#GNAWING AT THE WALLS. AUGH.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERES A RIOLU BUILD A BEAR PLUSHIE

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

okay sorry for the confusion yes he is. but he doesn’t wanna be

imagine if you got your brain stripped out but you had a magic failsafe in place so I guess instead of turning into a mindless drone you just reverted back into your child self And managed to stick around in your original form as a spectre so you could yell at your child self anytime your child self didn’t meet your expectations or do as good as they needed to to be as successful in life as you were.

that’s what’s going on. as far as I understand it and the jury’s still out on the details given the fact that no one else who got the same brain-wipe seems to be nearly as coherent and capable as him nor did they turn into actual children like he did. baby pep doesn’t like getting yelled at all the time and is being raised in a very different environment than original pep was so he’s not the same person emotionally but he’s basically just. if peps had to start over from babyhood, but with his adult self looking over him criticizing his every move to his face and his moms are all settled down together and domestic instead of volatile and mid break-up

[yellow-computer-mouse]

SLAMMING MY HAND ON THE TABLE IT'S THEM!!!!!!!!!

When your boyfriends fall asleep on you because they can’t stand the summer heat..

Winter x Turtle x Blue save me… I call it WinTur Blue 😈😈😈 erm I blame @yellow-computer-mouse for this he’s converted me 😔😔😔😔

Reblogs mean more than likes!

[nordarknessdimsthesky]

A linguistic analysis of tumblr hyperbole in the tags

This post expands my previous analysis of hyperbolic reactions to cluster tags by themes. There were too many themes, some of them overlapping, to create a cohesive graph. Instead, I present several overarching themes from a data set of 50 tags observed and documented in various corners of tumblr.

1. Feeling Normal™️

Tags within this cluster profess Normal feelings (read: extreme excitement, enthusiasm, obsession, derangement, etc.).

#mmmmrrrghuhhhhghhh #I'm so normal about it teehee #absolutely not rending my clothing #feeling very normal and not feral at all #i will simply never recover #gif sets sent to personally destroy me #i can't cope #the eyes #i'm a puddle #i am INCONSOLABLE #i am DISTRAUGHT #IM NOT OKKAAAAAAYYYYYY #FEELING TOTALLY ONE HUNDRED PERCENT NORMAL

2. Feralness

The following data points conjure animalistic behavior. There’s a non-zero amount of biting and chewing involved.

#chomping biting barking #biting my arms off #rattling my cage #[incoherent biting noises] #chewing glass #chewing through wood #*shaking the bars of my enclosure* HELLO!!!!!!!! #climbing the walls #biting gnawing chewing #im gonna rip off my front door and eat it

3. Noisy Emotional Outbursts

These tags encompass crying, screaming, yelling, and other loud reactions.

# shaking sobbing crying #SCREAMIIIING BANGING MY HEAD ON THE WALL #*no thoughts only wailing* #i am SOBBING #IM CRYING LIKE A BITCH #*just fucking yelling* #S C R E A M #screeching into a pillow #brb sobbing for 5-7 business years

4. Throwing

All of these tags except the last one involve being thrown instead of throwing things. I, personally, am entertained by the range of places/situations people are throwing themselves into.

#i am going to THROW MYSELF into the SEA #hurl me into the sea #hurl me into the sun #trebuchet me into the sun #hurl me straight at europa #vent me out of an airlock #slam me against a wall #put me in a box and throw me down the stairs #throwing myself into traffic you know? #just defenestrate me already #defenestrate me #absolutely hurl me through plate glass #i'm going to start tossing furniture

5. Bodily Harm

There’s a good deal of overlap with the previous theme. Nearly all of the tags involving throwing would result in varying degrees of bodily harm. Here are the tags outside of the Throwing subgroup.  

#im going to throw upppppp #tearing my hair out #banging my head against the wall #SCREAMIIIING BANGING MY HEAD ON THE WALL #biting my arms off #microwaving myself #crumple me up and microwave me

6. Absurdism

My personal favorite cluster. The imagery conjured and resulting comedic hyperbole is just [chef’s kiss].

#im gonna rip off my front door and eat it #crumple me up and microwave me #put me in a box and throw me down the stairs #defenestrate me #absolutely hurl me through plate glass

7. Keysmashes

These tags center less around meaning and more around style, so they form the last group. A handful of these could fall under Noisy Emotional Outbursts because they represent reaction noises. In my linguistic judgment, keysmashing increases the hyperbole – consider augh versus aughfhghghghhh – the latter reads as prolonged and more intense emotionally.

#aghdjakgsjadhjaka * #hrhrhrhgnnnghhhhh #aughfhghghghhh #mmmmrrrghuhhhhghhh #I'm so normal about it teehee #waughfhghghh #oughhhhghghhh

*one digression in a friend discord server was how people interpret keysmashes in their minds. Some hear the first couple letters and then some sputtering, others hear static. It’s a common joke that you need a minor in linguistics to understand conversations in this friend group. Such is the nature of things when the chaos linguist energy is strong.

[tommyssupercoolblog]

THE SHOW WAS AMAZING OMGGGGGG RAAAUGHGJFHFHFH GOES FERAL AND GNAWS ON MY COMPUTER

ALSO I MADE NEW MUTIALS HI NEW MUTUALS!!!! HEWWO!!!! BAPS YOU WITH MY PAWS

Spoilers under the cut

H-o-t-t-o-g-o, you can take me HOT to goooo

TWINKS ON ICE and "camera flash can be distracting, Phil will fall of the stage and die" absolutely SLAYED me

Dan accidentally said "Dan and pheal" instead of Dan and Phil and they both stopped to pretend to hold the pheal. Dan said that would be a better show than this.

