hill’ towered over the city of Potosí. It had been mined since 1545 [...]. When Don Elias arrived [...], the great boom of 1575-1635 – when Potosí alone produced nearly half the world’s silver – was over, but the mines were still yielding the precious metal. [...]

On Potosí’s main market plaza, indigenous and African women served up maize beer, hot soup and yerba mate. Shops displayed the world’s finest silk and linen fabrics, Chinese porcelain, Venetian glassware, Russian leather goods, Japanese lacquerware, Flemish paintings and bestselling books in a dozen languages. [...]

Pious or otherwise, wealthy women clicked Potosí’s cobbled streets in silver-heeled platform shoes, their gold earrings, chokers and bracelets studded with Indian diamonds and Burmese rubies. Colombian emeralds and Caribbean pearls were almost too common. Peninsular Spanish ‘foodies’ could savour imported almonds, capers, olives, arborio rice, saffron, and sweet and dry Castilian wines. Black pepper arrived from Sumatra and southwest India, cinnamon from Sri Lanka, cloves from Maluku and nutmeg from the Banda Islands. Jamaica provided allspice. Overloaded galleons spent months transporting these luxuries across the Pacific, Indian and Atlantic oceans. Plodding mule and llama trains carried them up to the lofty Imperial Villa.

---

Potosi supplied the world with silver, the lifeblood of trade and sinews of war [...]. In turn, the city consumed the world’s top commodities and manufactures. [...] The city’s dozen-plus notaries worked non-stop inventorying silver bars and sacks of pesos [...]. Mule trains returning from the Pacific brought merchandise and mercury, the essential ingredient for silver refining. [...] From Buenos Aires came slavers with captive Africans from Congo and Angola, transshipped via Rio de Janeiro. Many of the enslaved were children branded with marks mirroring those, including the royal crown, inscribed on silver bars.

Soon after its 1545 discovery, Potosí gained world renown [...]. Mexico’s many mining camps [...] peaked only after 1690. [...] Even in the Andes of South America there were other silver cities [...]. But no silver deposit in the world matched the Cerro Rico, and no other mining-refining conglomeration grew so large. Potosí was unique: a mining metropolis.

Thus Don Elias, like others, made the pilgrimage to the silver mountain. It was a divine prodigy, a hierophany. In 1580, Ottoman artists depicted Potosí as a slice of earthly paradise, the Cerro Rico lush and green, the city surrounded by crenellated walls. Potosí, as Don Quixote proclaimed, was the stuff of dreams. Another alms seeker, in 1600, declared the Cerro Rico the Eighth Wonder of the World. A [...] visitor in 1615 gushed: ‘Thanks to its mines, Castile is Castile, Rome is Rome, the pope is the pope, and the king is monarch of the world.’ [...]

---

For all its glory, Potosí was also the stuff of nightmares [...].

Almost a century before Don Elias visited Potosí, Viceroy Francisco de Toledo revolutionised world silver production. Toledo was a hard-driving bureaucrat of the Spanish empire [...]. Toledo reached Potosí in 1572, anxious to flip it into the empire’s motor of commerce and war. By 1575, the viceroy had organised a sweeping labour draft, launched a ‘high-tech’ mill-building campaign, and overseen construction of a web of dams and canals to supply the Imperial Villa with year-round hydraulic power, all in the high Andes at the nadir of the Little Ice Age. Toledo also oversaw construction of the Potosí mint, staffed full-time with enslaved Africans. [...] Toledo’s successes came with a steep price. Thanks to the viceroy’s ‘reforms’, hundreds of thousands of Andeans became virtual refugees (those who survived) and, in the search for timber and fuel, colonists denuded hundreds of miles of fragile, high-altitude land. [...] The city’s smelteries belched lead and zinc-rich smoke [...].

The Habsburg kings of Spain cared little about Potosí’s social and environmental horrors. [...] For more than a century, the Cerro Rico fuelled the world’s first global military-industrial complex, granting Spain the means to prosecute decades-long wars on a dozen fronts – on land and at sea. No one else could do all this and still afford to lose. [...]

By [...] 1909 [...], mineral rushes had helped to produce cities such as San Francisco and Johannesburg, but nothing quite compared for sheer audacity with the Imperial Villa of Potosí, a neo-medieval mining metropolis perched in the Andes of South America.

---

Text by: Kris Lane. “Potosi: the mountain of silver that was the first global city.” Aeon. 30 July 2019. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

#ecology #abolition #colonial #imperial #landscape #mining

[totkdaily]

Day 23: Satori, and Misko

It's pouring down when I wake in the bunker at Lookout Landing.

I collect Pumpkin from Lester and follow his instructions to head out of the east gate to find Woodland Stable. 

I almost ride past Addison in the rain. Almost. 

I'm looking for shrines through the scope when I see strange movement. Someone's under attack! I ride Pumpkin over the bokoblin and speak to the Gerudo who was under attack - Calisa. She's a treasure hunter. She's been dreaming about riding falling rocks back up into the sky.  I wish her well. But it's a neat idea.

Yamiyo Shrine is on the way - I might as well. 

Just down the hill is a cherry blossom tree surrounded by fruit. There's a Gerudo sitting under it - Konora - who's waiting for her one true love.

Konora says Satori are sometimes seen near trees like this. I remember the blossom tree on Satori Mountain, years ago. She might be right.

I offer a wildberry, and a glowing blue Satori creature appears. Glowing banners unfurl across the landscape in response.

I use the scope to see that a couple of the closer ones look like cave entrances? I wonder… I race to the crumbling Castle Town wall for a vantage point, and mark as many of the banners as I can on my map. I don't know how long they will last.

A thought strikes me - the Satori creature looked not dissimilar to the bubbulfrogs. Is it possible that the banners denote not the caves, but the frogs? I'm not sure it makes much difference at this point - I've only found a few. But it might be something to keep an eye on. 

I cross back to my horse to check out a couple of the nearest spots before I move on, when I bump into Meeshy on the road. She's wearing a very mushroom-heavy outfit, and is seeking Misko's treasure - it's a day for treasure, it seems.

Misko the bandit is known to hide treasure - I've found some of theirs before. It sounds like these caves opening up has revealed some old caches. She marks two places on my map where one is known to be. The first will give me power, the second protection from lightning… She reminds me also that the Great Fairies can imbue clothing with power. 

Interesting. The piece of clothing nearest me of the two is right on one of those Satori marks. I've found clothing in a cave before - perhaps that was Misko's too. Let's check. 

I use Tulin's power to cross the river and find Crenel Hill Cave. Keese fly out, and I head in. Looks like an old luminous stone mine. And there's more of those flags - I wonder if they only appear in caves that hide Misko's treasure? 

I spot the frog first. And the gem lands right on a rock that turns out to be a Talus. I look around desperately for Misko's flags - and spot a large luminous stone deposit on the wall. A bomb flower clears it, and I scramble up the wall to escape into the tunnel. Beyond, a piece of barbarian armor. Might be just the thing to kill a Talus. 

It's not. I flee.

At midnight, I fail to ambush some bokoblins, and Tulin saves my life from the moblin with them. It would be ridiculous, when the Princess is relying on me against the Demon King himself, to fall to some bokoblins - or even a Talus. I have to keep moving.

