#i'm sorry i get the point behind that one post but it targets the wrong people and it's driving me crazy
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
"omggg why do I keep learning about major world events through the destiel meme 😂" that's because you spend several hours a day on social media but only check the news once or twice, so you're statistically much more likely to be on social media when major events happen
"omg WHY isn't anyone talking about this??!!" That one is because you don't read the news, hope this helps
112 notes
·
View notes
Note
I love your writings sm. And I love the way you write platonic stuff with task force 141 😋
You can ignore this if ya want but I just can't get over reader angst. Honestly atp I starve for angst. Could you feed us another angst fic? Like platonic 141 with a reader where she maybe got pretty badly injured while being on a mission? :3
AND. don't forget to stay hydrated and eat well!! Take any breaks you need 😌.
(sorry if this doesn't make sense English is not my native language 🥲)
below zero — python333
— — — —
synopsis u get thrown into a freezer after refusing to give up intel to enemy soldiers, and u get thrown into a freezer, and ghost comes and saves u :3
relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.
characters ghost.
word count 5.2k
warnings hypothermia, disorientation, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].
note hi anon thank u so much for all the compliments!!! before i say anything else, i wanna point out that i 1) only really wrote ghost into this and 2) literally read the request completely wrong and i think im actually just illiterate because how did i mess up this bad. ALSO hi its been a month since i posted on here i swear i'm still alive i'm just super busy with school!! updates are going to be extremely slow, so i apologize in advance. still, i hope u enjoy it anyways tho!! its all hurt/comfort + angst/fluff + protective/soft ghost :3
When you were thrown into the freezer, the first thing you noticed were the bodies.
There’s ten that you can immediately see, and twelve once you look a little bit closer. All of them are suspended from the ceiling, each hanging from their ankle—with said ankle being held up by a meat hook.
When the door had been closed shut with a loud, booming thump you hadn’t felt any immediate fear. But now, as you’re sitting in the corner of the freezer you’d been trapped in—the corner farthest away from any bodies—that fear is starting to set in.
Before this, only a few minutes ago, you were being interrogated. Your captors were asking for information on the details of any upcoming missions, objectives, target locations, anything that you had about the 141 that you could share with them, they wanted.
Of course, you didn’t say anything. You remained silent throughout the entire thing, not talking once, even when at the end of the whole thing your interrogator slammed his hand down onto the table you were sat down in front of and yelled at you to say anything.
When he and his team figured out that you wouldn’t give them any information, you remember he muttered something unintelligible under his breath and swiftly walked over to your end of the table. He had uncuffed your ankles from the legs of the chair you were sitting down on and uncuffed your wrists from the table, and before you could fight back, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and dragged you behind him.
Then, he led you to the freezer you were trapped in now, and threw you in roughly before shutting the door behind you. You had hit and scratched at the door for a good minute after being thrown in, and after you figured that it was a waste of time trying to do so, you sighed and retired to the corner.
Now, as you’re huddled in the corner, you kind of regret not giving them the intel they needed.
The freezer wasn’t too bad at first—you thought you’d last pretty long in there, and mentally called all the dead bodies hung from meat hooks in there pussies and simply walked around for a bit. The walking helped warm you up a bit, but soon it got tiring, and you retired to the corner farthest away from any dead bodies.
You think the freezer is below zero degrees—no, has to be below zero, because now, just about five minutes after being thrown in, violent shivers have started to wrack your body and you swear you can’t feel your lips anymore. You haven’t been able to feel any sort of warmth in the past four minutes, all of it disappearing within the first.
And God, the smell. The smell of frozen, rotting flesh really isn’t something you ever want to smell again. Thankfully, there’s no live flies in the freezer—all of them had died of the severe cold, creating small black circles under each hanging body where they died.
You currently have your knees up to your chest with your hands trapped in between your thighs to try and keep them warm at least, with your forehead resting on the top of one of your knees. It’s working, kind of. The palms and backs of your hands feel just warm enough to not be considered cold, but the tips of your fingers are so cold they’re beginning to burn.
You pull them back a bit to trap your fingertips in between your thighs, exposing the area where your wrist and hand meet to the cold, sighing as your fingertips warm up just a bit. Your thighs, thankfully, still have some heat trapped in between them, and you think your stomach is still somewhat warm.
Around ten minutes later, you feel the heat trapped in your thighs start to dissipate. Fucking fantastic. You sigh and let your head tilt back, the back of it hitting the wall behind you, making you wince at the cold metal directly on your head. The cold seems to crawl through your hair and make it to your scalp, small pinpricks of the cold spreading throughout your scalp and the back of your neck.
You’re reminded of just how cold it is then, of how this is quite literally a freezer, and of how said freezer has already claimed twelve lives. Or, at least, has housed twelve dead bodies and several unfortunate flies.
Just then, the fear finally starts to set in.
At first, you weren’t all too worried about being saved—you figured you’d be found soon enough, since your team has a general idea of where you are. But the more you think about it, the more your brain emphasizes the general part of general idea. You start to think about how they don’t know any specifics.
Sure, they know that you were captured, and that you were being held in some small part of Italy, and the people who captured you—but what did they know beyond that? Did they know your exact location? How long would it take them to figure it out? And how long would it take them to get here?
Would you even be alive by the time they got here, if they ever did?
You notice your teeth starting to make an annoying chattering noise and you bite down to stop them. The violent shivers that wrack your body don’t help, the intense trembling only succeeding in making you more anxious. You start to become hyper aware of the cold that crawls onto your back from the freezing metal you’re leaning back on, and you quickly push yourself just a foot away from it so that it no longer bothers you.
Your feet are starting to feel numb, you don’t think you’d be able to stand on them anymore if you tried, for you fear you’d just stumble and fall down. You look around the small freezer. There’s nothing that could help you get out—there’s only the bodies suspended from the ceiling and the dead flies that surround them.
You’re glad none of the bodies are facing you—you don’t know what you would do if you had to sit in the corner with a bunch of dead bodies staring at you with their vacant, frozen-over eyes. Thinking about the eyes makes your own water, and you blink away the small tears that’ve gathered on your waterline.
You can’t feel them, but you see the tears that were once in your eyes now clumping together on your eyelashes, making your brows furrow. With them starting to cling to your eyelashes comes blurriness for the top half of whatever you can see. You sigh, a white puff of condensation hanging in the air as evidence of your exhale, and move your hand out from in between your thighs to wipe away the tears from your lashes haphazardly.
You don’t bother to put your hand back in between your thighs, instead just resting it on top of your knee. Despite it only having been around fifteen minutes since you were thrown into the freezer, you’re starting to feel more fatigued and your breath slows down significantly, as does your heartbeat.
Another ten minutes of doing nothing but staring at the wall opposite of your own pass by, and disorientation is starting to set in. You feel oddly forgetful—like at times, you forget how you even got into the freezer, and have to wrack your brain to remember that you literally got thrown into it and are now trapped in here until someone rescues you. Assuming they do. Who was it that would even rescue you?
You think long and hard for a few seconds, and can scrounge up nothing from your confused mind. You let out a frustrated huff and let your head tilt and fall forward so that your forehead is resting atop your knee, another shiver ripping through your frame. It almost feels like it’s getting colder in the fridge.
Suddenly, you hear a loud banging noise—albeit, it sounded more muffled to your ears, but you could tell it was loud—and guns being fired.
You can’t really tell when the gunfire dies down, but you can tell when the thumping of someone’s boots grows louder and closer to the door of the freezer. You try to stand up, not really knowing why since you’re in no condition to fight, having been in a freezer for about forty minutes, but you still attempt to.
You find that standing is extremely difficult after practically being frozen alive for the past forty minutes, because as soon as you try to even push yourself off of the ground with your shaky hands, you discover that you aren’t even strong enough to push yourself up a single inch before having to stop. As well as that, you find that the ground is just as freezing as the walls and air of the freezer, because your hands now ached with frostbite.
The action causes an unexpected wave of exhaustion to roll over you, and you pant to try and catch your breath, breathing white puffs of condensation out into the air.
You hear a loud bang against the door, and jump at the sound, your head whipping towards the door. You hear another loud noise, and the confused fog that’s taken over your mind only grows thicker, your disorientation only growing stronger with it. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the feeling reminds you of a word, and you know what the word is, but fuck, why don’t you know it at the same time? Why can’t I remember anything?
There’s another bang, and you hear muffled cursing before suddenly the door bursts open, a man wearing a skull mask stumbling in after it does so—he probably ran into it to open it, you think, watching the man get his balance back. He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on you, and the moment they do, you finally remember something.
That’s Ghost.
Somewhere in your confusion-clouded mind, you’re happy that you’ve finally remembered something. But right now, you can’t really think about anything—your mind is blank, and you can barely even process what you’re seeing.
You’re so caught up in thinking about the fact that you aren’t really thinking, you’re just focusing a little more on whatever’s going on in your mind and not actually retaining any of it, that you don’t even notice Ghost rushing towards you and kneeling down right next to you.
He pauses for a moment, but after a second he makes the decision to put one hand behind your back and snake one under your legs, the warm physical touch making you wince. Not that you didn’t like the warmth—you just didn’t like the sudden temperature change beneath your knees and across your back.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Ghost grunts as he picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you up into a sort of bridal carry. He nearly drops you because of how cold your skin is—for a moment he thinks your back and legs are wet, then he realizes that no, they aren’t wet, you’re just really fucking cold.
He takes a moment to make sure you’re secure in his arms before tilting his head to the side, all the way down to his shoulder, and muttering something into his earpiece. Despite being so close to him, his voice only sounds muffled to you—in all honesty, just about everything is starting to sound more muffled to you. You can only tell he’s done talking because he lifts his head back up and readjusts his arms around you, before walking out the busted-open door.
The walking quickly turns into running, which then turns into sprinting, making your surroundings go blurry and makes your vertigo worse—it almost feels like you’re falling. You’re grateful you haven’t eaten anything in the past few hours, because you fear that if you had, you would’ve thrown it all up by now. All you can see are blurred colors—the hallways, you vaguely remember, because I’m in a building. How’d I even get here? Why am I here? You’re pulled out of your confused thoughts when you’re set down on the ground somewhere, and forced into a lying position with your limbs all outstretched. When you slowly blink up at what you thought was the ceiling, you’re both surprised and not surprised when you see the blue-black night sky.