SISTER DANIEL SLAYED

I don't know if this happens at EVERY show but in ours, the audience chose to kill the original Dan and Phil every time

Dan has illegalized ted Cruz but then got arrested for being British. Dr Phil loves helping old ladies cum and his favorite word is skibidi. I don't remember the third facts for either

Even though it wasn't picked, a whole bunch of people around us (and us) started chanting "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK" when they asked what Dr. Phil's favorite word would be. Later we chanted "TOUR BUS" but that one worked!!!!

One of the audience confessions was that someone likes to "mark their territory" (yes. In the gross way) to know what it's like so sister Daniel called them a bad kitty and they sprayed the audience with water. Also Phil called out that some people had their MOUTHS OPEN while they were being sprayed.

The other audience confessions were that someone wrote "Phantrash(insert some numbers I can't remember)" on a wall in invisible ink and then MOVED OUT OF THW HOUSE AND LEFT IT THERE??? And then a confession that just said "someone in the audience thinks you sound like owls" which they both were confused by at first, but then Dan's face like. LIT UP in recognition and he repeated the question to Phil and Phil said "Who?" And Dan LOST IT and made fun of him. LMAO

They explained their first experience at a bucces. And THEN later phil said that his new favorite nuts are bucces nuts (as revealed later when they were asked by the audience to discuss nuts). Also they hate peanuts and think no one likes them unless they're paid to by "big peanut". And they both like "hot nuts" and Dan likes them salted and Phil likes them sweetened/candied. And yes they made sex jokes about it and also Dan said that Phil's favorite nuts were actually HIS NUTS

Phil having the phitties to the wind was not what I expected

I. Could have SWORN that there was an ...."uninvited guest" in the 🍑 part of the wresting match but no one's posted about it even though the whole theatre was like "AUGH!!" And they cut away and I turned to everyone next to us and was like "!!!! Uh oh was that REAL?? Um-" so. Maybe we were wrong. But I was about to be like "DANIEL HOWELL I AM SO SORRY I HOPE YOUR THERAPIST IS SO GOOD BECAUSE I PERSONALLY WOULD DIE"

Dan wore a cowboy hat during the musical number

I NEED THAT SONG IN MY PLAYLIST AND THAT DANCE MEMORIZED

I MISSED THE FUCKING PHOTO OPP BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T GIVE ME ENOUGH WARNINF TO UNLOCK MY PHONEEEE evil. Evil of them. Dan and Phil you betrayed me personally. Evil. I DID however get them walking aways

I bought the Dan and Phil made me gay shirt

Unrelated to the show itself but someone was handing out worms, and there were SO many sister Daniel cosplayers, and I happened to sit literally right in front of two other systems so it was like. Halfway through the show we realized that's what was happening and it was like HEWWO???? WOAH. Also this was my first time in Austin and guys... guys some sections of these roads are fucking perpendicular. I saw multiple people with mobility aids and like I HAVE ZERO AIDS AND IT HURT TO WALK ARE Y'ALL GOATS??? ARE YOU JUST NOT ABLE TO WALK OUTSIDE AT ALL AND HAVE TO TAKE CARS??? The whole fucking city is a series of V shapes with buildings on it. Girl why do your streets go straight up into the sky are you trying to drive up to jesus. Liked the rentable scooters tho

[candyskiez]

teru and shigeo (???%) for the duo bingo

As you can see I have a normal amount of thoughts and feelings about them.

(romantically ad platonically are because I love their dynamic either way)

God. God. What do I even say about them I haven't already said. Actually I don't think I've said much publicly I usually scream in my friends dms. Hold on. I can talk so much about this.

It's the. God. Okay. God I wish the ???% and Mob seen was kept in full in the anime because like. So much of the shit he says to Mob/himself/you know. Hand waves. Weird self shenanigans. We're going w the system read for this tho. It's so fucking Teru? It's so fucking Teru??? The "there's nobody I can trust nobody here so why don't I just do whatever the fuck I want, none of these people matter, it's all pointless, I deserve BETTER." The. The parallels. The rage. The angry confusing feelings the why have YOU decided we're friends the fact they're the SAME and they both hate it at that low point, they hate seeing themselves reflected and they feel like the worst person in the world so they NEED the other to attack them and hurt them so they don't feel like they're the one in the wrong. The resentment. The. Oh my god. There is no way to make me shut up about them.

God. Post canon. What does ???% even do now. He was wrong. He did the exact thing he hated Teru for doing. He has no idea if he regrets it because Teru did it FIRST. Why does he have to be the good person here. Why can't he stay mad. Do you ever think about. Do you ever think about the fucking. Gestures wildly. Everything. Hello. And the. The. God what do I even say. Everything about post canon is so fascinating. Why does nobody explore the messy shit. Why is everyone insistent on making it Just Fluff. Like I love the fluff too but why can't you talk about the messy shit without being stabbed. It's weird man. I find the messy parts so interesting yk. I want to see them! And I want to see how do you even GO ABOUT fixing a slight that bad. Y'know. Y'know. Breaks a wall.

Me and a friend (if ur reading this, hi!) talk so much about aus with them. Like. What way can you make them NOT interesting. Like aus where they're friends before character development are so so interesting to mess with. What's up there. You remind me of myself and I don't think that's a good thing. You understand me and I've wanted that more than anything else and I think I'm going to ruin this. Like. HRHRHDHDH. Gnaws on a wall. You are just like me and I didn't realize how fucking selfish I could be until I saw how you are. Vs I know you and I know why you did it and you make sense and. Shakes them. Shakes them!!!!! They would be SO INTERESTING as being close in some way whatever you want to interpret them as. They're everything. I want to put them in a terrarium and study them. Like them meeting each other before canon and being friends and their development Changing because of that. Do you get it. Do you get it. It's complicated! It's weird! Aaaagh!!! AUGH. Augh

[chaos-monkeyy]

Chaos I'm gnawing at the walls, I'm reading Rhythm of War again and !!! The way Dalinar feels and is there when Kal needs him, needs to be picked up (literally picked up, that one time) each time the lad is at a supernaturally low point?! Soulmates. I'm not over them.