#totkdaily #day 23 #totk #zelda #loz #legend of zelda #bit of a travel day today #but the satori are so cool #perfect aesthetic perfect vibes 10/10 no notes

[murmel-malt]

Reach Appreciation Week - Day 5: Castles & Locations

Highgarden is located on a broad verdant hill overlooking the Mander. The castle is surrounded by three rings of white stone whose crenellated curtain walls increase in height. Between the outer and middle walls is a famous briar labyrinth which serves to entertain as well as slow invaders. The oldest towers, squat and square, date from the Age of Heroes. Newer towers are tall and slender, round fortifications dating from after the coming of the Andals.

#thereachweek2022 #a song of ice and fire #a song of ice and fire edit #asoiaf #asoiaf edit #the reach #garth greenhand #house gardener #house tyrell #highgarden #valyriansource #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf lore #asoiaf history #my art #my edit

[aufi-creative-mind]

Getting to Know You: A Family Introduction CHAPTER 1

An Introductionary Story to the BotW: Family and Legacy. SYNOPSIS: Most people only know Link by his role as the Wielder of the Sacred Sword that Seals the Darkness for the prophesied Return of Calamity Ganon. But beyond this role, none paid much attention to his origins. Zelda was one such person and only saw him as her personal knight-bodyguard. Until one stormy day when she gets a glimpse of what kind of person Link really is and the family he was part of.

CHAPTER 1: Seeking Shelter from Storm

"Ouch."

"Are you okay, Your Highness?"

"I-I'm fine. It was only a stumble."

"..."

Link kept a silent lip as he slowly helped Princess Zelda up onto her feet after she stumbled down a rocky embankment. They had stopped along the Hylia River to give their horses a rest after spending the morning riding from the Zora's Domain for their return journey back to Hyrule Castle. 

While resting, Zelda had brought out the Sheikah Slate from her saddle bag. It was a gift from one of the Sheikah engineers and her tutor's sister, Purah after she successfully reverse-engineered the ancient artefact into a functioning device. The Princess was so fascinated by it and the many possibilities that were still unknown to her. While experimenting with the strange device's functions, a signal tracker of sorts was activated and was making some sort of beeping noises. With her curiosity, she had wandered off towards Crenel Hills, following the noise as it grew louder and beeped more frequently. Her eyes fixated on the Slate, so much that she did not realise that there was a steep embankment until it was too late.

"I am quite fine. I can support myself," Zelda insisted with a huff as she supported herself with a nearby tree stump. 

Link remained silent as he observed the Princess slowly walking away with a limp on her left foot. She tried to climb the rocky slope back up. Only to stumble back down a bit with her face cringing.

"I-I think I sprained my ankle..." She finally admitted with an embarrassed whisper. 

If she was expecting for her appointed bodyguard to react - a laugh or a snicker at her predicament, there was none. Only a stoic look and a stiff nod. Link quickly looked around at their surroundings to make sure that there was no immediate danger. He then approached the Princess and knelt next to her before offering a hand to her. 

"Please. Let me help you, Princess.”

Zelda looked up to him. His face remained unchanged but his bright blue eyes seemed to have softened a little. Though it could just be from a dimming light of the sun as grey clouds rolled above them. 

With a reluctant sigh, she accepted his hand. Then to her startling surprise, Link suddenly lifted her up into his arms, bridal style. All, without needing too much effort to carry her weight. 

"H-Hey!"

"I'll aid your ankle when we return to camp, Princess!" Link simply told her as he carefully walked up the rocky slope of the Hill. Making sure that he had secured the Princess in his strong arms. 

Zelda opened her mouth, wanting to protest but no words came out. She quietly sighed and let her appointed knight carry her off. Even as her cheeks glowed a little pink with embarrassment.

.

While their horses grazed on grass nearby, Zelda sat on top of a large rock while Link checked on her sprained ankle. Once he identified where she was injured, she watched her appointed knight gently apply a healing ointment before carefully wrapping a bandage around it. 

"How do you feel?" He asked rather softly, as he looked up to the Princess.

"It still hurts. But I'll be fine, thank you." Zelda smiled with appreciation. 

Though to her disappointment, Link did not return the gesture. He simply nodded as he slowly stood up. 

"I will escort you back to the Castle quickly so the healers can-"

"No, no!"

Link paused abruptly. He looked back to the Princess with a slightly confused look. 

Zelda glanced up to him, a little startled by her own outburst before shaking her head. 

"Let's...not go back to the Castle just yet...please?" She asked.

Link tilted his head a little, puzzled by the Princess' request. He could see that she had no desire to hurry back to her home in the safety of the palace, despite her injuries. In the short time he had been her appointed knight and bodyguard - by the King's order - he recognised that the Princess had preferred to be elsewhere, away from the Castle and often jump for any chance to travel. He knew that the Princess loved travelling, though he wondered if there was something else that she was trying to avoid. 

His thoughts and the Princess' woeful mood were interrupted when they heard a loud thunder clash in the distance. They both turned their eyes upwards and saw a large storm was rolling in from the east. The sudden cold and strong winds signalling its arrival. 

"The storm is moving rather quickly," Zelda commented with a worried frown. "We're too far from the Stables to seek shelter in time."

Link stood still as his eyes continued to observe the oncoming storm. Thinking. Then his eyes lit up. 

"I know of another place," He told her in a firm yet quiet tone. 

The rain arrived much faster than they had anticipated. By the time they had crossed the wooden bridge over Hylia River, the storm rained down so heavily that it shrouded the distant view of Hyrule Castle and Castletown from sight with thunder bellowing above.

Link had handed over his hooded cloak to the Princess to provide additional protection from the torrential downpour around them. 

He quickly became soaked from head to toes as he guided their horses through the muddy forest grounds. Just as the Princess, riding on top of her white horse’s saddle, became more and more concerned for her silent knight.

She then noticed wooden fences in between the trees and shrubs. Then, a large stone house emerges through the greenery. The Hero quickly checked their surroundings before opening the back gates to let their horses through. There was a small flock of Cuccos that were roosting in their wooden coops nearby as they passed by. Zelda figured that they must be in one of the villages outside of Castletown’s walls, if they were such in abundance. Her thoughts then wondered on whose property were they trespassing through.

They soon stopped by under the shelter of the horses’ stall in the small courtyard. Link then offered his hand out to Zelda to help her come down from her white horse. Slowly, Link then guided her through the rain and muddy grounds towards the entrance. It was an old country house of modest-sized, fit for a small family. Complete with rustic stone walls, wooden features and a dark green rooftop to blend with the woodlands that surrounded it. Vines were creeping up along one corner of the house.

As they approached the front door, it finally occurred to Zelda.

“Wait… Is this…your home?” 

There was a short pause before Link nodded. 

“Yes.”

.

Upon entering through the front door, Zelda noted how dark inside as Link guided herself in. Her nose wrinkled a bit when she caught the lingering scent of herbs and baked goods. Link quickly removed the now wet black Hylian cape from Zelda's shoulders and set up a comfy chair for her to sit down in front of the fireplace. He then fetched a warm blanket to wrap around her shoulders and took away her soaked jacket and boots to dry.

"I'll set up the fire so you can keep warm, Princess." 

"What about you? You're absolutely soaked from head to toe."

Zelda pointed out to him. His hair, clothes and tunic were dripping wet. She also noticed that his skin had turned a little paler than usual.

"I'll...I'll be fine, Your Highness." Link tried to reassure her before excusing himself. 