Not sure of what’s going on, you try to get up, but Ghost quickly pushes you back down, muttering something under his breath. He pauses for a moment, his blurred figure stopping any and all movements, before he suddenly picks you back up, making you wince at the way your head spins at the sudden movement. You hear a quiet, muffled—but clearer than before—’sorry’ from Ghost before he’s running again.
It’s a much shorter distance this time, and instead of immediately setting you down, you hear something click and suddenly you hear another muffled voice. They sound concerned, you mentally note, Or maybe confused. Maybe both, actually. No yeah, definitely both. Well, now just concerned. Or maybe that’s confused.
Caught up in your confused thoughts, you don’t realize that you’re being set down on a few comfy seats. You aren’t pulled away from your own thoughts until you feel two warm hands cupping either side of your jaw, and hear Ghost’s oddly distressed voice becoming more clear by the second. You now acknowledge the weird ringing in your ears that almost drown out the sound of Ghost, and struggle to figure out what he’s saying through the annoying noise.
“—something,” You catch the end of Ghost’s sentence, and blink up at him slowly.
“Huh?” You elegantly ask, coughing and wincing at your hoarse voice, not knowing how it got so hoarse—or why it hurt so much to talk. Your throat almost felt like it was burning, but it also felt oddly numb, a sensation you couldn’t quite put a name on.
“Oh my god,” Ghost sighs, his forehead falling onto your chest momentarily as he takes a few deep breaths. He brings his head back up from your chest and says, “I almost thought you were dead when I got in there. Jesus, you look dead. I need to— I need to get something, a blanket or— why the fuck don’t we carry any heat packs or anything in here? Swear to God, I’m gonna—” You don’t pay too much attention to Ghost’s panicked ranting and shift your head to the side to try and look at where you are, and you discover that you’re in a car. Oh. Cool. You spot the door on the passenger seat’s side still open and swinging a bit, as if it’d been opened quickly just a few moments earlier for someone to quickly get out.
Ghost suddenly backs up and gets out of the car, though staying within a foot of it, looking around for a moment before heading to the back of the car. Your head clears up the tiniest bit, just enough for you to be able to assume that he’s heading to the back of the car to get to the trunk for whatever reason, and you simply lie there on the seat cushions.
A few seconds later, Ghost comes back with a somewhat-fluffy jacket, and carefully gets into the car—half kneeling down so that he doesn’t need to lean on the seats to get to you. He tosses the coat over your chest, and it does absolutely nothing at first, at least not until Ghost gets a bit closer and tucks the coat tighter around you, treating it like a blanket. Then, it starts to warm you up just the tiniest bit. Beyond that, it does absolutely nothing. But props to Ghost for at least trying.
He quickly backs out of the car and once he’s out he closes the door behind him, and you want to get up for a moment, just to go see what he’s doing, but you don’t have to. He gets into the car again, this time in the driver’s seat, and he turns on the ignition. Once the car rumbles to life, he immediately turns up the heat and leans over to the passenger seat’s side in order to close the door, and with a grunt he manages to do so.
The newfound heat makes you shiver, and it almost feels like you’re in a microwave defrosting. Distracted by the sudden temperature change, you don’t pay attention to what Ghost is saying into his earpiece as he glances out the front window of the car and back at you. You simply tug the jacket tighter around your torso and relish in the warmth.
“—ay. So we’ll just leave then, and you’ll be fine?” You pick up from Ghost’s conversation, perking up at the mention of leaving, “Copy that, Captain. I’ll get them back to base.”
‘Captain’—Oh, he’s talking to Price—says something that makes Ghost sigh exasperatedly and take his index finger off of his earpiece, instead settling both of his hands on the steering wheel of the car and stealing one last glance at you before setting his eyes on the gravel ahead of him and pushing down on the gas pedal.
—
When you wake up, you’re significantly warmer than you were… however-long-it’s-been-ago.
You look to your left and see nothing but a white wall and a heart rate monitor—which displays that your heart rate is 115—then to your right, where you see Ghost sitting in a plastic chair close to the bed you’re laying in, eyes closed with his head tilted to the side and resting on his own shoulder.
You don’t bother trying to wake him up, not knowing how long he’s been asleep or how much sleep he’s gotten, and instead simply turn your head back to stare up at the ceiling.
After maybe five minutes of zoning out and staring up at the ceiling, you hear clothes rustling and look back over to your right, seeing Ghost start to stir in his sleep. Just a few seconds later, he stirs awake, slowly blinking his eyes open.
You watch silently as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, and he breathes in sharply through his nose before looking over at you and seeing you staring at him wordlessly. You both blink at each other for a long, awkward moment before he speaks.
“… Did you, uh… how was your… rest?” Ghost asks, not sure what to say. What exactly do you say, after saving one of your teammates from potential death?
“Good,” You respond, your throat having an odd, small burning sensation when you talk.
Ghost looks like he’s holding back a few words for a moment after you speak, and after one expectant look from you, he mumbles, “You should really say ‘well’ or ‘fine’ instead. It’d be more grammatically accurate and is more grammatically aligned with the verb ‘rest’.”
“… Okay?” You blink, thrown off by the unexpected information, “I’ll, uh… keep that in mind, next time someone asks me how my rest was.”
“You get asked that often?”
“I only get asked that by you.”
“Ah.” Ghost nods, looking off to the side for a moment. You’d think he was your dad and you’d just asked him how babies were made with how awkward he was, and you honestly expected the next words out of his mouth to be ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ before he hesitantly asks, “D’you feel better? After the whole being-trapped-in-a-freezer… experience?”
“Experience?” You question, a light laugh evident in your voice, “Yeah, I feel better. I like being warm more than, y’know, being frozen alive. Laying down in a warm bed is nice.”
“I didn’t know how else to phrase it,” Ghost huffs out, leaning back in his seat.
“So you’re gonna correct me on my grammar but you can’t think of a better word than ‘experience’?”
“Don’t get smart with me, [c/n].”
“I’m just saying,” You shrug lightly, wincing a little when your shoulders ache as you do. Ghost notices this and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t mention it.
“Then stop trying to sass me.”
“Sass you? Jesus, fuck, don’t talk to me like I’m some preteen who just found out that they can talk back to their parents.”
“Isn’t that what you are, though?”
“No, I’m— you know what? Fuck you. Get out. I hate you. You suck.”
“That’s a colorful choice of words to say to the man who saved your life,” Ghost raises an eyebrow at you, “I’m still waiting for my ‘thank you’, by the way.”
“Don’t care, you’re never getting it,” You say stubbornly, making Ghost sigh and stand up. You look up at him as he stands up and try to sit up in your bed, but wince again when you try to move your arms. Still, you attempt to push yourself up, and only relax your weak joints and lay back down when Ghost presses a gentle hand to your shoulder to get you to stop trying to sit up.
“Don’t,” He warns softly—you didn’t know his voice could get that soft—as he pushes you back down, “Medics said you’re to keep laying down for a bit while you warm up. We’ve gotta wait until your BPM is below a hundred before letting you up.”
“That’s stupid,” You huff out, though not fighting Ghost pushing you back down.
“It’s not stupid,” Ghost lightly chastises you, “It’s doctor’s orders. Once your BPM is below a hundred, we’ll know you’re warmed up enough to start gettin’ up and walking around.”
“… Still stupid,” You grumble, not commenting on the way Ghost’s hand lingers on your shoulder even after you’ve already laid back down. Ghost sighs and kneels down so that his shoulders are level with the railing of your bed.
“You’re too stubborn.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are.”
“No I’m not!” Your light arguing only proves Ghost’s point further, and he knows this, the knowledge of it making him snicker quietly.
“Uh huh. Sure, kid,” He begins to retract his hand from your shoulder, but upon seeing the disappointment that immediately seeps into your expression once he even barely begins to lift his hand from your shoulder, he immediately lets it rest right back onto your shoulder.
You both sit in silence for another few moments before Ghost speaks up again, this time a bit quieter and in that same soft tone he’d used earlier, “I tried to get to you quicker. But we needed some time to get your exact location, and when we found it we were a hundred and sixty klicks away, and it was just—it took us… some time to find you.”
“It’s fine. I understand,” You respond, about to shrug but stopping yourself, not wanting to feel that aching in your shoulders again, “I don’t even know how I let myself get captured, that— that’s probably on me.”
“You didn’t let yourself get captured, you just did.”
“Well…”
“Well, what?”
“I don’t know, I just—” You take a deep breath before continuing slowly, “I didn’t let myself get captured, but I also didn’t do enough to fight against it, so I feel like technically—”
“Fuck the technicalities about how you got captured, you got captured either way, and you got thrown into a freezer,” Ghost cuts you off, talking quickly, before sighing and continuing in a softer voice once again, “Please, just let me try to be somewhat comforting for once. You know I’m bad at this, and that I never do this. So just… don’t talk about what happened like that, if not for your own mental health’s sake, at least for my attempts at making you feel better.”
You open your mouth to say something else but ultimately close your mouth and let out a deep sigh through your nose, not saying anything, letting Ghost continue to talk.
“I, for whatever reason, feel… very oddly bad for you,” Ghost poorly explains, before pausing to think for a moment then rephrasing, “Not… not as in I pity you, but as in I feel bad for you in a way that I feel like I’m at fault for what you went through even though I know I’m not at fault. It’s like empathy but… worse. Not saying empathy is bad to begin with, but this is like if empathy was bad and it became worse and—”
Ghost cuts himself off with silence and lets out a frustrated huff at his inability to put his feelings into words, and tries again, “I feel bad for you in a way that I don’t know what exactly you felt or how you felt in the moment that you were in that freezer but just the idea of you being in there without me for… I’m assuming an entire hour, if not longer, makes me feel like I failed. I don’t know what I failed at—”
Ghost quickly pauses before sighing and continuing, “Actually, no, I do. I feel like I failed at protecting you. Which is strange, because that’s technically not my job, but I felt—and still feel—obligated to protect you especially and that bothers me. Not bothers me in a sense that I don’t like you or the thought of… protecting you, but bothers me in the sense that I’m not supposed to feel like that. No amount of teasing, or borderline bullying, or anything should’ve ever made me feel obligated to think of you like�� like— like…” Ghost trails off, leaving you wondering what he meant to say. He stays silent for a few moments, before you try to fill in for him.