Aaaaaaaahhhh I KNOW RIGHT

I'm never going to be over them, the way their whole dynamic develops over the books before that, and leads into just this.. two-way need to be there for one another-- and Dalinar taking the Stormfather's own power just to save Kaladin because NOTHING else is acceptable askfgjdhsgskd

*flailing*

I Need More augh 🙈😍😩

....er, I mean, yeah I am also totally normal about them, absolutely. yes.

[psychiclounge]

also hey how did i go . this long without knowing rik schaffer put out another album of unused vtmb songs in june,

[ahlis-xiv]

journal 50.4

G’raha sat alone, semi-hunched over a piece of parchment as he worked. Although he did not show it, the drafting he ambitiously began was nothing short of a place between fascinating and downright tediousness. The solution to tempering that nestled within his mind and finding a proper way to convey it into some sort of physicality that others could understand took time and a level of focus that brought him back to his Studium days.

He did not mind the effort, really, yet part of him couldn’t help but feel he could be applying himself to something else...namely figuring out why his dear friend decided to depart in such a hurry without so much as a word.

G’raha sighed, and scratched out part of the formulae he attempted to use as a proper proof. It wasn’t correct or, rather, not good enough, and he knew it: it almost felt like he had to somehow invent a whole new notation and he was second guessing every attempt. That, he knew, was as strong a sign as any that he needed a break.

Abandoning his work for the more welcoming sight above Mor Dhona proper, he took to his usual perch and leaned over the ledge to watch the activity below. Ever since he arrived there—since waking up, really—G’raha found the habit of people-watching a welcome one when it came to clearing his head. It had also been an old habit as well from his time as the Exarch. It was difficult at times to not be reminded of it when he went there to be alone--not that it troubled him, but rather his thoughts inevitably wandered to those he had to let go. To old friends and, naturally, to her.

What would Lyna think, he wondered. Of everything? Despite assurances, both given and told to own self, he knew it was a question not quite answerable. He was unfettered, free—free to live the life he wished. A second chance. Yet something gnawed away at his heart that only grew in the wake of what occurred in Ala Mhigo. And the Warrior of Light was nowhere in sight.

He didn’t wish to admit it, but that this point most of all prickled his thoughts. She had been wounded in the confrontation: not severely but enough to warrant considerable healing, namely for her arms. She berated herself for not properly handling the situation, that it was foolish to not deal with Fandaniel and his summoning there and then somehow. When the dust settled with wounds seen to and mended, she slipped away and out of his reach.

G’raha’s hands clasped together in front of him, fretting as his anxiety swelled. Ahlis said many things in the aftermath at the menagerie; much of which he knew was said in a fury he rarely witnessed. He also knew he ought to not dwell on it, as it was not directed towards him—but it felt personal, watching the anger and the walls that suddenly erected around her, forbidding his approach. Surely she knew, she must’ve known that he cared—that they all cared? G’raha understood what it meant to seek solace, to lick one’s wounds after a poor bout in battle, yet to shut him out? Why?

He huffed a frustrated growl, and pouted to himself. This is not about you, G’raha, his more sensible self spoke in his mind. It did little to help when he knew naught what to do with his...feelings, with no soul to utter them to. For the moment, all he had in certainty, was himself.

Looking above to the darkening sky, stars were beginning to sparkle in the deep blue, the gloom weak and unable to hinder their shine. He hoped that wherever Ahlis was, and however she felt, that her safety was sure and her healing swift.

---

Ahlis suddenly grasped the pillow within her bare arms as a sneeze escaped her nose and immediately regretted it.

“Bless you, dearest,” Aymeric spoke above her, his hands gently working her back’s aches and pains into a soothing massage.

“Augh, no,” she said, voice muffled by soft cotton where she shoved her face into it. The great debate of whether she should lift her head up or not kept her in place, lest she reveal a potentially not-so-graceful mess. “I think I ruined it.”

Wordlessly and only with a soft chuckle of amusement Aymeric rose to retrieve a handkerchief as if reading her mind in her current discomfort. When he returned Ahlis was already sitting up, the pillow still pressed to her face. He did not know how to assure her that there were far worse things that could ruin one’s bedding, but seeing the flushed look upon her face while she cleaned herself as discretely as possible encouraged him to say nothing.

“Are you feeling better?” Aymeric asked, once she seemed satisfied to show herself, the pillow and handkerchief no longer covering her face.

“Yes, thank you,” Ahlis spoke, relief entering her voice. “I am sorry, about this, though.” Her hands still held onto the pillow until he reached for it himself, lightly tossing it aside and back onto the bed.

“It is of no consequence. My home is yours, including the aforementioned pillow.”

That made Ahlis laugh, as he hoped it would, and Aymeric took this moment to join her again, sitting side by side upon the edge of the bed. It was useless however to ignore the wrappings around both her palms and forearms, both of which had been kept out of sight when lying on her stomach. Catching his glancing eyes, Ahlis took that moment to adjust her bandages.

“The pain is mostly gone. Now it’s just itching,” she spoke, more annoyed than in any sort of true discomfort. “New skin takes some getting used to and breaking in, imagine that.”

“May I see it?” Aymeric asked after a moment’s pause, his voice careful in its near-whisper like intensity.

For a second, she hesitated. Unraveling them didn’t hurt much anymore, so when she did reveal the newly healed burns that rested beneath she didn’t hold back in extending her arm in front of him. If only her heart that thumped heavily in her chest agreed! Nerves, however troublesome they proved to be, would do little in assuaging his concern.

“There you are,” Ahlis said with an exuberance she hoped sounded sure and confident. “It’s not so terrible now, aye?”

It was not her intent to fool him, rather, it was better than the ire she felt deep within at how it happened, and better still than to appear caught off-guard or foolish to have been struck at all by such an injury. It had been a mistake, one that could’ve gone even more horribly wrong in an instant if not for…

“Oh, Ahlis...”