Zelda frowned a little and eyed on her appointed knight as he quickly left the room to retrieve firewood. She let out a sigh and wrapped the blanket over herself a bit more tightly. Her ankle numbed with lingering soreness. She then looked around at her surroundings. In the dim-lit space, she noticed how well-decorated the living space appeared to be, with framed pictures and hanging ornaments on the wall. There was a shelf against the wall filled with trinkets. And on the opposite side, appeared to be a decorated table with a framed painting of a woman and a small vase of flowers next to it. The windows were covered with curtains as the rain continued to pour outside with a clash of thunder rumbling through the air. 

Link soon returned, carrying a bundle of dry firewood to light up the fireplace. He had changed out from his wet Champion’s uniform for simple country attire - a tunic shirt, new trousers and socks. 

The lingering chill in the room slowly gave way to a comforting warmth of the fireplace as Link continued to feed the burning embers into gentle flames. He had also brought a few candles to add more ambient light to the room. As well as more blankets and pillows for Zelda to help her relax more while under his roof.  

"I’ll get you something warm to drink, Princess."

"Oh, you don't have to-" 

Link had already gone to the kitchen before Zelda could finish her sentence. She let out a quiet sigh. She sometimes wished that her appointed knight could just slow himself down.

While waiting for her appointed knight’s return, Zelda took the chance for a second look at the living space around her. It had a very rustic look that seemed fitting for a typical country home with wooden flooring, with tall stone walls and a high ceiling with large wooden support beams. Yet it was decorated with things that suggested the family's more privileged status.

Gerudo-style tapestry and weapons were mounted on the wall. 

The bookshelf displayed a few odd ornaments including an ocarina and a set of wooden carvings of a fox, a wolf and a long-necked bird.

Paintings with golden accents on the frame glowed slightly by the fireplace's light. 

Zelda also noticed interior elements that were associated with Sheikah culture. Especially a small frog statue that sat on the fireplace mantle alongside a framed scroll written in the Sheikah language. 

 "Satoru... 'to understand' ..." Zelda deciphered the calligraphy. 

She then spotted what looked like a painted portrait of Link’s family. Curious, Zelda carefully pulled herself up from her seat. She made sure not to put too much weight over her sprained ankle and slowly approached the framed portrait. 

The image presented three family members with the name ‘Satoru’ written in ancient Sheikah writing. Standing on the right was her appointed knight when he was younger and was dressed in formal Sheikah clothing. Next to him was a young girl who had similar features to Link with braided pigtails and was dressed in similar attire. 

It surprised her. She did not know that Link had a sister. 

And standing between the two children was most likely their father who donned similar Sheikah-style clothes like Link but with a slightly more elaborate and dignified design. Zelda recognised this man as one of her father's close associates and the current Head of the Royal Guard knights, Commander Satoru. 

Zelda stepped back a bit with a quiet smile. When she first met Link, she had assumed that he was from another aristocratic family like the many other nobles in Court that served her Family. She did not expect that the Satoru family were of more humbler origins. Though by just their surname, she did not find it surprising that they would be of Sheikah origins.

She felt a little guilty that she had judged Link a little too harsher. Expecting him to be like everyone else in the Court who only humour her and her father as a means to advance up the social ladder. Especially after her mother's passing. 

.

Just as Zelda settled back on her nest of pillows and blankets, she heard the faint sounds of a horse galloping through the rain outside the house. It was then followed by heavy footsteps through the mud when the front door suddenly burst open. Entering inside was a young girl who looked no older than thirteen years of age. When she pulled down her soaked hood, Zelda could not help but remark about how this young girl looked almost identical to Link in appearance. The difference was her long braided ponytail that sat on her shoulder and slightly soaked from the rain. She had a wide grin that was accompanied with a spark in her sky blue eyes. 

"Hey Link! Are you home? Since when did you get a white horse-" 

The young girl paused when she noticed Zelda and immediately went pale with widened eyes of shock. 

The Princess looked back to her with an awkward smile and gave a small greeting wave.

"Oh, hello~"

Link emerged from the kitchen area and his eyes immediately widened. 

"ARIA!” 

Link's sudden outburst startled Zelda. She had never heard her appointed knight speak so loudly, beyond his default stoic tone. 

Aria, Link's younger sister, was just as startled. Her older brother hurried towards her with a very surprised if alarmed look.  

"What are you doing here? I thought you were back in Castletown!"

Aria crossed her arm with a huff, "I was, but the Academy then got boring and the girls there are also kind of mean."

Link sighed as he rubbed his hands down across his face. "Oh, Aria! You know that dad is not going to be happy when he finds out that you skipped school again!"

"So what? The girls there are dumber and meaner than a Bokoblin on a bad day! And besides, someone needs to check to make sure that the Cuccos here are fine with this storm we’re having outside!" 

Link frowned with a disappointed glare at his sister. His face then cracked when he and Aria’s eyes then glanced over to Zelda. 

"Oh, don't mind me!" Zelda smiled at the two siblings. 

As an only child, she never experienced this kind of interaction with another family member of her own age or younger. But what was more intriguing for her was that Link had let his guard down. She did not see the stiffness or the stoic composure that he often puts up for himself when performing his duties as her appointed Knight. This was a side of him that Zelda had never seen from him before. 

Link's face became flustered with pink embarrassment on his cheeks. To let himself act so improper in front of the Princess. 

"P-Please excuse us for a moment, Princess!"

He then grabbed his sister's hand and quickly pulled her away into the kitchen area where they could talk more freely without the Princess' direct gaze. 

"Is that really....Princess Zelda?" Aria whispered to him.

Link bit on his lip before nodding, “Yes.” 

"Are you serious?!" Aria gasped sharply, covering her mouth with her hands. 

Link nodded again as he rubbed on his neck. 

"You brought the Princess of Hyrule to OUR house!? Is that even allowed?"

"We...we..." Link let out a reluctant sigh as he tried to find his voice again. "We were caught by the storm. And the Princess had sprained her ankle earlier." 

"Ow... that's bad." Aria frowned. 

Both siblings then quickly checked over their shoulders and caught Zelda trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. The Princess quickly turned her attention away and pretended to not have heard their exchange as she let herself relax on her seat in front of the fireplace.

Aria then looked back to her brother and leaned closer to him to whisper more quietly, “...Does dad know?" 

Link made a tight frown as he looked down at the floor of the kitchen. “It...it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. My decision."

Aria nodded. She then glanced up to her older brother. "How are you feeling then, Link?"

"I-I'm...fine."

"Link... You look as pale as the white horse outside..."

"S-Someone...someone needs to look after the Princess."

Zelda glanced up over her shoulders. She could see that Aria was looking up to her older brother with her hands on her hips and a firm huff. "Link, you may be in charge of looking out for the Princess but someone needs to look out for you too, okay?"

The older sibling paused as he looked down at his determined sister, "Alright, Aria... Have it your way." Link finally admitted defeat with a soft laugh. 

It was the first time Zelda had ever seen Link smile.