“Like… what, a kid?” You offer, watching him shake his head negatively. You think for another moment, before trying again, “… Like your kid?”
Ghost nods affirmatively, hesitantly, and you want to scoff at the hesitation.
“And what, that’s bad to you?” You ask, your words more venomous than you intended. Ghost sighs and nonverbally shakes his head negatively before responding to you.
“Not bad in the way you’re thinking,” He answers, before elaborating upon seeing your confused expression, “It’s bad not because you’re bad, it’s bad because I’m bad.”
“… No you’re not?”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re really not,” You insist stubbornly.
“Please don’t be stubborn with me on this,” His tone makes it sound like he’s almost begging you, which is… somehow beyond terrifying to think about.
“I’m not being stubborn, I’m being honest, you’re really not.”
“But I am,” He sounds like he’s trying to make his tone sound like there’s no room for any further arguments, but he fails, and you continue to argue with him.
“No you’re not!” The whole conversation feels like a parallel to the one you’d both been having just a few minutes earlier, except this time you’re not giving up as easily, “How are you bad?”
“I’m—” Ghost pauses for a moment, not having expected that argument, and he weakly argues, “I just am!”
“You’re not, and you fucking know it!”
“Okay, well—” Ghost sighs and looks away from you, “You might not think so. That’s fine. But I know I am. If not for anything else, for you. I’d be… terrible as any sort of… I don’t know, role model to you.”
“Jokes on you, you’re already a role model to me.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “You aren’t a terrible role model. A little emo, sure, but not terrible.”
“I’m emotionally and mentally unstable, and am terrible with empathy. I’m blunt, abrasive more than half the time, and I tell the shittiest jokes known to man. I can’t— I don’t show my face to anyone. I expect everyone to act the way I want them to. I’m almost always busy.”
“At least you’re self-aware,” You brush off, “And, for the record, I don’t know what abrasive means and I can’t tell empathy from sympathy without using Google.”
Ghost looks back at you in disbelief and stares for a moment before saying quietly, “Abrasive means harsh. And empathy is showing understanding for others while sympathy is pity.”
“I also like your shitty jokes,” You add on, “I think they’re great. They make everyone else mad so I like them. And some of them are funny.”
“You find them funny?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s…” Ghost blinks at you, eyes a little watery, before huffing out a small laugh, “That’s ridiculous, none of them are funny. I call them shitty for a reason.”
“Some of them are pretty funny.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“The Mayflower one.”
“… That one?” Ghost asks, tone humorous but still disbelieving, “Out of all the ones I’ve told, that one?”
“Yes, that one,” You insist, before pausing and holding back a smile while tacking on, “Unless you wanna tell it again to try and change my mind?”
Ghost thinks for a moment before telling the joke, “If April showers bring May flowers, what do Mayflowers bring?”
You feign cluelessness for a moment, “What do they bring?”
“Pilgrims.” The bluntness of the delivery makes you quietly snicker, much to Ghost’s surprise, the laugh not forced or anything.
“It’s still good,” You sigh, small giggles still escaping your lips.
“It’s really not,” Ghost sighs, finally retracting his hand from your shoulder to settle it on the railing of your bed and use it to help himself stand up. Once he fully stands up, he looks down at you, and one look at your face makes him want to whisk you out of bed and at least hug you, but he knows he can’t with your sore muscles and still-somewhat frozen skin.
Instead, he opts for grabbing one of your hands gently and giving it a very emotionally charged squeeze, and holding it for another few moments before letting go.
“I’m not forgetting that, by the way,” At Ghost’s confused eyes, you tack on, “You confirming earlier that you think of me as your kid.”
“That—” Ghost stammers for a moment before saying, “That was barely a confirmation, that was just— that was nothing.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. Yeah. Yep.”
“So if I told you that you saying that that was nothing is making me a little bit upset…”
“… Then I would say, out of pity, that I did mean it and that it was a confirmation.”
“Good to know,” You nod.
“But that’s only a hypothetical.”
“Right, yeah, of course.”
You both stay silent for another moment, the silence now a little less awkward, before Ghost says, “I’m gonna, uh… head out, now.”
“Alright,” You hum simply, watching as Ghost nods to you as a sort of ‘bye’ before heading towards the curtains in front of your bed.
Before he can exit, you quickly and quietly say, “Thank you, for saving me.”
He pauses, a little confused on why you chose now to thank him—and why you thanked him at all—until he quickly recalls earlier in the conversation when he’d mentioned expecting some words of gratitude.
He smiles behind his mask, the smile evident in his voice as he replies to you, “No problem.”
#cod#cod hcs#hcs#task force 141#tf141#platonic task force 141#platonic taskforce141#cod mwii#cod mw2#ghost cod#mw2#call of duty#simon ghost riley#ghost#platonic ghost#platonic cod#hurt/comfort#whump#fluff#hypothermia#*shows up after a month* hey guys#sorry writing slump fucking sucks#also school sucks#anyway its 4:30 am so im queueing this then immediately sleeping#shoutout to my discord friend zey who i talked to while writing this#hes great#love him
482 notes
·
View notes
Text
october 1998
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
im so stressedfor uni for literally no reason its so bad i think high school has traumatised me ..
we got some robin pov today!!!!! i hope ur all doing well <3 i will still be posting one shots like i used to just not as frequently now im afraid..
i was thinking of doing a tingyun x reader maybe soooo maybe thats next
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
The rhythmic tapping of the feet, the squeak of a sole of the shoe against the dance floor, the quiet sounds of panting and gasping, eventually overtaken by silence as Robin drops to her knees. The cold wood against her knees, fan barely keeping her from overheating as she wipes the sweat off her forehead. Each move she practices feels wrong, slightly off. And she can't have that if she wants to audition next month for the company that's now opening up for new trainees. Her body feels right, yet the mirror shows her moves constrained and held back, stiff and rocky.
"Fuck!"
The sound of a fist hitting against the planks echoes through the dance studio, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes as she takes a shaky breath to calm herself down.
"Robin?"
The unfamiliar voice has her looking up quickly, quickly brushing away the once falling tears as she takes in the person who stands at the door.
"Topaz?"
The student council member just blinks.
"I- I haven't seen you since like, primary school. I heard you moved back." Topaz clears her throat "Can I come in?"
Robin nods, and Topaz opens the door to enter the somewhat stuffy dance studio. She takes in the sight of Robin, eyes red and knees bruised, kneeling on the ground in a sweat-drenched shirt and she sighs- unable to stop herself from worrying.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes."
The response came too quickly to her liking.
"Really?"
Robin nods again and Topaz doesn't press the matter any further.
"Student council, huh?"
"Same as it was when I was in primary."
"Except more responsibilities now, I assume."
Topaz lets out a chuckle that sounds slightly forced. Robin just watches from the ground as Topaz moves to open a window, a gust of wind and the slight ventilation had Robin releasing a breath she didn't realise she was holding in.
"Why are you still here? It's late." Topaz raises an eyebrow "Way past 6pm. Only school registered clubs are allowed to stay."
Robin clenches her jaw, looking away to stare at the wooden planks beneath her. Topaz doesn't sound like she wants to get Robin into trouble, more so worried. And the worry pisses Robin off for reasons she can't quite explain. But she can't show that.
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine. You haven't been here in a long time anyways." Topaz offers out a hand "Come on, let's go."
The hand stays held out for a bit, until Robin finally takes it. Topaz helps Robin up to her feet, who at this point can't even stand without feeling like her ankles are about to crumble into dust and her arms might just fall out of their sockets. So she stumbles slightly, Topaz quickly steadying her with a concerned look in her eyes and something else. Something Robin despises.
Pity.
"Are you okay?"
Robin nods, shooting her usual charming smile as she stands up straight, ignoring the jolt of pain up her back and hiding a wince behind a smile.
"All good."
The humid summer fades into a cool autumn breeze now, and walking in this weather is significantly nicer than walking in what feels like a never-ending sauna. She zips up the windbreaker, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she walks down the same path. The same path that would let her pass by the soccer field where the archery club would practice on Wednesdays but always made an exception for their golden star. Their child prodigy.
You.
She watches from afar as each arrow nails a target so small she can barely see the score. She watches you hit score after score that a normal person would find impressive but you frown at with a look of growing frustration. She loses time watching you shoot from afar, just standing there, unable to move.
The day your mother came to pick you up, she remembers distinctly watching the entire conversation unfold. The archery club whispered behind your back and she had to physically fight the urge to throw something at them.
What hurt her most was seeing you cry. The last time you cried, in her memory, was when you were six. You broke a gift Robin had given you and broke down to her about it, sobbing and begging for her forgiveness and Robin just remembers laughing. She remembers telling you it's okay and that it's just a gift but you still insisted that it was more than just that.
You were six.
Robin doesn't want to think about how many times you might've cried over her, over losing her for a reason you never figured out. The guilt still eats her alive- and it's only worsened after getting here. She wanted to avoid you, but you can't really avoid anyone in a small town where everyone knows everything about each other, like who failed their job interview, whose son got into university, whose company went bankrupt and had to move back to a country they long left behind. There was no avoiding you, which meant each day was confrontation with the reality of what she had done and who she had lost from her own immaturity.
So lost in her thoughts, she doesn't realise that you had stopped shooting. You had put your bow down, sitting on the ground with your knees pulled to your chest and head buried in your arms. You look so vulnerable in the moment, like a strayed dog who had come to terms with the fact that it would never find comfort. She wants to talk to you, she wants to approach you and ask you if you're okay but based on your last reaction- perhaps it wasn't the best idea.
So she walks away, forcing herself to move one foot at a time away from you. She walks, the image of you sitting alone on the field burned in her mind now.
How alone could one be?
"Robin! How have you been?"
She finds herself, once again, at the door of the convenience store your mom ran.
"Hello, Ms. Yukong." She bows slightly "I've been well."