Her thoughts stopped, everything stopped. She was helpless as she watched the shock that touched his eyes turn to despair, to pain that flowed into the tenderness that came with his touch as he cradled her wrist to his cheek. There was a knot of scarred tissue just below where his lips met her skin; the first kiss was given there, then another just above it towards her palm.

Such sensations, intensified against her freshly healed wounds, rendered her voice frozen within her throat. It was almost too much; she released a heavy, shaky breath that gave him pause, and Aymeric turned to look upon her so intensely, so painfully, she dared think she might cry herself.

“It’s fine,” she found herself saying, finally, unsure if it truly was after all.

---

Later, long after they had gone to bed, she would wake to see the stars out in the beyond just outside the window, the silhouette of spires cutting across the dark. A rare, clear night in the city. Gripped by the sight, she stole herself away to find a place to write...

Evenings have proven to be the best, and only time, to write clear-headed these days. As if I do not need sleep.

The itching has finally subsided enough to carry on without thinking about it and now I can finally sit for half a bell to write while at the same time not wishing to scratch my skin off. I’ve had lacerations, all manners of bruising and concussive injuries. I’ve even been shot at! But note to self: never get fucking burned like that again.

I’m going to kill that bastard with his own medicine, and I will enjoy it

[there is a drawing here of a figure in a robe with a sword skewering it all the way through, who is also on fire]

The healing has progressed as it will, and I trust Krile and Alphinaud’s hands more than any other—although granted my sourness over it all could have been a little less scathing, I guess.

But what can I say, a lot of bullshite has been happening these days. I’m getting a mite bit enraged that these Ascian arseholes aren’t leaving me alone, and yet I am not entirely surprised. It’s not over until it is over.

gods when will that be never ah ha ha ha

In the meantime I have made good on my own promises to make my own self comfortable as best I can, heal as best I am able, and spending what time I can in Ishgard. The others are probably wondering when I’ll return to the Stones but until G’raha outlines our approach on implementing proper protocol on the tempering solution I honestly don’t want to hear about anything else. Alisaie should be helping, I am sure, as is Alphinaud too I think. It’ll be fine! And fast too.

I mean I would help more too but I don’t have a crazy as all hells academic background as they do seven hells I’d love me a curriculum found in the Studium within those stupid halls and their even stupider “zero involvement” stance on bloody everything

share your goddamn science you twits

I am far more tired than I thought. But! I am also finally able to think about the impending reconnaissance we’re bound to have soon once Thancred and Urianger return.

if something happens with them I swear to ever loving shite I am going to boot them back to the First with my fist

Without my Stupid! Arms! Annoying me!

OH is that little

[the writing stops here with an ink blot, as if the pen was dropped and left there, the smeared and distinct shape of a cat’s paw crossing part of the page]

[deltas-writing-corner]

Warmth: Act 1 - 13

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Disclaimer: This is only the first 1000 words of the chapter. If you would like to read the rest, click here!

Warnings: none

Masterlist: (coming soon)

You stayed in bed the rest of the day. Mai and a few of the maids came in to check on you and express their joy at your awakening, but you couldn't reciprocate their sentiments as well as you would have liked to. Just as you start to think of a way to repay the girls for helping you out earlier, a muffled thud makes you spring out from underneath your covers to see what it was. It was only Ranmaru, who was kneeling down by your bed.

"Did I wake you?" he whispers.

"No," you answer, sitting yourself up and stretching out your stiff body real quick. "Don't keep me in suspense. Has he made up his mind?"

"He asked me to escort you to his quarters. I made sure to check the area for anything that would indicate a trap being set, but the place is clean. It seems he's willing to just talk with you."

“Good,” you sigh. That’s one matter less to worry over. “Thank you for double checking everything for me.”

He shakes his head and looks up at you with a soft smile. "It's no problem, my lady. This is the least I can do for you."

He helps you onto your feet and begins leading you by the hand. You make sure to keep your grip tight and follow his lead with precision. The last thing you want is to not only get caught out of your room, wide awake, but for him to get into trouble for helping you out. Thankfully, the two of you find yourself at the familiar manor in no time. He leads you to the back, where Mitsuhide's room is presumably at.

“He’s in there.” Ranmaru points towards a pair of doors. A flickering yellow hue finds its way through the miniscule crevices of the sliding doors, indicating that someone is present in the room. “Are you alright?” he suddenly asks you.

You hadn’t realized that your body began shaking, nor of the fact that your breathing has stopped entirely. You can feel each beat of your heart within the front of your head, down to the tips of your fingers and bare feet. Strangely enough, this midnight meeting is even more panic inducing than the skirmish you were brought out to. You had nothing to lose then, being immortal an all, unlike now.

Your very survival is on the line here. Kuro, your most trusted ally and brother, is gone. He isn’t here to squeeze your neck and reassure you in his typical blunt manner. He isn’t here to sink his teeth into the back of your hand and tell you to shut up and stop overthinking. At least back then, when the two of you were enemies, his lingering presence always reminded you that you were never alone. Even with Ranmaru standing right next to you, firmly holding and stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, you can’t help but feel so cold.

For the first time in 300 years, you feel so alone.

However, you are alone for a reason. Mitsuhide is alive for a reason. Kuro would have injected every ounce of his venom in him if he didn’t have faith in you. He sacrificed his body and held back because he believes you are capable of taking charge of the situation and turning it towards your advantage like you did many times before, in this life and the last.

He believes in you now, just as he did back then.

Your hand shoots up towards your face and you bite down on the back of your hand hard enough to draw a bit of blood. Ranmaru flinches at the sudden action, but he’s shocked completely still at the crazed, determined look in your eyes even within the blanket of darkness. A trail of saliva and blood stays connected to your lips when you pull back until you wipe it away with your sleeve. You take a breath in, hold it for a few seconds, and then release it out.

“Ranmaru,” your voice suddenly takes on a commanding tone despite it being hushed. “I need one more favor from you.”