#legend of zelda #botw family and legacy #breath of the wild #botw #getting to know you: a family introduction #fanfiction

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

Good Morning from Sept Tours (aka Chateau Dauphin, near Pontgibaud in the Auvergne) :)

allsoulsdg

1 Wo.

A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES REAL TIME READ, ch 17 & 18 “In the centre of rolling hills was a flattened peak dominated by a crenellated hulk of buff and rose stone. Seven smaller towers surrounded it, and a turreted gatehouse stood guard in front. This was not a pretty, fairy-tale castle made for moonlit balls. Sept-Tours was a fortress.” ********** “The forbidding lines of the castle were nothing compared to what awaited me inside. The door swung open. “Courage,” Matthew said, kissing me gently on the cheek.” -A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES 👉Did you know? Chateau Dauphin, near Pontgibaud in the Auvergne, served as the model for Sept-Tours. You can also have a "vampire view" (or make that witches view, as @Nicole Boston-Marsh pointed out) of the Chateau and its surrounding area courtesy of this video of a drone fly by: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NnCuMZO0d4s

#Instagram

[fierypen37]

The Flames Just Get Higher: Chapter 2

moodboard by @libradoodle1​

Chapter 2

 Dany closed her eyes, pulses of satisfaction ebbing through her as the glow of her release mellowed. The fantasy had dissipated as soon as she came, and here she was, back to cold reality. Between heartbeats, the sting of guilt stabbed her like a snake’s fangs. Gods, she was faithless, heartless. Why could she not love her husband as he deserved? Robb was a good man. Kind, gentle, handsome, strong. All the superlatives girls would sigh over when they dreamed of a husband.

The simple truth was: Robb was not Jon, and thus, she could not love him. Winterfell seemed as far away as Assaha’i to her as they journeyed north. All those leagues, Dany fretted about the northern family with a lineage as old as the continent which she would soon join. Eddard Stark was dead; his heir Robb was Lord of Winterfell in his stead. Robb—named for Robert Baratheon, who given his way, would have seen Daenerys’ entire family slain. Surely the Starks didn’t share this belief—the Starks had not risen in rebellion against her brother.

The Baratheons called their banners and rode north. He persuaded his foster father Jon Arryn to join them, secure in the knowledge that Ned Stark, his oldest friend, would ride to his side. On the banks of the Trident, Rhaegar’s black lance pierced Robert’s breastplate. The rebellion melted away like mist after that. This story her brother the king had told her himself. Never fear, sweet sister. The Starks are renowned for their honor, and by all accounts, Robb Stark is a kind man. I would not send you north if I thought him a villain.

So Daenerys rode with a small entourage of maids and guards. Ser Barristan of the Kingsguard escorted her north in her honor guard. The breadth of her brother’s realm dazzled her eyes. The rolling green hills of the Crownlands, the might of the Trident and the Tumblestone, the marshy stink of the Neck giving way to the clean coniferous scent of the North. Then after a month-long slog through mud and sleet, the crenelated towers of Winterfell gleamed in the mist. Sick to death of the carriage, Daenerys rode ahead on her silver with Ser Barristan at her stirrup. The castle gates were thrown open in welcome, twin banners framing the portcullis. A grey wolf on a field of white. As they arrived, a soft summer snow began to fall. Enchanted, Daenerys dismounted in the bailey, catching the cold, feathery flakes in her hands and watching them melt.

“Welcome to Winterfell, Princess,” a deep voice said. Daenerys turned and her breath caught. He was the picture of masculine beauty. Eyes a dark, smoky grey, watching her with amusement. Wild black curls framed a long face with a square jaw. So this was a Stark face. Rumor said Robb favored his Tully mother but perhaps the word was false. The breadth of his shoulders, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the unexpected softness of his mouth beneath his dark beard. Would it rasp against her skin, or tickle? Oh yes. Yes this will do, whispered some deep inward voice.

“Thank you, my lord. Snow is a wonder. I’ve never seen it before down south,” she said with a shy smile, curtseying deeply. The air between them chilled. Horror filled those grey eyes and he dropped to one knee in the mud.

“Forgive me, my lady. You misunderstand. I am Jon Snow, Robb’s Stark’s bastard brother,” he said. Daenerys swallowed hard, her heart falling to the pit of her stomach.

Robb Stark had appeared then, resplendent in grey samite and white wolf fur. At his heels tumbled a small avalanche of her soon-to-be-family and chattering servants and guards. Threading through it all were the famed tamed direwolves of the Stark children. Huge sleek shapes of grey and black, yipping excitedly along with the children. Ser Barristan and her maids clustered around her, a buttress against the tide. Daenerys beamed, delighted. One of her deepest sorrows was leaving behind Rhaenys and Aegon and the other highborn children that played in King’s Landing’s gardens. The bright noise of chatter and laughter were familiar to her.

A sharp word from the older woman with flowing auburn hair—Lady Stark—quelled most of it. With a charming grin, Robb Stark detached himself from the horde.

“Princess, it is an honor to meet you at last. I see you’ve met my natural brother,” he said, clapping a hand on Jon Snow’s shoulder as he rose to stand beside him. The white direwolf loped to stand beside Jon.

“Jon is a fine fighter and there are no other I trust better. if it pleases you, Jon shall be your bodyguard,” Robb said. A muscle flashed in Jon’s jaw and Daenerys felt her heart sink a little lower.

Attraction to Jon Snow had been a problem from the beginning. Even in their marriage bed, she felt . . . distance between her and Robb. There were ghosts between them. Because Dany wanted Jon. Coveting her husband’s brother. Guiltily fantasizing about Jon as Robb moved inside her. It only got worse in the following months. Much like with his direwolf Ghost, the aloofness and reserve hid a deep well of feeling. Little gestures spoke volumes. Once, she confided her favorite flower that reminded her of home. Moonbloom, with soft purple blossoms and a delicate perfume. Next she knew, there was a sachet of moonbloom seeds beside her place at breakfast. Sansa had helped her plant them in the glass garden. Her good-sister had a real talent for making plants grow and privately confided it was the one place a lady could get her hands dirty. Another time, she had mentioned an obscure book on dragons and found that same book beside her place at the High Table from the maester’s library.

Jon had a knack for listening and a surprising dry sense of humor. There were no awkward lapses in conversation. Silences were comfortable in a way they weren’t with Robb. Her husband was polite and friendly, but there were shadows in eyes. Grief from his father’s death, perhaps? The stresses of leadership? Daenerys offered to help Robb, review accounts, act as his scribe or page. After all, she had grown up at her brother’s knee, in his solar or council room, learning the day-to-day business of ruling. The North was far less populous than her brother’s realm, so what could hurt for Daenerys to take some of his burden? Something like dismay entered Robb’s eyes at her suggestion, and Dany hadn’t dared to suggest it again.

A darker thought whispered it was Robb’s prejudices that built walls between them. Ned Stark had named him for his best friend, Robert Baratheon. Had her new husband learned hate at his father knee, and loathed the silver-haired wife given to him? The unspoken words seemed to pile up between her and Robb. Each one forming the brick and mortar of the wall separating them.

And then this morning. Gods. The way Jon so passionately swore to protect her, the rough caress of his deep voice as he bent over her injured finger—He was her own personal torment. So close, so beautiful, but untouchable. If she touched him, even once, she would kiss him and tumble down a well of transgressions that would damn both their souls. So instead, she made love to ghosts and in the quiet of the lord’s chamber in Winterfell, gasped Jon’s name.

Dany rose from the sumptuous warmth of the bed with a regretful glance. As much as she would like to linger in bed, there was much to be done if they were to leave after the next freeze.                  

 ~

 Jon paced in the minuscule room, three paces to one wall, three paces back. Over and over and over. The motion should have helped give vent to the feelings boiling inside him, but instead the well of feeling crept up his throat and he choked down the urge to scream. Dany said his name. Dany said his name. Calling for him as she reached her pleasure. Had it wished it to be so badly that his ears fabricated the sound? If it was real, was it the passing fancy of a lovelorn wife? Or did she . . . could she . . .