"Adjusting alright?"
"Yep."
She shoots your mom a smile as she walks down the candy aisle, looking for a specific sweet in mind. Her eyes soften when she finally spots it, the Dream Candy. It was stocked up high, and she smiles at the thought that your mother had purposefully gotten more in stock in case you wanted to eat them. A sweet gesture, and she wonders if you've ever noticed it.
"Dream Candy?" Yukong smiles as Robin approaches the counter "I didn't realise you still liked these."
"I haven't had them since I left." She says quietly as she slides a bill across the counter. Yukong hums, quickly giving Robin some change.
"It's Y/n's favourite too, you know?"
I know.
"Really?"
"She loved them as a kid, same with puffergoat milk. You might've forgotten by now."
I didn't.
"Most likely." She laughs "We haven't spoken in a couple years."
She leaves the store with a feeling of emptiness she hasn't felt in a long time. A small packet of assorted sweets in one hand, steamed puffergoat milk in the other, she makes her way up to the same rooftop she ran into you two months ago- the same rooftop she had been too afraid to go back to in fear of seeing you.
The walk was an odd one, essentially going back up the path to school except she takes a left turn at a certain house and up a sketchy looking set of stairs before continuing down the path. Eventually, she will reach an old abandoned building with a large 'NO TRESAPSSING' sign that she has willingly decided to ignore. Pass the gates, through the door. It's dark now, all she has illuminating her are the streetlights and a flashlight keychain she has.
The view at the building is not anything breath taking. It's a cloudy night and even the moon has decided to avoid her, for better or for worse. She moves to sit at the edge of the building, feet dangling over with the threat of falling looming over her. It's this threat that makes her want to sit here, as a form of punishment of sorts. She twists open the cap, taking a small swig of the drink before letting out a soft sigh. It's not often she likes to be alone with her thoughts yet recently she has found herself unable to process anything- as if she was overloading. She wants to focus on her dancing but all she can think about is the expression on your face when she tried to talk to you. She wants to focus on the audition soon but all she can think about is the way you turn around to walk the other way if you ever see her walking towards your direction.
It hurts, but it's deserved. Perhaps this pain she feels is only half, a quarter, a tenth of whatever pain you felt when she decided to stop talking to you.
By the time she finishes the entire drink, it was completely dark out. The silence surrounding her should have freaked her out at least a little but she can't help but find it calming, she can't help but like the silence.
She looks down at the bag of sweets in her hand.
Maybe, just maybe.
"So I was telling her like, I can't keep doing this. I'm exhausted, I have barely any time to study and she still expects me to somehow maintain sixteen hours of archery a week alongside maintaining top grades."
You can't stop yourself from completely going off on Stelle. It was a dam long waiting to be broken and when she asked if you were okay it just broke. The two of you were walking to your locker to pick up your archery bag for practice, Stelle choosing to accompany you as she had nothing to do and she made the unfortunate choice to ask how you were doing.
"Talking to her is going to be useless, I'm not sure what else you can do."
You groan in frustration, leaning your head against the locker door as you've arrived.
"There is nothing I can do anyways, fucking hell." You grumble as you throw open the locker door.
You blink.
You did not remember buying a pack of your favourite candies.
"What-"
You pick up the pack, peeling off the sticky note on top. The handwriting was unrecognisable, no one you talked to aside from Dan Heng had handwriting this neat.
But this was not Dan Heng's handwriting.
Take care of yourself! It'll be okay :)
"What is that?"
You feel your heart beat just a bit faster as you reread the note, Stelle peeking over your shoulder.
"Secret admirer?" Stelle's eyes widened, and you can't stop the silly grin from forming on your face as you fold the note up and pocketed it. It feels ridiculous, you feel ridiculous. "Let me see the note!"
"No!"
"I wanna see if I can figure out the handwriting, come on!"
"Shut up-" You lightly pushed Stelle away, a fluttering feeling in your chest. The person behind the note didn't matter, but the fact that someone was looking out for you made you feel warm in ways you hadn't felt in a long time. Stelle rests her chin on your shoulder, standing behind you as she pouts and you feel your heart beating faster again.
"Come on, let me read it!"
"Oh, fuck off."
You look inside your locker for your other things before taking out the archery bag, Stelle stepping back as you heave the back onto your shoulder.
"How do you lug this thing around every day?"
"Honestly? I have no idea."
She follows you like a stray puppy, but all that you could focus on is the fact that she is next to you.
Nobody tells you how hard it would be to perform well when your crush / best friend has her eyes on you the entire time. She watches you like she's learning from you, eyes tracing your every move as you lift the bow up, drawing back, and firing.
"Don't keep staring at me, it's pressuring me."
"But you look cool."
You have to fight every fibre in your being to stop yourself from smiling.
"Shut up."
You fire again.
"9." Stelle announces through the binoculars
"Fuck."
"How is that bad?" Stelle's eyes widened "You are shooting at a target I can barely even see!"
You shake your head.
"Not good enough according to my mom." You sigh as you sit down next to her on the grass, pulling out the pack of sweets and opening it. Stelle grins, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that makes her look absolutely ridiculous.
"Soooo, can I see the note?"
"No." You hand her the pack as you chew on the gummy "It's fine. They'll probably reveal themselves at some point or another."
"You have to tell me who it is. I wanna guess it's... ooh, maybe it's Tingyun from business?"
"Tingyun? I've barely spoken to her."
"But she's always looking at you."
You roll your eyes.
Again, it really doesn't matter whoever it is. Because the person you wanted most is sitting right next to you, barely even realising you're looking at her with the softest gaze as she rambles on about why she thinks it's Tingyun (it most definitely is not, and you are willing to bet on that).
"I'm surprised they got my favourite candy right." You mumble as you toss one up into the air, catching it with your mouth. Stelle does the same, copying you except she doesn't actually catch it and just wasted one of your precious sweets- sacrificing it to the ants on the field.
"You eat that shit all the time in class, anyone could've guessed." Stelle takes another one from you gratefully
"Whatever."
It's rare for Stelle to stay after school, she normally works part time jobs but every time she does get to stay she spends it with you. And you're grateful that she has the time to spend with you today. There's nobody else you'd rather be sharing sweets with as you watch the sunset together.
As Robin walks down the same path, she notices the smile on your face from afar. It's bright, and it's warm. You look happy, and that's all that she can really care about for now- even if it hurts to see you smiling like that with someone else.
#remember me 1999#hsr#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr robin#hsr x you#robin x fem reader#robin hsr#robin angst#robin x reader#hsr robin x reader
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm unhappy with my current drafts so I'm just gonna write just whatever comes to mind. No matter how it ends up, I'm gonna post it. Forgive me if it's not good. Some days, you just have to write just for the enjoyment and not care about results.
As Jin is returning soon he's the target of my story
Warning: emeto, fever.
Sickie: Jin with a bit of Yoongi. (Because my mind said so)
Caregivers: ot7
Jin presses his forehead against Yoongi's shoulder, trying to shield his eyes from the light that caused pain to ripple across his aching head.
"What's wrong Hyungie? Your breathing is off.." Yoongi speaks softly to him, running his hand through his hair. Yoongi couldn't recall Jin ever getting sick from flying. Seokjin is usually the one caring for the younger members, him included.
"All the flashing lights at the airport gave me a headache that's all.. I'll be okay." Jin picks up his head to talk to Yoongi, but Yoongi pushes him back down when he sees a flash of pain in Seokjins eyes.
"I got some medicine to help with the pain, just rest now. Okay? Let me take care of you this time Hyungie" Yoongi digs through his carry on for some pain relievers and an eye mask frowning when he hears only a single pill rattling. Sh*t.. will this be enough to help? I thought I had more.
"This should help at least a little..it's only 200mgs though.." Yoongi speaks softly, not wanting to risk making his hyung feel worse. "I'm sorry..I'm usually better prepared for travel.."
"No, no its okay. Thank you..this will be enough to help. Its not that bad really..I'll just sleep it off." Jin swallows the small pill, drinking the bit of water he had left in his bottle, covering his eyes up, leaning his head back against Yoongi.
Yoongi tries to gently massage Jin's temple to help ease the pain, relaxing when he hears the older’s breathing slow as he falls asleep. "I hope you feel better soon.." he whispers, brushing Jin's hair behind his ear when he sees it tickling Jin's ear, making him twitch in his sleep.
"What's wrong with Seokjinnie-hyung?" Namjoon whispers when he sees Yoongi's worried expression, taking out his headphones.
"Hyungie isn't feeling well, he said he just had a headache, but it sounds like he was suppressing coughs while we were going through the airport.." Yoongi whispers underneath his breath, Namjoon having to read his lips and lean forward to understand him.
"I'll get some medicine for him.." Namjoon promises, knowing Yoongi wouldn't want to risk waking up Jin by trying to flag down a staff member.
"That'd be great, thanks Namjoon-ah.. i gave him what i had, but i don't think its enough..Namjoon... could you ah..get me some water too?" Yoongi asks in a small voice.
"Are you feeling sick too?" Namjoon furrows his brow with worry when he sees that Yoongi's cheeks lacked color.
"I'm fine. I just took the medicine for motion sickness a little too late. It'll pass in a bit.. Don't worry." Yoongi gives Namjoon a reassuring smile, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. There's no focus point in the sky like in a car to help.. maybe I'll try to sleep too..
"Tell me if you still feel sick an hour after landing okay hyung?" Namjoon orders gently. "Just because Seokjinnie-hyung is feeling sick doesn't mean how you feel isn’t just as important.."
"I will, Joon-ah.. thank you.." Yoongi leans his head against Jin's closing his eyes, finding comfort in the familiar scent of Jin's shampoo filling his nostrils. It's a short flight.. just two and a half hours.. when I wake up, we'll be landing.. I'll feel better then..
"Hyung.." Yoongi calls to Jin, who was still asleep on his shoulder. "We landed. You need to wake up now.. Hyung.." he gently shakes his shoulder to try to jostle him awake.
"Mmmn? What?" Jin blinks his eyes slowly, trying to process what the oldest rapper was saying to him, removing the blind fold. "Yoongi..?"