He can see that you’re still scared shitless, but ready to face whatever it is that lies ahead of you once you open those doors. You have earned his respect and gratitude too many times to count. Somehow, you’ve earned it again despite having never lost it before.

He lets go of your hand and takes a full step back before lowering himself onto one knee and bowing his head to you. A symbol of his respect for you. “What do you need from me?”

“Go away.”

Your command, although simple, completely throws him off. Before he can question you or ask for further clarification, your hand finds its way under his chin and lifts his head up to look at you. You're looking at him as if nothing was ever wrong, like you weren’t freaking out just moments ago. His tongue swells up with uneasiness when you begin to pat and brush the top of his head like one would an innocent child.

“While I have every intention of making that white-haired rat kiss the very ground I step upon by the time the sun rises, I can’t take any more risks from here on out. In case things don’t go as planned, I need you as far away from here as possible.”

“I-It’s alright!” he frantically brushes off your concern. “No matter what happens tonight, I’ll stick by your side-”

“No,” you sternly cut him off. “I don’t want you anywhere near here, and that’s final.”

“But-”

Your hand returns to your side as you lower yourself down on your knees, down to his same level. Whatever argument he had left is silenced by your final plea. “Please, just go.” You pathetically say. “I can’t lose anyone else today.”

Your hands return to him again, this time running against the few bruises and scratches that litter neck from restraining Mitsuhide earlier. Ranmaru received these wounds whilst you were in limbo within your head. Mai and the other attendants came to your side and offered their help without hesitation despite having little to no combat training. The people around you have gone to such lengths for your sake. Such influence over them amazes you as much as it saddens you.

You will make good on the efforts everyone has given for you. But should you fail, the least you could do is ensure that no one else falls with you.

After a moment of silence, Ranmaru thankfully nods his head in understanding. You usher him away before standing up and facing the towering doors once again. It isn’t until you can no longer hear his silent footsteps that walk forward, grab onto the round handles, and pull the doors open. You’re immediately hit with warm air, a stark contrast from the chilly air from outside. Inside awaits the person you both despise and fear the most in this world, Mitsuhide Akechi.

He’s seated down by a low desk, nestled comfortably to the left side of the room. In his hands are a couple of papers that his eyes skim over, slowing down only when he happens upon something worth his full attention. When you step in and close the doors behind you, he pulls his amber irises away from his work to quickly acknowledge your arrival.

“Come in and make yourself comfortable,” he gestures towards the cushion positioned in front of his desk. “I won’t be long.”

You slowly make your way into the room. Ranmaru reassured you that their isn’t any traps or tricks set up for you, but you’d rather be safe than sorry. You lower yourself onto your offered seat and observe his room in the meantime. The first thing that catches your eyes is the small flintlock pistol almost conveniently on full display within the recessed wall. A delicate vase with a single stem of white flowers is set right next to it. Whether he meant to set it up in such a manner, you can't help but feel like you're being mocked by the weapon being so shamelessly displayed next to delicate and pure flowers.

You mentally slap yourself, or rather, you envision Kuro slapping you on the back of your head with his tail for letting yourself get worked up over essentially nothing. You move your vision away to the other side of the display; a hanging scroll and a piece of round ceramic or porcelain held up by a wooden stand. The scroll is of a painting of the moon, illuminating the same type of white, bell-like flowers as the ones in the vase. You look down to inspect the details of the fine china, but something suddenly tugs on your sleeve.

It's a fox. Its fluffy fur, as pure a white as a fresh blanket of snow. Its slanted eyes press together in satisfaction as it gnaws on your sleeve. You try to pull the damp fabric out from its mouth, but it growls and bites down into it like a vice.

"Hey now," you light-heartedly scold it. "This is mine."

It rapidly trashes its head side to side, silently telling you that no, your sleeve belongs to them now. You let your arm go limp to fake giving up to its advances, pleasing it greatly and causing its tail to rapidly sway back and forth. As soon as it lays down and relaxes, you swipe the fabric away and securely tuck it out of sight before it could bite on it again.

Mitsuhide gives a quick glance up to check out the commotion. Chimaki is snapping her jaw and burrowing her nose into your side. She's determined to get back whatever it is that you took from her that was likely never hers in the beginning. You aren't bothered by her persistence, much to his relief. The inhuman strength and soul quaking hisses of your companion before he beheaded him and the brief flash of serpent eyes from you. It was all still so fresh to his head, yet he's somehow managed to keep himself as calm as can be and called you to his room instead of outing you the moment he way away from you.

He thinks back to his conversation with Hideyoshi earlier in the day, the documents in his hands nearly rip as his grip suddenly tightens.

"It's been a week and she still hasn’t woken up! There’s no signs of improvement, but no worsening symptoms either. Even the other physicians can do nothing but check her pulse and breathing regularly. Yet even then, all of them note of a few moments where she stops breathing, but her heart keeps beating. Augh, this is so frustrating!”

With how concerned he looked and sounded, one would think it was Nobunaga that was injured and not the chatelaine. You are highly looked upon by Nobunaga, if the reports of his hellish attitude and looming presence during the duration of your initial treatment is to be believed. Surely, you are not held in the same regard as their shared lord. But in the eyes of Hideyoshi, your favoritism from the one he is most painstakingly loyal to places you on a pedestal just as high as the Devil King himself.

That was a major issue for Mitsuhide. He needed to kick that pedestal from right under your feet before you can even think about claiming the one slightly higher than your own. Normally, he would work within the shadows and resort to his usual dirty tactics. For you, someone clearly not human, and for the good of the people of Azuchi, he was willing to step into the light and ask for some assistance.

But before he can even dip his toe into the otherside, Hideyoshi says something that unknowingly halted him and forced him back into his dark corner.

"She better wake up soon. If not for Nobunaga-sama or Hisa-Obaasan's sake, then for Hayai's."