             A sound from below caught his attention. He peered through the crack. Dany was bustling about the room, resuming her packing. Jon glanced down at himself. No unseemly stains, though he was still hard. He would probably remain so until winter came again. Daenerys had said his name. Jon tucked himself away. Straightened his clothes. Combed his sweat-damp hair from his face. Had the knowledge marked him? Was he lit afire with the knowledge that Dany wanted him? With effort, Jon sought calm, exhaling three deep breaths in succession. He imagined the smell of her lingered in his nose. Rose oil and a musky feminine sweetness.

Jon resumed his post outside Daenerys’ door. The door was cracked. There she was. Puttering about her room, muttering and cursing to herself. Maybe if he took a deep enough breath, he could smell the rich musk of her pleasure. His mouth flooded with saliva. Gods, just a taste . . .

Anchoring himself with practical matters, he noticed the snow had stopped. A watery sun peeked through shredded whisps of silver cloud. That might slow Robb’s plans. If the melt began in earnest, it would hamper the sledges. They could make it to Cerwyn without incident, but the big push west would be slowed by weeks if the snow thinned. Robb chomped at the bit to begin the progress. Father’s death weighed heavily on him, Jon knew. New tension rang from his usually confident posture, there were dark shadows in formerly guileless blue eyes. It was not proper for the lord to confide in a bastard—even if they were brothers. All Jon could offer was his presence, and a listening ear if Robb wanted it. Even though jealousy over Daenerys turned his guts black, Jon would be Robb’s stalwart shield. Ned Stark’s memory would tolerate nothing less.

Jon’s own preparations were small. His clothing, armor, and spare arms were already on the pack pony. The grooms were abuzz preparing the horses. His own stallion Storm awaited him. Temperamental on the best of days, with all the noise and activity, Storm would be even more prone to bite. Though Arya was Dany’s favored racing partner, Jon hoped away from the castle he could challenge Dany’s silver Filagree. Lady Stark would no doubt have words over the propriety of a bodyguard racing his charge. Perhaps the least scandalous of my desires, Jon mused.

Lady Stark had enough to worry over with a six-month gone and Daenerys not yet with child. Ned Stark had accomplished that feat within a fortnight of his wedding—with two different women. First with Lady Stark on his wedding night, then some three months later with an unnamed northern woman on his way south to treat with his brother-by-law Edmure Tully. And of that woman—Jon’s mother—his father said not one word. Jon did not know if she was alive or dead. The more he pondered it, Jon wasn’t certain if his father’s reticence was benign neglect or something more insidious. There’s little good in trying to untangle his motives now, Jon thought, reining his thoughts away from the dark path where they strayed. Too brooding, too reserved, too saturnine. A dark cloud obscuring Dany’s light. Jon winced at the thought.

“Jon?” Dany called.

“My lady,” Jon answered, shouldering through the door. Daenerys was on her knees on the bed, trying to force an over-stuffed chest shut. The half-stifled laugh emerged in a strangled snort. Daenerys leveled a violet slit-eyed glare at him, though there was a tell-tale quiver at the corner of her mouth stifling a smile.

“Are you going to stand there and snicker at me or are you going to help, ser?” Daenerys snapped.

“At your service, my lady,” Jon replied, leaning his elbow alongside hers to heave the chest closed. Dany threw the clasp with a triumphant cry. Jon chuckled. Jon leaned against the chest grinning down at her. Desire was low thrum deep in his gut, a strain of music woven through their every interaction. Still, he treasured laughing with her more than anything. As far as he could see, Robb wasn’t quick to make her laugh.

“I think you’ve enough for the progress, my lady. Enough for next winter too, I’d reckon,” he said.

“Aye, I’m sure you reckon,” Dany said in an exaggerated facsimile of his northern accent. Jon’s grin widened. Gods, she was beautiful. And as charming as a songbird.

“Dany? Are you in here?” Robb’s voice seemed to cut the air between them. Studying her face as he was, Jon thought he saw her smile freeze and falter slightly.

“Here, Robb,” she called. Jon heaved the chest off the bed just as Robb entered the room. He kissed Dany’s cheek in a glancing greeting.

“My lord,” Jon said with a bob of his head. Manners had been dinned into his head from his earliest moments, so deference was given without thought. Robb’s smile of greeting was distracted. Jon scrutinized his brother. The same tall, sturdy strength, his wavy auburn hair combed away from his forehead. The full line of his mouth had a new downward turn, his summer-blue eyes an unfocused air. A chill washed over Jon. Was Robb suspicious of him or Daenerys? Grey Wind trotted in at Robb’s heels, nudging Jon aside to lick Dany’s chin politely in greeting.

“Hello to you, my sweet boy!” Dany cooed to the direwolf, scrubbing behind his ears in greeting. The strong smell of wet dog stung Jon’s nostrils.  

“How goes it with the preparations, my lord?” Daenerys asked, looking up from Grey Wind’s adoring golden eyes. Even the direwolves were in love with her.

Robb surveyed the disarray of the room and busied his hands with smoothing the bedclothes.

“We are nearly ready. My only concern is the weather. A hard freeze would be best. We may have to delay our departure until the day after tomorrow.”

“Can we not begin on horseback? I hope the delay isn’t solely a concern for my comfort. I can ride,” Daenerys said, motioning for Grey Wind to sit. The smoke-grey wolf obligingly sat. Dany scratched the smoke-grey fur between Grey Wind’s ears and his yellow eyes dipped closed in slits of canine pleasure.  

Jon bit the inside of his lower lip to contain a smile. The hint of pugnaciousness in Dany’s voice amused him. Gods, he loved the fire in her. Jon glanced at Robb to share his admiration in his wife. Robb’s answering smile was thin as a needle.

“That is an elegant solution, wife,” Robb said, squeezing her hand in an affectionate gesture.

“Did you perchance speak with your lady mother about taking the younger o--”

“She wishes them to stay at Winterfell. Bran will accompany us as far as Cerwyn. Mother is of the opinion that he is too young to complete the entire progress.”

The dryness in his tone revealed what Robb thought of his mother’s opinions. Jon swallowed a familiar swelling of anger, seeded as deep as the molten blood of the earth. Too young? Bran was nine. Daeron the Young Dragon conquered Dorne at fourteen. Until Daenerys gave Robb a child, Bran was heir of Winterfell. The heir should know his lands, his people. He should ride at his brother’s side without his mother’s leading strings yanking him from the saddle. But it was not Jon’s place to say, despite Ned Stark’s blood running through his veins. Daenerys’ expression fell.

“I am saddened to hear it. Sansa, Arya, and little Rickon would have loved it,” Dany said softly. A true smile graced Robb’s face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“You needn’t worry yourself over their welfare, Dany. They’ve feasts and entertainments enough to occupy them. Isn’t that right, Jon?”

Jon scowled. Robb had a nasty habit of seeking Jon’s reinforcement in their arguments. Jon loathed it.

“I think Father would have liked his younger sons to see more of the North, my lord,” Jon said. Robb grunted.

“Humph. Enough blathering. It is decided. We leave at first light, regardless of the weather,” Robb said, pecking Dany’s cheek and leaving in a swirl of leather. Grey Wind rose and loped at Robb’s heels. Dany met Jon’s gaze. He didn’t miss the shadows in them. Robb’s presence was enough to dispel the upwelling of lust the sound of his name had wrought. Whatever Daenerys’ feelings for him, their duty remained. I would do well to remember that.