"Hyungie we landed. It's time to get off the plane.." Yoongi repeats himself patiently, waiting for recognition to light up in Jin's eyes.
"Ah..right.. the award show.." Jin sits upright, wincing at the tension in his neck. "I slept in that position too long.."
"I'll see what I can do about it while we're in the car. I'm sorry, me sleeping against your head probably made it worse.." Yoongi gently rubs the back of Jin's neck, feeling the tension that limited Jin's movement.
"Yoongi please don't.. that hurts.." Jin pushes Yoongi's hands away, wincing at his touch."I'll ask for a heat pack.."
"I'm sorry Hyungie. I'm sorry.." Yoongi frowns, his eyes dilating with worry, his stomach knotting with guilt.. "You might need to make an appointment to see a chiropractor."
"Don't worry so much Yoongi-yah. You just wanted to help and i appreciate it, but it's okay. it's not that bad, but I'll talk to staff if it'll make you feel better." Jin smiles through the pain, putting a hand on Yoongi's shoulder. "Let's get off this plane. I'm gonna take a shower and nap until we need to work."
"Alright Hyung, here.. you can wear my hat. It'll help block the camera lights." Yoongi unsnaps his hat from his carry on bag, placing it on Jin's head and snapping it to fit him. "I'll lead you. Just keep your head down."
Jin nods, taking Yoongi's elbow. "Ready."
Yoongi leads Jin off the plane, moving quickly to get past the mob of photographers, reporters and fans who filled the airport, all screaming for them to look in their direction.
Jimin tries to ask them to move so they can have a path, making hand motions to clear the way, Taehyung trying to shush the crowd, but it was in vain.
"Not so fast..I can't keep the pace.." Jin tries to pull away from Yoongi, but Yoongi grabs onto his arm, nearly tripping over their security guard when he quickly stepped in front of him to push a girl's arm away from grabbing onto Yoongi.
"I'm sorry Hyung..but you'll get trampled if we don't keep going this speed.. i can see the car. Please bear with it a little longer." Yoongi couldn't tell if Jin heard him over the chaos, but Jin didn't try to pull away. Namjoon went on the other side of Jin, Jungkook walking behind him, keeping a hand on Jin's shoulder.
"I..I'm going to be sick.." Jin swayed, swallowing hard refusing to let himself, the only thing keeping him on his feet is Yoongi and Namjoon holding him in a tight grip.His stomach churned his body reaching its limits. Theres so many flashes..it's making me dizzy..and the screams..my head is splitting..
Yoongi gets in the car first, pulling Jin in with him. Namjoon and Jungkook follow right behind, Hoseok pulling the door shut behind him.
"Hyung are you okay?" Yoongi asks speaking softly, rubbing his hand across his shoulder. "We're out of the crowd now. It's okay.." Yoongi tries to comfort Jin when he realizes he's shaking.
Jin shakes his head, afraid to open his mouth to speak. He places his hand over his face,his muscles tightened around his abdomen, pushing up thick bile into his throat. No..not now..please..
Namjoon acts quickly when he notices the color completely drain from Jin's face, knowing whats coming before Jin even clamped his hand over his mouth. "Sh*t, Fu*k.." he curses, reaching forward to ruffle through the center console, finding a plastic bag.
Jin tried to hold it back while Namjoon searched for something, swallowing down the bile, but it ended coming right back up with more force. He felt the warm sick fill his hand only upsetting his stomach even more.
Namjoon quickly opens the plastic bag for Jin, holding it underneath him. Yoongi looks for napkins, using the water from his carry on to wet it, taking Jins hand to clean it.
"I-im..I'm sorr..sorry.." Jin whimpers in between heaves, throwing up into the bag Namjoon held open as wide as possible.
"Hyung no, don't be sorry. Things happen..you can't help being sick. It's okay." Yoongi wets another napkin, swallowing the spit that pooled in his mouth. I can handle this. It's no big deal.. I can just wash my hands later..I can't get sick too..hyungie needs help..
Yoongi quickly tosses the soiled napkin in the bag in-between heaves, checking Jin's hand once more to be sure he got it all before taking his hand in his, rubbing his knuckles. His heart clenched when he saw Jin's eyes pooling with tears as another mouthful pushes up.
Hoseok buried his face into Jungkooks shoulder, his stomach churning sympathetically at the sound of Jin.
"Hang on, I'll help.. Hobi-hyung just wait.."Jungkook ruffles through his pocket, finding his headphones and sticking them in Hoseoks ears, turning on music to try to help. The distraction of helping Hoseok helped him hold back his emotions.
Namjoon tried to keep Jin's mind distracted so he didn't notice the others around him, talking to him gently to try to keep the focus on him and not the fact Yoongi had lost the color to his face, Hoseok was fighting the urge to Vomit from the sound of him and the teary eyed Kook who couldn't stand seeing his brothers like this.
"You'll feel better once it's all out.. it's okay.. most of us have gotten airsick before..it's no big deal..just focus on breathing.. it's okay..it's okay.."
Jin let out another few mouthfuls of half digested food, his body trembling with effort, his energy draining. His muscles burned, pushing up less each time until nothing came but thick saliva.
"I..i..m..done now.." Jin speaks in a hoarse whisper, leaning against Yoongi, trying to catch his breath again. "I'm..I'm okay now.."
"Do you think you can drink some water?" Namjoon asks softly, his hands shaking as he ties up the bag, staff grabbing to take it from him. He's still really pale and his breathing is really rough.. I hope we can get to the hotel without any issues..we had to switch hotels twice when we were in the Phillipines..
"Namjoon-ah..calm down..it's okay..I'm feeling better than I look..really.." Jin coughs in between his sentences, ruining the comfort he was trying to give his anxious leader. Jin takes a drink of the water, hoping that would help soothe his nerves.
Namjoon pushes Jin's bangs out of his face, checking to see if he felt warm to the touch, relaxing when he hardly feels warmer than his own forehead. "Try to rest until it's time to get out hyungie.."
Jin nods, getting comfortable on Yoongi's shoulder, only taking a few minutes for exhaustion to hit.
"Hyungie.. the alarm is going off. Are you awake?" Taehyung calls softly to Jin from his bed in the hotel room they shared.
"I am now..."Jin yawns, rolling over to face Taehyung, closing his eyes when the bright light from the window hits his face, making him painfully aware of the pounding headache he had didn't go away even after napping and a couple pain relievers. "What time is it..?"
"It's four-thirty, we need to be ready in an hour to go to the show..I'm sorry to wake you.. I wanted to give you time to get ready.." Taehyung apologizes with a bow,feeling guilty to wake up Jin, his stomach knotting.
He quickly runs to close the blinds when he notices it is bothering his older brother. "Sorry. I didn't want to turn on the light..the bedside lamp is broken.."
"It's okay Vuu, don't apologize. You did the right thing. I'd hate to make staff have to work on dirty hair" Jin drags himself out of bed, trying to keep himself from shaking in front of Taehyung. "I'm going to shower. Could you choose me and an outfit?"
"Of course Hyung." Taehyung goes to Jin's suitcase to find something comfortable. Jinnie-hyung still looks pale.. I'll have to tell Namjoon..
Jin goes into the bathroom, taking a few shaky breaths. Why do I feel worse after sleeping? My head still hurts just as much as before and my muscles still burn.. I need to pull myself together..Namjoon needs me to be there for him. He gets so nervous at events like this..
He slowly strips out of his clothes, turning on the shower, sitting in the tub, letting the water cascade down his back, hoping the warmth could do something for the pain.
Jin is awake now, but I don't think he's feeling any better.. It's too early for him to take another dose of pain pills, though..
Taehyung makes a chat with the other members excluding Jin.
Medical staff hasn't landed, the other flight got delayed.. they won't be here until tomorrow. Staff is looking for a local doctor that will come see him. If he gets any worse tell me. I'll get staff to take him to the hospital.
Namjoon texts. He had already wanted to find him help as soon as they landed, but finding a doctor that makes house calls last minute when it wasn't an emergency wasn't working in his favor.
Taehyung felt his heart fluttering with worry when he hears Jin coughing hard in the bathroom, rushing to check on him. "Are you throwing up hyung..?"
"No, no I'm okay..my throat is just sore from getting sick like that earlier." Jin reassures Taehyung, trying to clear his throat.
"I'll make you some tea Hyung." Taehyung places the clothes he chose for Jin on the counter, going to the keurig and placing a green tea pod inside.
Taehyung returns to the bathroom letting the tea brew. "Hyung do you want me to wash your hair? Maybe a scalp massage will help your headache."
"Alright.. but you aren't coming in here." Jin wets his hair once more before turning off the showerhead, the water running in the bath, hitting his feet.
Taehyung opens the curtains, taking the shampoo and creating a lather, massaging it gently into Jin's scalp. "I'm not being too rough am i?"
"No..it feels nice.." Jin hums, closing his eyes when Taehyung washes his bangs, the gentle circles ebbing a bit of the pain away to make it more tolerable.
Taehyung feels his shoulders relax when he hears Jin's soft sigh, giving him a sign that he was doing something to help ease the pain that plagued his eldest hyung. "Does your stomach still hurt hyung?"
"It hurts, but like..don't feel like I'm going to throw up, but my sides burn when i take a deep breath..it's sore.." Jin tells him earnestly.
"Hang on, hyung.." Taehyung goes to the kitchen, getting the ice bucket. He fills it with water halfway, using it to get the soap out of Jin's hair without having to shove his head under the sink or stand in the shower. "Keep your eyes closed, please hyung..." Taehyung keeps one hand on Jins forehead, making a barrier to keep the soap from running down into Jins eyes.
Jin obeys, pawing at his sore stomach, trying to rub the pain away. "Thank you Tete.." Jin says with a gentle smile when Taehyung finishes up with his hair, holding back a cough. "You should focus on getting ready yourself, I can wash up myself from here. I'm feeling much better now.."
"Okay hyung..I'll leave the door cracked..call for me if you need anything." Taehyung leaves, looking back at Jin before Jin pulled the curtain shut to turn back on the shower.
Washing him perked him up a bit, but he's got a cough now.. I hope he'll be okay to do the interview and performance..
Taehyung types his worries.