Hayai. How could Mitsuhide forget him? One day, you came running to Hideyoshi, holding what you believed to be an interesting looking rock. It was not a rock but instead a turtle shell, with said animal still inside and a bit frightened. It was one of many reasons (although silly) that pushed him to carry out his unauthorized excursion to Ise. How can anyone who is human not know what a turtle is?! How can any human not think it odd that someone doesn't know what a turtle is?!

It's because he trusts you. Hideyoshi trusts you enough to not question what is reasonably questionable and suspicious. He is not the only one who's heart you've coiled around. Nobunaga is so charmed with you that he would raise hell over your well-being in his own home and demand Ieyasu to return immediately, despite being out on an assignment by his own orders. Ranmaru and possibly every single female attendant in Azuchi not only trusts you and considers you like a sister, but they're fully aware of your secret and have no intention to sell you out.

It is because so many people support you that he felt necessary to swallow his now fixed tongue.

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[d-d-disgusting]

an-ordinary-roach​:

Oh fuck oh no no no! He’s actually gonna do it, they’re trying to actively kick away! They’re barely registering what’s being said to them at this point, Nat Bugs is so sure that he’s gonna bite off their whole hands. Gnaw them down to  the wrist, then eat their guts like before with no way to defend themselves.  They wanna snap his head off his shoulders with their inner mandibles, but they can’t-… No! The contract! The contract! “<S-Stop no no! D-don’t please- >” The more he loomed the more they shrunk, wanting to get small, small enough to make themselves disappear. Nothing’s getting through to these ears, not a thing, they just see a large imposing man grasping their arms tightly. Practically expecting someone else to come behind them with a cleaver to chop them up, which is probably why they kept looking over their right shoulder to make sure no one’s there. Their voice practically sobbing, shutting their eyes in hopes this was just a bad dream even if their proto-eyes are processing everything. And then Vincent’s body shifts and gets heavier, odd… They took the chance too peer over to see what’s happening to him. Just as they do, FLOP! Right ontop of them! Frozen, scared outta their mind about what, the, fuck just happened! Bugs was still, waiting for him to move again, both dreading if he’ll actually move or if died on the spot.  No no no they can’t wait that long-… Only a minute went by and the demon is struggling to get from under him, tossing him to the side to scramble themselves to their feet. Gods they feel sick, they feel so sick-… Rushing into the kitchen, placing their icher soaked hands on the metal’s ledge, and dry heaving into the sink, even if their body desperately  want to make itself lighter, but they can’t, there’s nothing for them to bring up. It just makes their stomach hurt more than it already is, all they can do is slump down to the floor and crawl in the cabinets. Need somewhere dark, out of sight and closed off to hide in, thankfully having no trouble having to do either. Bugs removed the tie from their hair and ruffled it out, grabbing handfuls of their locs as they sobbed silently. Trembling so bad it looks like they’ve been left out in the cold, trying to remedy it by pressing themselves up against the back of the wooden wall or face plant firmly into it, cursing to themselves to stop or they’ll get caught! They’ll be in there for a while, or hours- They can’t go back out here, not yet, not even with their intrusion’s offering to calm them down.

It’s hard to say how long he’s out for. He certainly has no idea of how long it is, but when he opens his eyes, everything is swimming. Outlines of shapes are barely visible, waving, breathing, moving in a way that makes depth perception impossible.  And there’s..crying? From somewhere distant.

Familiar hallucinations. He shifts, and- Augh.. FUCK. His head. His arms. His sides..?

Blindly, nervously, he reaches out, feeling along the floor for anything to ground himself and tell him where he is, and he lets out a shrill animal whine as he’s punished with a needle jamming itself into his palm. It’s yanked out and held tight as he lifts his head and turns to look around.

Light. His vision refocuses.

There’s a room there that’s lit. There’s still a sound coming from there, it..

   It isn’t them. Even small and anxious as they’d been in this strange human form, there’s nothing he’s known about this demon so far to indicate that they would be found hiding and weeping.

A moment of pure panic strikes him as he realizes this might be some victim of theirs. If they can’t kill or feed from others, is there anything stopping them from stockpiling future victims for when they can? Or for living experiments, turning them into whatever these constructs are.?

That thought drives him forward, crawling into the kitchen on his three good limbs. His voice is kept as kind as he can manage, but hushed, unsure of what he should do, who is around or where.. Disoriented, still. “H-hello? Are--?”    There are bloodied handprints. There’s blood against the sink and cabinets, that’s where someone is hiding. Like they’d been chased. His heart aches. When did this happen? He needs to get them out of here. NOW. “Do you-nneed help?” If he doesn’t get an answer immediately, he’s prying the door open and dragging whoever with him back outside.

The door had been just back there..

          Right?

[theredwallrecorder]

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) pt 3 - SHOWSTOPPER

*walks up to the mic in a completely silent auditorium*

*clears throat loudly, opens mouth*

[this is what comes out of my gaping mouth]

( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°)

I’m not gonna lie, I love Martin and company with a fiery passion, but sweet Redwall strawberries if I haven’t been waiting for this part since the beginning of this ridiculous fic. Our heroes have had their time in the limelight, and now to introduce the real showstoppers. We’re goin full anime up in here, and by “full anime” I mean “you about to be smothered in copious bromance and awesome combat”. From this point on, fic parts will focus on individual duels, but it’ll all get tied together in the end. @thegoldensoundtwice not a day goes by that I don’t blow a kiss in your general direction for riding this crazy train with me. Thank you for lettin’ me borrow your daughter ;3

Please enjoy Redwall Hell: The Anime pt 3, in which Martin and company are redirected to a new waypoint, and Vulpuz pretty much loses it. How are we supposed to hold all his pent-up anger and frustration? No clue, but I’m willing to bet that she would know the answer to that one. *wink* Also, if anyone’s curious, the top two photos at this link depict what she’s wearing upon her arrival, courtesy of @raphcrow. Thanks for the ref material, bae, and more besides. <3

A quick note on wounds/injuries in Redwall Hell: I’m working off the headcanon that you can sustain injuries in Hellgates. The visible ones (cuts, bruises, etc) leave behind a wound that glows with a soft light. I imagine this plays into the “yes, you are actually in purgatory” atmosphere. However, you do not actively bleed in Hellgates. I mean... you’re already dead, lol. You can’t die twice... right?