 The next morning dawned with a brilliant golden sun. The reflected light off the glitter of snow stabbed the eye. Wind whispered for the pines, carrying their fresh scent. Clean, cold air filled the lungs and for a moment, Jon forgot his exhaustion in the excitement stretched before them. Preparations had lingered long into the night, so his hours of sleep were few. By one token, it was a boon. He was too exhausted to dream of Dany or the way her lips formed his name as she found her pleasure.

Jon stifled a yawn in his cuff. Storm tossed his black mane, the vapor of his breath curling like smoke in the cold air. Jon steadied him with a pat. He, Robb, Daenerys and Bran sat at the head of the party, beneath the Stark banner, snapping in the breeze. Robb shifted impatiently in the saddle, awaiting the bugle to sound, signaling the baggage wains were at last ready to depart. Bran sat ramrod straight on his piebald pony, his Stark gorget flashing like fish scales in a dark pond. Excitement vibrated from him, the sole Stark child to leave Winterfell. Lady Stark must be tied in knots of anxiety. It was a poorly kept secret that Bran was her favorite.

Jon hid a grin at Bran’s eagerness and glanced at Dany. For their wedding, Robb had gifted her with a magnificent coat of white fur applied in zigzagging patterns. She wore it well. Jon admired the red silk scarf she wore, embroidered with jet thread. A reminder that though her name might be Stark, she was a Targaryen to her marrow. Grey Wind, Summer and Ghost gamboled through the fresh snow, brimming with energy. Filagree sidled and Daenerys soothed her with a murmured word. The silver’s smoke-grey ears flicked back, listening. The silver was a gift to Rheagar from a Dothraki khal across the Narrow Sea. The king had a keen interest in horseflesh and sought to increase friendly ties with the Dothraki. Dany could even speak some of their harsh language, as one of her handmaidens had been fluent in it. When she told the story, sadness darkened those violet eyes. Missandei with her cloud of Summer Islander hair, watchful golden eyes and quiet, beautiful soul. Dany missed her most of all her ladies.

The bugle sounded and gooseflesh stippled on Jon’s arms. Time to leave Winterfell. Blood surged through his body with excitement. The cold nipped at Jon’s ears and nose. Robb heeled his sorrel charger Ember south toward Cerwyn. Bran’s pony lunged at his stirrup. Snow crunched under the horse’s hooves. Bugles sounded, harness jangled, the carts groaned, guards cursed. Snowdrifts crowded them into a line, Robb and Bran in front, then Dany and Jon.    

“Tell me of the Cerwyns, husband. They were close bannermen to your lord father?” Dany asked.

“Indeed, wife,” Robb said, craning his neck to smile at Dany, “There was scarce a fortnight Medger Cerwyn didn’t share our table.”

“He’s half deaf, so the entire hall could hear the bawdy tales he shared with Father,” Jon said. Daenerys laughed.

“Certainly no worse than my brother Viserys. He delights in scandalizing me,” Dany said, “And what of Lady Cerwyn?”

“A fever took her three years ago. Her daughter Jonelle is Lady of Cerwyn now,” Robb said.

“She’s nice. She makes honeycakes,” Bran interjected.

“Mm, I love honeycakes!” Dany said, twisting in her saddle to wink at Bran.    

“Medger’s son Cley is heir of Cerwyn. He is of an age of Robb and I,” Jon said. What Jon didn’t say is that there were whispers of Cley Cerwyn and his taste for fondling serving maids. Jon wouldn’t be letting Daenerys out of his sight. A woman so beautiful would certainly tempt Cerwyn. Just like she tempted Jon himself.      

#jonerys endgame #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #robberys #robb and dany are married #don't like don't read #pining

[wispstalk]

land

Cloud Ruler Temple clings to the mountainside. At times it's as if the barren slopes are all that remains of the world, an island of cold rock drifting in some hazy void. All the rest, from the wind-battered highlands to the glittering Topal bay, seems burnt away— a dream forgotten with no one left to dream it.

Martin leans in a crenel, flanked by the two watchtowers. Up here the wind rides high and wild, plucking at the ends of his hair as it races by. First Seed can only charitably be considered a spring month this far north, but the brazier nearby fends off the chill, and Bruma Valley sleeps curled at the foot of the mountain. Tanis was right: this really is the best brooding spot in the whole temple.

A hand on his shoulder. Martin had been so absorbed in his thoughts he hadn’t heard anyone approach. Before he can rouse himself to turn, a slender grey hand comes to cover his eyes.

“Tanis, what—”

“What phase is Secunda in?” the Hero of Kvatch cuts in.

“I—” Martin lets out a soft huff of laughter. “I don’t know. I was… somewhere else.”

“I know you were.” Tanis lowers his hand and cups Martin’s jaw, tilting it upward.

Secunda full, Masser a waxing crescent. A cold, clear night, with high winds herding the clouds away. One seems to have strayed from the flock, however: Tanis nudges him with an elbow, proffering a steaming mug.

An alchemist never offers tea without some ulterior motive. With the coming of spring, Tanis has been plying the temple’s residents with “blood tonics,” whatever those are. But he has a mind for flavor: the bitter, earthy root is rounded out with fennel and cardamom, sweetened with honey. The warmth of it in his hand, the warmth of Tanis at his back, settles Martin back into himself. He breathes in the aromatic steam and looks out again with fresh eyes.

Up here the plants hang on for dear life. Tough, scrubby little things, huddled low in the hollows that pock the rough granite. Down the slopes their defenses thicken: evergreens bent into crooked sprays, their rugged branches bearing crowns of bright, tender green. The spruce buds are luminous in the moonlight. Evidence of another winter survived, another chance to jostle for a place in the sun.

“A prison with a view,” Tanis remarks, “but damned if it isn’t the best view in all Cyrodiil.”

“I've wondered what keeps you here,” Martin says wryly. "Moved up in the world from your dungeon cell, haven't you?"

Tanis slips an arm around Martin’s waist. “I like it here. More than I thought I would. I've seen every corner of this land of yours by now, priest, and it's a fine one.”

Martin breaks into a faint smile. “It really is.”

Far below them the forest spills down the mountain like dark velvet. Bruma’s watchfires are tiny embers in the coal-dark valley. He makes a note to come out in the daylight. Surely there is a stirring in the cradle of the Jeralls. Sun-starved residents baring their arms in defiance of the chill, farmers out to till the fallow fields. Here he is too high up to see the bustle, but he knows— despite all, the sun will draw them out.

He spent his childhood with his hands in the soil, his body tuned to the grand order of the seasons, his mind trained to look for the potential that lives in each tiny seed. Every stretch of land on which he’s walked has given him something to love. Tall reeds waving on the shores of Lake Rumare; dark-winged skimmers nesting in Anvil’s dunes; stubborn Kvatch in the hinterlands, perched proudly on its hill.

And yes, even here. The silent, remote immensity of stone, keeping vigil over the boundless horizon.

The mountain fastness seems less an island to him now. It settles, takes root; becomes part of a living, breathing whole. A land that goes on, and on.

#can you tell i am pre-emptively fending off the winter sads #tes oblivion #hero of kvatch #martin septim #elder scrolls #oc: tanis #long post #ray writes

[phoenixmaiden-gaming]

I found a cave that was to have a Misko treasure. It was the Crenel Hills Cave and I found a blue frog that I was able to kill. I then found my first Talus. I could have just run as I wasn’t strong enough to beat it, especially after the two times it killed me. But I didn’t give up. It took me at least 7-8 times before I was able to beat it. Finally! I then found the Misko treasure of a Barbarian Armor. Then I went outside the cave and found another Korok Seed. That makes 15.