His throat is probably just sore from puking earlier, but I asked staff to get some medicine just in case.
Hoseok texts back, followed by Namjoon.
I'll do what I can to keep the questions off of him during the interview, and if he's not feeling well enough to perform, we can always have him sit it out.
Namjoon texts back,Taehyung feeling the tension in his shoulders loosen. The hyungs have it handled. I just need to do all i can for the team..
Okay. I made him some tea to see if that will help with his throat..
Taehyung quickly texts back, putting his phone down and returning to the kitchen to add a bit of sugar to try to combat the bitter of the tea.
Jin finishes up in the bath, wrapping a towel around his body, his knees folding underneath him when he tries to stand, dizziness making him crash onto the tile.
Taehyung runs to check on him when he hears the sound, checking his ankles for any sign of injury before getting him to his feet, sitting him up on the toliet to get him dry, rubbing a towel across his dripping body.
"Are you okay, hyung?" Taehyung says, voice a pitch higher with worry, checking Jin's legs for injuries, frowning when he sees a bruise forming on his knee."What happened?"
"I'm okay Vuu, I just fell. It's just a little bruise. It's no big deal." Jin tells Taehyung, trying to get his vision to focus on him. What's going on with me? My body feels so weak.. I need to pull myself together..
"Hyung please don't lie to me.. Are you sure you can do this? You don't look well.." Taehyung speaks softly, trying to dry Jin's hair with the towel, his his heart tightening when Jin coughs when he tries to answer.
Taehyung rubs his back, trying to ease the pain, sighing with relief when the cough stops as quickly as it begins, but that isn't good enough for him."Hyung, I don't think you should perform.. Please, consider sitting it out? At least the dancing?" He asks gently.
"I'm okay Taehyungie, I just caught a cold.. I'll take some medicine and go to bed early tonight." Jin reassures Taehyung sounding more confident than he really felt. Army worked hard to help us win this award..the least I can do is perform a few songs for them...
Jin coughs into his sleeve, trying to silence it to stop himself from interrupting Namjoon, who was politely answering the interviewers question. He feels a hand touch his thigh, looking at the owner of it, meeting the eyes of Jungkook.
The mankae offers him a water bottle, him taking it gratefully. 'Thank you..' Jin mouths, trying to wash down the foul taste of phlegm that his body kept coughing up.
Why do I feel worse after taking medicine? This isn't good..I'm performing soon..
"One last question for the group. This is the first time you'll be performing Destiny live. Army is so excited. Does it have choreography?" The interviewer asks, Jin's heart dropping into his stomach when the realization hits him.
That's right.. we've been practicing this song for a month now to show Army.. I can't let the sleepless nights we spent go to waste.. why do I have to have a center position..?
"It's okay Hyung.. you got this.." Jimin leans in to Jin, pressing his forehead against his cheek to comfort him, quickly pulling back when he feels the warmth. "Hyung-"
Jimin gets cut off by Namjoon’s voice. "This has been..."
"BTS.." Everyone speaks after him, ending the interview, the boys being rushed by staff to quickly get ready.
Jimin goes to go to Namjoon to tell him about Jin's declining health, but Jin takes his wrist. "Jimin-ah please, don't tell him.. I can do this.. I'll tell him after we perform Destiny. We worked so hard on it.. I won't be able to sleep tonight if I ruin this for everyone. It's only been twenty minutes since I took the medicine, it'll kick in by the time we perform. I'll ge okay.."
Jimin wanted to argue against him, but the determination and desperation in Jin's eyes made him give in. This means so much to him.. he'll regret it if he doesn't try and the guilt will only make him feel worse..
"Please Jimin?" Jin asks once more, knowing Jimin was close to giving in.
"Hyung please take it easy when you perform.. Army will understand if you don't give it your all..okay?" Jimin touches his shoulder, pleading in a whisper when he sees staff approaching them, giving them their mics.
"Five minutes until you perform."
Jin could feel the sweat already pooling at the back of his neck, covering up his mic to cough. He could hear Army starting the fanchant, waiting for the lights to come on.
Please..please I just need to last four minutes, please..
Jin pleaded with his body, his stomach twisting and churning with every movement, his head pounding at the sound of the screams he would normally cherish.
The lights turned on, making the screams louder as soon as Jungkook started to sing. Jin forced himself to move, his knee throbbing when he dropped to the ground to the beat, stumbling when he tried to quickly rise back to his feet.
Guilt churned his already sour stomach, bile trying to rise up his throat, but he continued to perform, ignoring his body's plea for him to stop. He moves to the next position, singing his part without letting the audience know how poorly he is feeling, quickly moving to side to cough, his throat unable to handle the notes he usually hit with ease.
Namjoon joins him, quickly getting him water before Hoseok finishes his verse. "Hyung you need to take it easy. I can see your hands trembling.. Are you okay?"
Jin doesn't answer him, taking the water from his hand and taking a drink,but the water his too heavy on his stomach, his body instantly pushing it up, placing his hand over his mouth, Vomit soaking his palm.
He could hear the crowd in front of him screaming in worry for him, his legs turning to jello, Namjoon quickly catching him before he hits the floor.
"Sh*t, Hyung.. we need to get you back stage, hang on.."
Namjoon flags staff over, the security guards leading him down the steps. Namjoon clenches his teeth, forcing himself not to follow Jin, quickly going back to the stage, nearly running into Jimin . It'll be too hard on the team for two of us to be missing. I'll check on him the moment we get off stage..
The members already knew what happened without Namjoon telling him, Jimin's voice trembling when he sings knowing he could've prevented it if he just told on Jin in the final place.
Jin is lead to the nearest waste bin, Mr. Lee holding him up as he throws up a thick liquid, his body trembling, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"I..i..ruined it.." He sobs, another mouthful of sick coming in-between reaches. "I let..everyone d..do.." his words get cut off by his stomach pushing up more hot sick, splashing into the bin.
"Don't speak. No one will blame you for being sick. Just focus on breathing right now.. okay Seokjin-sii?" Mr. Lee rubs his hand across Jin's back, feeling his body trembling with effort. "It's okay.. you need to calm down.."
Jin tries to take deep breaths, but each breath he tries to take only causes him to cough, his lungs screaming for air. "I...i..can't.."
After a few minutes he could hear the sound of his members rushing to him, Namjoon taking over for Mr.Lee. "hyung you can be so stubborn.. you should've told me you still felt like this.."
Jin felt Namjoon's arms wrap around his chest, supporting his weight as he dry heaves pushing up nothing but strings of spit "I'm..I'm sorry.." he answers in a raspy whisper, leaning into Namjoon, waiting for the waves of nausea to end.
"Hyung you dont have anything left in your stomach.. please try to breathe..." Namjoon adds softly, feeling himself sweat from contact, using his sleeve to wipe the sweat from Jin's face. "You're burning up.."
Jon focuses on breathing, the dry heaves dying down to coughs, pushing the can away from him, leaning into Namjoon. Namjoon gently lowers him gently moving him to be able to rest his head on his lap.
Yoongi wets a towel with a bottle of water, gently wiping the sweat from Jin's face, his heart tightening to see Jin's pained expression up close, his eyes tightly shut when he breathes in from his strained muscles.
"I'm sorry..I just wanted to do one.. song and I thought I had it.. under control.." Jins voice comes out soft, still trying to catch his breath, covering his face with his arm.
"Don't worry about that right now.. just focus on your breathing right now? Do you think you can drink some water?" Namjoon asks softly.
Jim shakes his head, his stomach churning at the thought of putting anything in his system. "Maybe...I should go to the hospital to get an IV.." he sits up slowly, holding his sore middle.
Yoongi places a hand on Jin's back to help him. "Hyung we weren't going to give you a choice on that one.. you really scared us Hyung.. especially Jiminie."
Jin looks around, his chest tightening when he sees Jimins eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Im sorry I should've tried harder to talk you into not performing.."
"Jimin-ah..come here." Seokjin pulls Jimin into a hug. "I shouldn't asked you to be quiet.. it's not your fault okay? It's just mine for letting my emotions get the better of..." he coughs, trying to cover it with his fist.
"The car is ready." Staff tells them.
"Thank you.." Namjoon says, gently leading Jin to his feet, feeling him tremble with effort. He's trying to act tough, but he's still so pale and shaky. "Let's get you taken care of.. no more hiding how you feel okay hyung?"
#bts sickfic#bts boys#bts fanfic#bts sickie#bts taehyung#bts jhope#bts namjoon#bts jimin#bts jungkook#bts#bts jin#bts yoongi#sick!fic#sick boy#sick!jin#tw emeto#bts emeto#bts fever#bts fanfction
28 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello! i don't want this ask to come off as mean or targeted at all so please don't take it that way, but i'm confused as to why you're still a my hero fan you don't seem to like the characters or the way that the story is headed, is it just hate watching (uhh,, consuming of media??) at this point? again it's cool if that's what it is, but you talk about the characters like they aren't that in depth, not just bakugou but. the other villains and also izuku too.
you said something about izuku just being happy and content with losing one for all in the new leaks, (in that same post you weren't caught up so i sorta get why you could draw to that conclusion,) but also izuku's character is known for bottling up his emotions.
Izuku's is always happy (even when he's not), the only time we really see him fall apart is his vigilante arc. yes throughout the story he is constantly crying, but again, never in situations that he is really hurt emotionally you know? We get to see his journey and his progress, it's all that he's ever wanted in life, to have a quirk and save people, so when that gets stripped away, he's gonna be a bit gutted no? thats what i think at least. the story started with "this is how i become the worlds greatest hero" but i think it's always been more about what make someone a hero, why people should want to be heros, and their stories behind it. why else create flawed characters like bakugou and shigaraki if not to show all the side of the story?
gosh, sorry didn't mean to write a whole essay, my words tend to get away from me. I would love to see your views once you do catch up tho.
Hmm. Well, I talked about some of my motivations in... that Gaiden post, I think, but if I wasn't OK with ranting, I wouldn't have made this account just to rant.
Why am I still a fan? And as an extended of that, still posting?
Spite.
No, seriously.