If there’s a part 3, that means there’s a part 1 and a part 2. Have at ‘em.

Oh, and here are some jams for your listening pleasure: /SHOWSTOPPER/, /LAST REMOTE/, /THROWDOWN/, /THIS TOWN, YOUR GRAVE/, /NOVOCAINE/, /DRUMMING SONG/, /DARK HORSE/, /GIRL/

Let’s rave.

- - - - - -

Martin and Laterose blinked. The quarry, the sea, the makeshift throne and all of the northeastern shore by Marshank was utterly gone, as if somebeast had taken an old rag and wiped them from existence. The scene from ages past had been replaced by the familiar veined brimstone and eerie reddish glow of the desolate landscape of Hellgates. They were standing in a small clearing, edged on three sides with a low wall constructed of mismatched obsidian boulders. Myriad chunks of brimstone littered the area. Warily, Martin abandoned his offensive charge, the point of his sword still trained forwards. The sounds of indiscriminate shuffling prompted him to look back over his shoulder.

Rose had stopped swinging her sling. She was kneeling alongside Dinny and Grumm, helping the two dazed moles to come back to their senses. Several feet behind them, Gonff sat up, patting himself down to make sure he was still in one piece. His face was the very picture of awed surprise and confusion, but when he locked eyes with Martin, the irrepressible mousethief burst out laughing.

“Hahaha! We’re alive!” he cried, leaping to his footpaws. Hardly able to contain his joy, Gonff cartwheeled over to where Felldoh still lay in a baffled heap, the warrior squirrel’s intact spear laying across his chest. Still laughing, Gonff snatched up the spear and offered Felldoh a paw. “Up y’come, matey!”

Felldoh groaned as Gonff helped him up off the ground. “Ooh, that’s a sore spot for sure. Would anybeast be able to explain what exactly just—”

He froze mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open. In their midst a vixen had suddenly materialized, a dark gossamer cloak swirling slightly about her. She stood, tall and stern, her unwavering gaze fixed not on any of the company, but upon the disturbed visage of the Great Vulpuz. The ruler of Hellgates was crouching close to the ground a few yards away, his jaw working spasmodically, his eyes fixed on the cloaked vixen. Without moving a single muscle, she spoke to the woodlanders gathered around her, her tone low and urgent.

“You have done well to come so far. Now, you must abandon this fight. Follow my lantern. It will lead you to the one who does not belong here.”

In that moment the six friends became aware of the presence of a gentle glow, softer and more substantial than the unnatural light of Hellgates. The light emanated from an elegant paper lantern affixed to a delicate pole of bamboo wood, which had appeared in the air next to Gonff. The lantern swayed gently back and forth in an unseen wind, its pole hovering several feet off the ground. The aft end of the pole rotated slowly upwards, the artfully carved handle coming to rest against the back of one of Gonff’s paws, as if the lantern was offering itself up to be held.

The mousethief hesitated, his brow creased with doubt. He glanced up at Martin. The warrior mouse’s mouth was set in a grim line, and he was watching the newly-arrived vixen intently. The thought of the group being confronted by another deadly trap flitted briefly through Gonff’s mind.

“It’s all right, Gonff,” Rose broke through the mousethief’s reverie. “This is the one who has been guiding us with her voice, the Lady of Hellgates.”

“Burr aye, take oop ee loight, zurr Gonffen,” Grumm encouraged.

Bolstered by his friends’ confidence, Gonff reached out to grasp the Lady’s lantern. The bamboo pole seemed to thrum with an energy all its own, causing a tingling sensation in his paw. He eyed the lantern curiously as it bobbed to and fro.

“How will this tell us where to go? Should I… ask it?” He gestured to the lantern with his free paw. “Will you show us the way?”

Without warning the lantern and its pole bucked so fiercely, Gonff was forced to take hold of it with both paws. The animated lamp seemed to gather itself before executing an enormous leap, effectively dragging Gonff across the clearing. “This waaay, maaaaaaaates!” he managed to holler back at the company before the lantern tugged him over the crest of a low hill and out of sight.

Loth to abandon what he knew to be a brewing conflict, Martin hovered betwixt uncertainty and his warrior instincts. It was not in his nature to leave another to fight his battles for him, especially one so mysterious as the Lady of Hellgates.  

“Go.”

The Lady’s spellbinding voice shattered Martin’s spirit of indecision. For the first time she tore her gaze from Vulpuz, a vague smile of admiration playing about her lips as she beheld the warrior mouse with her bright, piercing eyes.

“Your heart has courage, but you know not whom you face,” she cautioned. “You must be swift, warrior! The tenderhearted one called Blaggut needs you!”

The mention of a creature in need reminded Martin of the task at hand. He nodded to the rest of the company, and the five friends tore off across the clearing after Gonff, disappearing together over the distant knoll. The Lady breathed a visible sigh of relief as she felt the presences of the woodlanders grow faint.

Meanwhile, Vulpuz, ruler of Hellgates, had abandoned himself to a temper tantrum. At some point during the exchange between the Lady and Martin’s group, he had thrown himself upon the ground to writhe piteously in the dust, scoring deep scratches in the earth with his claws. At intervals he would throw up his head to snarl at the sky, tearing great tufts of white fur out of his tail as he did so. Ravenously he gnawed upon the boulders around him, crushing broken pieces of the fiery brimstone between his powerful jaws. He eventually succumbed to rapidly dragging his paws down his face in a repetitive, anxious blur of motion, all the while hurling accusations, entreaties, and insults at the Lady.