#phoenix be gaming #The Legend of Zelda Tears of the Kingdom #Nintendo Switch #gaming #gameplay #playthrough #game #games #video games #gamer #gamer fun #gamer girl #gamer life #Entertainment #Nothing is Queue Everything is Permitted

[ihaveabsolutelynoideas]

I posted 358 times in 2022

That's 264 more posts than 2021!

18 posts created (5%)

340 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@kyoupann

@soybean-official

@thelegendofwicked

@timeturner-jay

@sister-dear

I tagged 275 of my posts in 2022

Only 23% of my posts had no tags

#linked universe - 133 posts

#loz - 29 posts

#lu four - 28 posts

#tmnt - 12 posts

#rottmnt - 10 posts

#lu wolfie - 8 posts

#linkeduniverse - 7 posts

#lu twilight - 7 posts

#wolf link - 7 posts

#yes - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 128 characters

#give me one good reason why anyone who’s so offended would stick around in a fandom lead by someone they claim to be so horrible

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Four and Twilights friendship is so underrated.

Look at this tiny guy just holding his friends shield because he can’t be with him right now. He’s not moving it or anything he’s just holding it as a way to feel closer to Twi and that just makes me so sad for these two. And he only puts it down when Wind and everyone else gets back. This is just like when he went out to hang out with Epona.

I know everyone is always focused on Time and Wild when it comes to Twilight but real talk I think Four is just as close to Twi. These two hang out often, they share secrets, and they have a very mutual respect for each other.

Four and Twilight are best friends and this is hill I’m going to die on

299 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

#4

Did someone say Minish Cap

Things about the Minish Cap that more people should talk about because it’s adorable and hilarious

The Power Braceletes. Makes Minish Four strong enough that he can move things regular sized Four can move. That means Four can canonically throw people around when he's two inches tall. Time's Golden Gauntlets can get dunked on (Only when Four is tiny tho. He doesn't have enhanced strength when he's big. The bracelets were made for Minish so I guess they don't work when he's big lol).

His Gust Jar sucked up a ghost. Just slurped it right up. And Four can see spirits too, apparently, because not everyone saw that ghost.

Kinstones are fucking weird - they make doorways open, repair fallen trees, create chests, summon ladders, AND OPEN PORTALS? They can also create Golden enemies.

Golden enemies are extra hard to kill like in BOTW and they also drop a lot of extra loot. I guess all those Golden enemies in BOTW were spawned from Kinstones too???

He has a Grip Ring which helps him climb and his cap can be used like a paraglider. Why does no one ever address this?

Four also has Remote Bombs - a Minish inventor living in a mushroom gave them to him.

Can use his ocarnia to summon a tiny bird named Zeffa to carry him around. Normal-Sized Four can be carried by a little bird.

Din, Nayru and Farore exist in his time. Din is from Holodrum and is a dancer while Nayru is an oracle who comes from Labryanna. Are these the same from Legend's time? Who knows - certainly not the timeline

Vaati was a minish. He was Ezlos apprentice.

Ezlo is a super talented Minish. He made a cap that grants the wishes of those who wear it. He literally made his own triforce.

Hilariously, Zelda is a shoe lover. She is the shoemakers main source of income. That's canon. This princess has a closet full of shoes.

Four has fused Kinstones with mysterious walls. Yes, I said walls. Don't ask me how that works.

He also fuses kinstones with clouds. Literal clouds. This kid is crazy.

Town Picori apparently live in town because they really, really like humans. They used to be Forest Minish but they moved to be closer to the humans 🥺

Mountain Minish are not native to the mountain. There are only eight Minish on Mt. Crenel and seven of them are students who chose to follow their master, Melari, when he moved.

Apparently Gorons are in short supply during Four's era. They used to live on Mt. Crenel but now they live in a cave because there are so few of them. What happened to them?

Clouds are solid? Four walks on them. They aren't floating platforms or anything - it's just straight cloud. Idk man.

All kids in Hyrule go to the school in Hyrule Town, including Zelda and Link. Yes, Zelda actually attended a public school. Elementary school fic anyone?

Acrobandits. There's not much to them I just like to mention them whenever I can. They're little bandit ducks who stack on top of eachother, what's not to love?

Grandpa Smith and King Daltus (Zeldas Father) have a history. Both of them were talented swordsmen back in the day. They were friends and rivals. They even faced each other in the Picori Festival Swordfighting Tournament me year and eventually fought to a draw.

Zelda and Four are confirmed to have met through their father and grandfather. They are second generation friends.

Zelda is kind of a badass. In the beginning of the game Vaati wins the swordfighting tournament and the thus the right to approach a magically sealed chest with all of Hyrule's evil trapped inside. When he announces his evil intentions to open it the guards try to stop him. He attacks, blowing back the King and all of the Guards. Then he tries to approach the chest. But Dot, instead of fleeing, summons her magic ability and actually squares up like she's going to fight him. In the cutscene she actually approaches him like she and Vaati are in that Jojo Walking Meme. It's great and I love her.

This game has a bad ending. In the leadup to the final battle against Vaati, Four has to fight his way up the castle before a bell chimes three times. There is no visible counter or timer but you can actually take too long. If you do, then the bell chimes a final time and you get a small cutscene of Vaati taking Dot's lightforce. So there is actually a way to lose this game without dying.

The Lightforce. There is no triforce in this game. The Lightforce is a magical energy that was gifted to the Royal Family by Minish. There is no real description of what it is other than pure magical energy.

Two out of the five dungeons Four goes through are Minish sized. The Temple of Droplets and the Forest Temple. The Bosses are a single octorok and one (1) Chu, respectively. Do what you will with that information.

For the first part of the game Four uses Smith's Sword, the sword made by his grandfather, until he exchanges it for the White Sword, which he eventually forges into the Four Sword.

The Four Sword can break curses. Everyone in the castle gets turned into stone and Four saves them all by charging up his sword and hitting them with a sword beam.

Anyone in Four's Era can just buy a pair of Pegasus boot. They aren't dungeon items. (Zelda definitely has a pair)

See the full post

324 notes - Posted February 22, 2022

#3

Alright let's just get one thing clear here-

Four is 100% right here. Wild absolutely needs to be stopped. By force, if necessary (and it looks like it will be necessary).

Twilight is hanging on by a thread. Last we saw him the guy was barely conscious, unable to even keep his eyes open. He's making death speeches that may or may not be because he's delirious. He's drifting in and out of consciousness. He has no strength to waste on anything but breathing.

He most certainly doesn't need Wild bursting in and stressing him out. Let's not forget; Twilight is Wild's emotional support wolf. He's there when the champion has nightmares and stays with him through his memories. He's been there for Wild all through Wild's known life. He feels responsible for Wild's emotional state, even stating that he wished he could do more.

You really think seeing Wild so distraught is going to be good for him? Because it won't. The only one who'll benefit is Wild, and even that is questionable at best.

Because Wild is living in denial. He's insisting that no one can die, refusing to even hear Four name it as a possibility. He's volatile to the point of manhandling Four out of the way and shouting at anyone who doesn't give him the answers he wants to hear. Can you imagine the damage he could do just by being in the room? Yelling at Twilight to get up, yelling at Hyrule to heal him, yelling at Time for getting in the way?

Any extra stress could tip the scales when Twilight's on the razor's edge.

Four sees the writing on the wall.

"I can't let you go through like this"

Wild is in no state to be around someone so weak. If he were calmer then there might be an argument here but as it is Wild is just too wound up.