Like. When I first started reading MHA, I was amazed. It just felt so... refreshing, so unique; I loved how determined and kind Izuku was, I loved how human All Might was, I liked the variety apparent in the world, how rich it felt, all the potential to it. And then, before my eyes, I watched it rot away, so slowly I didn't even realize what was happening until it was already dead.
I miss what MHA was, and so much of this is... mourning, almost, for what was and could have been.
Also, like I said, spite, because I watched this fester before my eyes and honestly I want to call out each and every wound and point of rot on it's corpse, along with some desire for validation in finding people who agree with me.
'but you talk about the characters like they aren't that in depth, not just bakugou but. the other villains and also izuku too.'
Not... quite sure what you mean here? I think you mean that I think they're done badly? (And I do, so you're not wrong there.)
Alright, see, so I don't disagree with your logic here: Izuku is a mess. Izuku is a mess held together by lack of time (or not being allowed) to process his shit storm of a life and duty. He's gotten everything taken away from him.
He should be pissed. He should be feel destroyed, depressed.
But the keyword here is 'should'. And that is the problem, in a word. Izuku 'should' be upset. He 'should' be depressed.
But historically, things that 'should' happen regarding Izuku just... don't happen. From his abilities, to his opinion on himself, to other people's views on him... what 'should' happen, logically, just doesn't.
Also... let me pose a question:
Do you think Hori is going to end MHA with Izuku withering away from depression? That his friends, one by one, are going to abandon him, because they only ever really liked his Quirk, that his mom is going to die of disappointment of her useless son, that All Might will get killed by a three year old wielding a balloon? And that he'll die early, and the only one to attend his funeral will be Aizawa, out of obligation, and his entire summery of Izuku's life, and the inscription on his grave, will be 'Problem Child'?
Of course not. (Even though I get the feeling that Hori kind of does want that.) If he tried it, the editors would literally kill him. Less dramatically, they just wouldn't print it and make him rewrite it, because they don't want to fuck up the MHA cash cow at the finish line.
I'm not caught up, yet, but for this? I don't have to be. Stories like shonens follow basic structures, like a sort of skeletal system; you may not know the fine details, but you do know some things will happen. And shonens? They always have happy endings. Always. Even if the MC dies, they'll do it willingly, for a Great Cause(TM), and almost certainly go with a smile, and satisfied with their life choices. If it was a manga like Berserk, it would have been up in the air, because Berserk doesn't follow the same narrative rules, and so how it ends and what not are far more open to question than something like this (ignoring that, yes, Berserk ended too).
Fundamentally, MHA will not end with Izuku miserable. It basiclly can't.
That's why I say he'll be content, because he doesn't really have the time to be miserable before MHA finishes up. At worst, he'll have a brief shown moment of sad, because he reaches acceptance, because he won't be allowed to feel otherwise.
(Yeah, this doesn't feel targeted or anything, don't worry about it. If you get something more specific to ask me or whatever, knock yourself out.)
#ask#bnha critical#mha critical#izuku deserves better#the problem in a word is 'should'#and how should is not will
45 notes
·
View notes
Note
Tbh of all the stories in Fairytales of Remnant, I think The Infinite Man is the most fascinating one bc it's such a good read into Oz's belief system (old and new), what he's asking for now, and overall character. Granted, all of the stories are, I believe, good reads into Ozpins character, cause the whole book seems to be one big character study, but The Infinite Man is so INTERESTING.
I think it's set before Oz found out Salem is unkillable and thus before he gave up on his task. And that's really interesting bc you kinda get an insight into how he thought during this time period, seemingly only doing it because it would allow him to rest and that it was the 'only thing' he was here for, aka the only thing he's worth without Salem (It's mentioned that they will "make way for the final judgement" and that, as their message spread through Remnant, "This was what he was here for, he thought. Perhaps, in the end, he would be able to rest." <- probably lying to himself, he wasn't here for the task, he was here for Salem. Without her, what is he worth?).
Also the Circle is repeatedly stated to be a mistake he made, and if he was Still working towards his task, I'm pretty sure he'd say it was his greatest achievement, not a huge mistake. Also, he acknowledges that his task isn't what people want by including in that it (at least likely) WASN'T Salem who sent people to kill him ("Did someone send you to kill me?" He asked through gritted teeth. "Your mere existence makes you a target.").
And. I just. Gestures wildly at this: "I can't help what you've heard about me." The man shot the woman a pointed look. "But in my experience, Gods are far less than the stories told about them. I assure you, I am no God, and I don't want to fight you."
ALSO loudly gestures at "Some people still worship Gods, while others insist we must be our own salvation. But the world doesn't work in absolutes, so why can't it be both?". Oz knows the world isn't black or white, he knows Gods are fallible and imperfect, and he knows humanity can accomplish great things and replace the Gods with their own creations and ingenuity [gestures at The Gift of the Moon as well as The Infinite Man].
Also. Points at Ozpins notes at the end of The Infinite Man. He's pretty blatantly asking for forgiveness, for hurting Salem and for getting people killed during his old crusade. He's trying to say that he doesn't believe in that anymore, that he knows he did wrong; he had good intentions, but he was a fool and still got people hurt.
Sorry I'm clinically insane over Ozpin. I'm gonna turn this into a post
honestly i have nothing to add to this, gotta just appreciate how the whole idea behind the fairy tale book is oz not only making a collection of fairytales that's included in the curriculum of the academies, but getting some of his friends / colleagues to record some of them as well, and then the whole thing is just. oz telling on himself in multitude of ways lmao love that for him ✌
even in the introduction of the book he's like "i have discovered in this lifelong pursuit that if you wish to fully appreciate a story, you should consider its source and attempt to unravel and understand the storyteller's intentions. why did they tell this story? why now? yes, stories may be shared for entertainment alone; however, they also can disguise lessons, moral guidance, important historic records, moon-shattering revelations—and even dire warnings of hidden dangers in the world and difficult trials yet to come." <- dude's literally telling everyone to bring an extra oxygen supply because we're going Deep with this one!!
16 notes
·
View notes
Note
i'm saying this as a trans man and someone who has watched this infighting that seems to be brewing for a long while so don't think i want to continue it further by dragging you in the mud of it all especially after seeing that you already get targeted by terfs i for one don't even follow genderkoolaid and have a lot of bad takes but i know that their good ones do circulate in my circles for things like databases for trans man hate crimes and what have you things that are invaluable to trans people to have as support in the community the baggage behind a lot of these words that get thrown around like "transandrophobia" just leave a bad taste in my mouth and i feel like if they will have any validity in academia and social justice all the theory will get ironed out in the next few years and so i just don't see any use defending THE WORD let alone THE SLUR THAT MANY USE but i think that it needs to be understood that the word """"transandrophobia"""" is not a organized school of thought with everyone attached to some discord group that has secret infighting targets and takes pot shots at trans women all i ever see is people using the word, talking about WHY THE SLUR IS A SLUR, and wanting to talk about problems trans men face without always having to use the word "misandry" because it is deeply upsetting that in so many ways we are born women, we live as women, and will never escape womanhood i feel like not being able to escape the things people perceive you as and the assumptions and fears (especially the fears people think are justified when they are very much not) are a universal trans experience and so it really hurts to just see people spot a basic word like "transandrophobia" being used in a post and deem an entire group of people bigots i see trans mascs and intersex people do the same for "tme/tma" where they just totally avoid anyone who uses these terms its tearing the community apart and making it harder to remember how much we have in common and bigots want us to be alone and defenseless like that... sorry that this was long winded, i'm sure you've heard all of this before i just felt i needed to vent because its really not about the blog its about the general way people navigate in fighting genderkoolaid is not someone i'm really willing to defend, let alone the other blogs that get tossed around that have been in heavy water so i hope i've made that clear here at the very least
hey i don't really follow what you're saying here. i'm not sure what slur the slur you're referring to is, and i'm very unclear what your point is abt transandrophobia. i'm also confused abt which intersex people u are referring to that don't like the terms tme/tma. i'm intersex and use those terms, and i've seen other intersex folks actually prefer those terms for discussions about transmisogyny because of how it shifts the focus away from very binary way that sex is talked about in the AGAB model.
this is, in general, confusing and makes me uncomfortable in ways i can't really articulate atm. i think chief among them is a kind of "but, what about me" vibe i'm getting from this at a time i am being more vocal than ever abt how transmisogyny affects me and other tma folks.
although i'm not sure what your stance on the term "transandrophobia" and the ideas behind it are, i can say that very much disapprove of it for reasons others have articulated so much better than i could. i think issues that uniquely affect trans masc folks are worth talking about, but i think the framing of conflating those issues with the way transmisogyny functions is just the wrong way to go about it. much like how "misandry" is not really a helpful way to talk abt the ways that cis men are affected by patriarchal systems, as those issues are not equivalent to the way misogyny functions. very telling that before the term "transandrophobia" was used, the same ideas were being described with the term "transmisandry"
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Faerie Fort Week Day Four -- Wings
The Start of All Things
"I'm sorry if this is a little, er— forward," Ren begins, almost entirely out of the blue. "But I had a question." Lizzie shifts so she can side-eye him, wary of the next thing that's going to come out of his mouth. She's terribly fond of her knight, but he does have a way with words— and it's not a good way, either.
"Go on," she says slowly.
"Well, it's just. Erm. Your wings," he says, ducking his head a little and gesturing to where her golden wings are spread behind her, soaking in the setting sun from the top of the Shadow Tower. "D'you ever— y'know. Use them? Because I've just noticed, I mean, that you don't do a whole lot of flying anywhere or anything. And so, I wondered. I mean, is something wrong? Are you all right, my lady? It's not an injury or anything, right—"
"Ren," Lizzie interrupts, before he can dig his hole any deeper. "I'm fine. I'm not injured. This arena just limits flight, is all. Grian's got wings, too, and he can't use them to do more than hop around, same as me."
"Oh. Oh, I see. I suppose that makes sense, fairness and all." He smiles wryly, then takes another long look at her wings. "It's just a shame, I suppose. I think you'd look terrifying if you could use them. Imagine if you went red. You'd be the Avenging Shadow Angel. You'd be tellin' everyone Fear Not all the time, if you know what I'm sayin'."