“How could you? How could you?!” he screeched, his voice rising to a fever pitch. “I had them! Do you know how many eons of insufferable boredom I could have blissfully passed through with those imbeciles as my pets?” Vulpuz’s eyes bulged, the veins in his neck pulsating as he gave full vent to his rage. “Curse you, foul and deranged vixen! How could you take this from me?! This was to be my moment of ultimate triumph, the pivotal instance where I, the Great Vulpuz, would steal the very crown of Dark Forest right from under the dripping snouts of those idiotic woodlanders! Why? Why?! What in my name have I ever done to you to deserve this sort of treatment?” The Great Vulpuz scrambled onto his footpaws with erratic urgency. He paused briefly, his chest heaving from the exertion of his outburst.

“I… I have to do something about you. I must do something about you!” Vulpuz’s upper lip curled into a snarl, flecks of spittle falling from his chin. “I… I know you will interfere again… if given the chance.”

The Lady placed one paw on her hip, regarding Vulpuz with mild amusement. “There,” she cooed at him. “You’ve spoken your piece. Tell me, how does the Great Vulpuz feel now?”

The white fox’s entire body shook, and he bent forward at the waist. “Ooooooh, I feel so betrayed,” Vulpuz wailed, his voice almost a sob. He continued to speak aloud to nobeast in particular, his gestures wild and distracted. “How could she do this to me? Me, the ruler of Hellgates? When I knew she had come, I rejoiced, thinking she would join me in my revelry… but, no.” He scuffed at the ground with a vicious kick. “No, no, NO! She protected those miscreants! Hellsteeth! Just thinking about it makes me want to tear myself limb from bloody limb! Augh! And the smell! How noxious and revolting the stench of Dark Forest that clung to their miserable bodies like fine mail!”

A full minute of complete silence elapsed, in which Vulpuz remained hunched over and panting, the inner flames of his fury stoking themselves into an untamable wildfire. Slowly he raised his head, locking eyes with the sole object of his hatred, and in his gaze was the pale light of a cruelty so chilling the Lady flicked one ear in acknowledgement of it.

“I feel… rage.” Vulpuz’s voice had grown deathly quiet. “Rage at the one who took what was mine by right of conquest. How deeply I long to thrash her beyond recompense, to tear out her eyes and commit them to the infernal winds, to defile her adulterous establishment, to completely and utterly…”

He smiled at her.

“… Devour you.”

The reddish light of Hellgates slowly dimmed until the Lady found herself surrounded by complete darkness. Though Vulpuz was unaware of it, she could still see him, his knack for warping appearances having no effect on her. He was laughing now, echoes of maniacal glee ringing about the stone-rimmed clearing.

“I’ve had enough of your kittish antics, vixen,” he admonished. “I will let the stroke of my chisel of anger fall upon you. Haha, finally! You will give me what I desire, and if not, I shall carve it from you by force.”

Four distinct presences manifested themselves to the Lady in the same moment, catching her off guard. Before she could react she was confronted by a heavy whooshing sound, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a great iron war club come barreling down towards her. In an instant there was an answering flash of drawn steel, and Willow Slay stood alongside the Lady, her flawless curved blade effortlessly parrying the fatal strike.

The Lady blinked. “Willow Slay, what in Hellgates are you—!”

The chef of Redwall Hell’s nightclub unceremoniously interrupted her. “My Lady, on your right!”

Out of the darkness snaked a cruel thonged whip, the metal barbs lashed to its ends seeking to tear gaping holes in the Lady’s flesh. Suddenly, the whip caught on an obstruction in its flight path. Nivedita did not even wince as the biting thongs wrapped themselves around her upraised arm. She snarled into the shadows, dislodging the projectiles from her wrist and forearm with a disdainful shake.

“My Lady, are you hurt?” Nivedita turned slightly to catch the eyes of her mistress, the glow from her wounds highlighting the contours of concern etched into her face.

“Well, no,” the Lady blustered, “I am fine… but, you both, I…”

Willow laughed out loud as she deftly tossed her blade to her off paw in order to summon forth a pair of throwing knives. “My Lady, I know you didn’t really expect us to remain at the nightclub while you went off to tango with the old fox. Damn well inconsiderate of you— erm, pardon the language.

“That is, we’d like to tango too, if it’s all right with you,” Nivedita finished sheepishly.

The Lady observed both her steward and chef with wonder. The unlikely pair were peering into the darkness around them, every muscle poised to defend. Very little surprised the Lady, but the loyalties of her most beloved children never ceased to prompt within her a spirit of humble gratitude. She bowed her head before glancing up in Vulpuz’s direction, a tacit gesture of submission.

“I… consider myself thoroughly chastised,” she exhaled, the slightest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Forgive me, Nivedita, Willow, for attempting to deprive you of this honor your both rightfully covet.”

The chef and the steward seemed to swell with pride. Boldly they faced the darkness before them, fearing neither creature nor fate.

“Think nothing of it, my Lady,” declared Willow. She directed her knives to circle in the air above her free paw, the tip of her sword flicking up and down in sync with their rotation. “These blades are yours to command!”

“Yes!” Hope danced in Nivedita’s eyes as she adopted what she thought to be a cool and aggressive combat stance. “Let us fight with you!”

“Shut up, shut up!” Vulpuz roared from his hiding place in the shadows. “How dare you show your faces here, you worthless serfs! I will have nothing to do with you. Amuse yourselves with my right and left paws whilst I entertain your mistress!”

“Ha! Suits me!” Willow Slay scoffed. “I’ll tan any hide what shows its miserable self here! Prepare yourself to receive me, clubface!” Without another word the courageous mink threw herself into the darkness, leading with her blades.

Nivedita’s kind features were set with determination. “For you, my Lady,” she intoned, stepping forth to allow the shadows to swallow her up as well.

The Lady breathed deeply, her all-knowing gaze effortlessly piercing the darkness. She locked eyes with the infuriated ruler of Hellgates and gracefully held out an open paw.

“I am ready, Vulpuz.”