And what Wild wants right now is, frankly, selfish. He isn't listening to Four and choosing the best course of action for Twilight; he's thinking about himself. He's worried for Twilight, sure, but it's a selfish worry. Instead of wondering "what can I do to maximize the chance Twilight survives" he's instead thinking "I need to see him no matter what". No matter who he has to abandon, walk away from or fight through. Even though he's told, in no uncertain terms, that it wouldn't be helpful unless he knew a way to help Twilight heal (and he's given no such indication).

He is straight up told that Twilight "doesn't need this right now" but still insists on seeing him anyway.

Because he wants what he always wants from Twilight: comfort. He wants to be told that it's all going to be fine and the longer he's denied the crutch he's been counting on the more hot headed he gets. Because he's freaking out, in a full blown PTSD meltdown and of course he's searching for support in the once person he’s always counted on.

Which is understandable, but not excusable. Trauma explains shitty behavior but it doesn't vindicate it; You can't endanger other people just because you're triggered - it doesn't work like that.

And let's not forget he's not the only one suffering right now. He might have the strongest bond with Twilight but he doesn't have the only one. Every Link is Twilight's friend. Each and everyone of them would miss him if he were gone. Wild does not hold the monopoly on grief and it's not fair to forgive Wild's actions while damning everyone else.

Four himself is pretty close to Twilight and he had enough sense to tell Twilight not to worry about them. If Four can look past his own wants for Twilight's sake then why is it too much to ask Wild to do it too?

So I'm not hoping Four kicks his ass because I want Wild to be hurt, okay? I want Four to kick his ass so that he's forced to confront his own selfishness. Because no matter how sad or distraught Wild is it does not matter more than Twilight's life. Even if seeing Twilight will help Wild a lot and only hurt Twi a little, that little is still much more important in this scenario.

Because feelings can be fixed later. Death is permanent.

(To be very clear I'm happy Wild is being selfish here from a narrative standpoint. I love my characters flawed and I think it's good for Wild in the long run. There is absolutely nothing wrong with a character making a bad choice in the heat of the moment. Even on my personal favorites I welcome character flaws because overcoming those flaws make for stronger characters. I just typed this up because I don't like that some people are acting like Wild is a victim here when he is very clearly the aggressor. Because that's not a bad thing to be! It just means there's character development in the works!)

354 notes - Posted February 16, 2022

#2

The Great Warriors Misconception

It’s been noted that there’s been a steady uptick in Warriors content in the fandom recently. Although not all of it has been flattering. Fanonization of a character is pretty normal; once a characteristic has been identified it tends to get thrown around the fandom echo chamber until it’s permeated through most of the fandom. So there’s nothing unusual there. It’s happened with Sky’s sleepiness, Time’s mystique, and Wild’s angst. But in the case of Warriors it gets a little strange. See, his canon character didn’t really translate over to fandom so cleanly.

In fact, I found that many of his supposedly “well-known” traits don’t actually have any canon basis. Even the ones you think are rooted in canon are actually fandom constructed on some small misconceptions.

First, let's get the basics out of the way: Warriors is not a flirty pretty boy. In fact, I’d go so far as to say he’s not flirty at all. I can see where this idea started but upon closer inspection it's actually way more complicated than you’d expect. In ‘Doodles 6’ on the archive we’re treated to this:

Where we see Wars hiding from a few women. Now, we’ve all been kinda taking this to mean that he was flirting with all the women in the tavern. But when you look at it objectively it actually appears to be the opposite; women are approaching him. And not only are they flirting with him but he doesn’t seem to be enjoying it. Jojo’s notes below actual lend this this idea too:

“Hero of warriors has so many ladies after him… you know, for his heart…and soul…and his head 💀”

There’s nothing there about Warriors being a flirt. The whole pretty boy thing is a reference to his game where the main conflict started when Cia fell in love with the hero's spirit, thus causing the whole war. So him being desirable has nothing to do with a playboy personality and everything to do with his appearance.

And speaking of his appearance, he’s not all that concerned about his. Again, another misconception. In ‘mirror shield’ he’s examining his black eye, yes, but it’s nothing egregious. It’s only natural to check on your injury. And in ‘Regroup’ he doesn’t seem to have a problem with a scratched up face; he’s smirking and joking as usual. So he’s clearly not that bothered.

Moving on, his core personality. I don’t know where anyone got the idea that he was a jokey/comical character but he’s not. When it comes down to it he’s right up there with Twilight in seriousness during battles. He’s usually the one helping Time to come up with plans (‘the shadow pt1’ & ‘new time new place’) and in situations where Time isn’t there Warriors steps up and takes charge (‘Divine Dark Reflections pt8’ and ‘Sunset pt4-5’). In Sunset in particular we see him displaying a huge range of his leadership abilities; he stays with Twilight when Time and Sky are speaking, convinces Twilight to leave the battlefield, fills in the group upon return and send Four and Hyrule ahead once he learns about Life, takes control of the battlefield and comes up with a plan. Even when Wild deviates from the plan, Warriors again demonstrates his leadership abilities by putting aside the lecture and focusing on solving the problem of the leftover monsters.

And even when he’s not in battle he’s able to take things seriously and read the room. In ‘Memories pt1’ Twilight and Time subtly try to move the group along to spare Wild when the champion gets stuck in his head. Warriors picks up on it immediately, even without knowing the specifics, and helps herd Wind away. And in ‘Heroes Legacy’ he notices Time being quieter than normal and asks about it. He’s so much more emotionally intelligent than he gets credit for.

There’s also this thing in the fandom about him thinking titles are important? Like, respecting someone more if they are a knight or something. And that’s baloney, actually, because Wars canonically does not give a shit. He doesn’t care about formalities (‘Doodles 6’) nor that Hyrule isn’t officially a knight (‘Divine Dark Reflection pt8’). He doesn’t seem to care about any titles, actually, based on his discussion with Legend in ‘The Bet’:

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536 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I gotta say I love the dynamics here. Everyone is all “You got so much to live for!” and “You can fight this!”

Meanwhile Warriors is just

“What are you? A little bitch?”

These two really do just embody Older Sibling Energy and I’m here for it

594 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #wow I make long posts #but also lol my top two posts were about warriors? #not what I would have thought with my rabid obsession with Four but I'm not complaining #Wars is a good character

[babblingbranches]

Ok, I haven’t figured out the rhyme or reason for where those handsy hellspawn appear (I’ve had one randomly appear in the Crenel Hills, the ruins of Castle Town just inside the walls on the West side, the Taobab Grasslands, and in the Depths below Davdi Island), but I think I might know the when. I suspect it appears sometime soon after a blood moon.

Or maybe it was hellbent on revenge after I killed it the first time that it keeps coming back at the first opportunity after a blood moon revival...

#legend of zelda #TotK #totk spoilers #What on earth are its spawn mechanics??? #I suppose the drops you can get from it are neat though

[halloweenvalentine1997]

I would wrap you in blue if I could

Drink the chemicals in your blood

and watch the narcissist drown

Peace will prevail on the pale hills

when the stars fall on your casket

I would trap you in blue, in crenellated towers, in battles

and scatter sprigs (picked off of plants from the cemetery) on your cold skin

Wounds open, doors close

My mind is lost, my heart is a vault

Devouring and consuming

in blue wastelands

Oxidized and cavern-eyed

Bones turning to plush

Your flesh the color of a swimming pool, a summer sky, a blue moon turned to dust, to a serpentine memory biting into my vision

- “Blue” by June Freeland

#poetry #mine #2-28-23