Lizzie laughs. "And then my wings would be everyone's first target," she points out. "I'm perfectly all right not being able to fly here. I'd rather everyone underestimate me."
Ren hums in agreement, and lets the subject go.
-o0o--o0o--o0o--o0o--o0o--o0o--o0o--o0o--o0o--o0o--o0o-
"Just give up, Ren! Die already!" Scott shouts from the hillside above, but Ren ignores him, charging forward. His vision is spotty, both from pain and from the multicolored potion bubbles that swirl around him— Scott is relying heavily on magic and it's taking all of Ren's concentration just to try and power through it. His blows are only half as effective, he realizes (that axe strike should have shattered Scott's shield, but it only glanced off), and he is much slower than he should be. A broken arrow dangles from his leg, its head still buried in his thigh; another hits him now as he surges up the hill, landing in the gap between his chestplate and spaulder, just below his collarbone. The impact knocks him back, but he grits his teeth and keeps going. What is another arrow, if he can win this game? What is a little pain, if he can be the last one standing?
A third arrow hits him, this time in the opposite shoulder. Ren snarls, tasting blood, as he is knocked back down the hill yet again.
Slowly, laboriously, he gets to his feet, leaning on his sword. He lifts it—
And another arrow, alight with enchanted flame, flies directly into his chestplate and shatters it, driving through his chest.
He hears Scott cheering as he collapses; finally, an injury he cannot push through. As his vision fades, he begins to see the hovering ghosts of all the other players, crowding around the site of the last battle. And there, directly above him, is Lizzie, her wings spread in their full glory, reaching out to him.
"Ah, my lady," he says, the words barely a rasp. "Just like an angel, didn't I say?" And his own spirit lifts out of his cooling corpse, and takes her hand.
(also on ao3) (prompt post)
#fool writes#faefortweek#hey look ma I wrote character death. wild :P#anyway I had fun with this one lol
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
You kinda stated the issue people are having, in bits though. There are so many brands out there that are really huge and could give you promo for a movie or whatever. Especially if you’re looking for a way to promote a movie that has a goth theme. Why would you want to associate with a weird ass brand that would do something like that for attention whether that’s what it was intended for or not? That’s what people are asking I think. Balenciaga has done some really weird and shady stuff beside the bears though. Even though it is one of the most famous brands out there, a lot of celebrities associate with them, it would sense for him to do the same to get out there I guess but only to certain point? The audience outside of rich people at this moment with everything happening with Diddy, and people like Katy Perry for example being exposed right now for being predatory or having been know to defend or heavily and very closely be associated with predators, it’s not a good move for him to be promoting this current project this way. (being this close to big scandals and all) I’m sure all the arrangements like seating and invites was already planned and done a while ago but to have all this stuff come out right as he goes to both H&M and Balenciaga events is not a good look to people who don’t understand the “behind the scenes” of their kind of jobs I guess. He most likely couldn’t just back out of something like that. As a business move right now yes it was good for him on that behind the scenes aspect of his job, like getting him more promotion and job opportunities, but in the future people who are supposed to be the targets for any kind of media related thing like press for the audience he has to do for those job opportunities probably won’t reach as well because of of his now associations with the brands. The media surrounding hollywood right now is not good, there are a lot of celebrities who are being exposed for being disgusting people and anyone who has been known to associate with them or even seen with them are being put under a microscope because people are suspicious of them. People are starting to get suspicious about some of the weird stuff Alex has done or people he’s been seen with because of all the scandals coming out right now about the industry as well. When I saw that photo of Alex and Bill with that British model or reality tv start at the “Lee” premiere I knew the conspiracy theorists would come rolling in. She was doing the Baphomet symbol with her hands in the photo and now bill is at the Balenciaga fashion show so it was just bound to happen. I’m not the anon that sent those asks so I don’t believe all the “satanic panic” stuff but I do believe that there are really bad people in the industry that have done really bad things to children and anyone they can get their hands on. It’s been a thing for years and some of them joke about it a lot which is weird but I don’t think everyone is like that. I can’t speak on Bill because I haven’t been a “fan” for long. Haven’t really followed the things outside of a few movies I’ve seen him in. But Alex is kind of a weirdo? He makes very odd remarks and jokes and seems to be a bit of a creep. Played a lot of off characters that seemed too “comfortable” to him as well, least that’s the impression I get when I come across something about him. 1/2
Sorry but after the sentence " you kinda started the issue.." I just rolled my eyes. I didn't start shit. I won't take that.
I' ll post it because you want to be heard clearly.
You are barking at the wrong tree. I don't work for that brand , I don't work for Bill , this blog is one of many out there with 0 power to demand anything from him and a multimillion dollar brand.
I'm just a poor person at the other end of the glob enjoying seeing one of her favorite actor have a good promotion season.That's it. It's not that deep.
Bill is getting all this criticism for doing what all actors do: attend to events to get more pictures so people don't forget his face and go to see his movies
Finally now that people want to cancel him for working with that shady Brand I hope they are consistent and do the same when the H&M collection drops tomorrow. They are not a good company either ... We live under capitalism, nobody does big ( real big big money) and keeps their hands clean.
And about " they do bad things under the radar " guess what ? Poor people does too. The amount of abuse of all kinds we see daily around us ... Some never pay for their action and they are as broke as everyone here.
The world is a shit hole. Welcome everybody to real life.
I have nothing else to add. Good night.
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm a c!Tommy fan and didn't mind your aspd c!Tommy post. I don't think it was ableist. I don't exactly agree with it either though but you have a right to say it and not get talked about behind your back. I'm sorry that happened. I would probably send an ask about my interpretation in the distant future once all this has calmed down and the abundance of c!Tommy asks have stopped 😅 ❤️
I really appreciate you saying that. :) I’m glad I haven’t pissed everyone off lol, whether you agree or don’t, or like c!Tommy or don't. I mean I personally don't think it's really right to talk badly about people behind their back anyways, but it certainly does feel a little unreasonable to call me dumb, crazy and delusional without even trying to have a conversation with me. What's sad is that there are points to be made and would have been interesting to discuss like an alternative diagnosis or looking more at the diagnosing criteria. Like this is not a hill I would die on, it's not my favorite analysis or take, it's just an opinion and viewpoint I shared with reasons why, the context of which was actually countering the argument of people calling c!Dream a psychopath.
And while I'm at it, I would like to note a few things. In the essay I didn't even call c!Tommy evil or ASPD evil, and I have tried to be very clear that by no means do I believe c!Tommy deserved to be abused in Exile or any other time. And in regards to the alignment chart, I really disliked that analysis anyways. It just doesn't really work. It's a simplified tool for dnd to help people stay to character, but how do you decide what is good, lawful, and evil in a story where, as I have talked about so many times, there is no true system of laws or government, and no widely accepted bounds of morality... So just to be clear, I will reiterate - no one deserves abuse, I do not think c!Tommy is "evil" or the "Bad guy" and I do not think there is a dsmp character who is. And while it may seem like I have a vendetta or am targeting c!Tommy specifically, that's just where discussion has lead recently, mostly because of the finale, anons, and also because of noticing how often c!Tommy calls c!Dream a psychopath I thought it was interesting to look at how it might be the other way around...
Also... I guess... I don't know, aren't y'all bored of having the same old discussions and takes on c!Dream, c!Tommy, c!Wilbur, c!Punz, c!Tubbo... etc over and over? Is it not fun to look at things in a different way and say - what if this is true or - that is true and how does that change things? Is it not interesting to take the same story and lore and see if it can be seen still canonically in a different way? I mean, applying diagnosis is never going to fit perfectly, not just because I'm a 23 year old autistic engineer not a psychologist of any kind, but also mostly because we only have a set chaotic few years of them to look at with no past to base on. But beyond that, isn't it fun and interesting to see if it fits, if it provides an explanation for behavior we didn't have before? Is it so wrong of me to try and see if there are fun new ways of looking at lore instead of having detailed ships and aus?...
Anyways sorry, I may have gotten carried away there, it has been a long Monday. Regardless, it is a shame that it ruined the chance for actual exciting productive conversation and discussion to happen, because I can't say I am not curious on your interpretation. Guess we will just circle back around to it (it seems to be inevitable at his point lol) <3 <3 <3
#I look forward to reading what you have cooked up when I can stand to talk about tommy again <3#hello there#(yea I may have made the mistake in reading what they said and now broke my vary own rule oops... in fairness I'm defending my honor not#writing an essay so it's different...... sorry)#crumbs#technically just to be clearly legally ASPD is not considered a disability so I’m pretty sure I can’t be ableist about it regardless….#like come on are we really to the point of calling people with actual multiple disabilities ableist because I showed how a character meets#the criteria of sociopathy?…#I feel like thats a bit far. Though I am genuinely sorry to have made anyone feel discriminated#against or hurt by what I said… your feelings are valid even if the accusation is unfitting <3 <3#clarifications#oh I'm a she and her btw. Not a guy#just to be clear so the least you can do while shiting on me behind my back would be to use the proper#pronouns I have listed right at the top ;) thanks......#(and yea I wondered if those other posts might be about me ... but I wrongly assumed you'd come talk to me like a person...#ha guess I am not always right after all ;D...)#you know what's the oddest thing of all here is how c!tommy is just a character while I am a living breathing person behind a keyboard#who does feel things and can get hurt when people bad mouth me behind my back...
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy 4th Anniversary for TW:OPT!
(Two weeks late, but better than never.)
Can't believe it has been 4 years, eh? Can't believe I'm almost one year without posting any TW:OPT related since the final episode. I don't even think I ever post a Behind the Fic for chapter 163. Sorry about that.
I honestly don't know what am I supposed to make for this year. Honestly my biggest goal is to finish all of my wip, including ideas for TW:OPT Gaiden, before moving on to Book 2.
But sometimes I even wonder whether I want to write Book 2 or not.
Don't get me wrong; I still like Twisted-Wonderland. I still love my fic. But the spark is not there anymore. And I don't know why.
I mean, I barely interact with main content of TWST nowadays. Am I overwhelmed? Maybe. Am I having a burnt out? Perhaps. Or maybe I'm just getting old. It just doesn't feel the same, but I cannot pinpoint why it is different.
There were times when I thought: "what's the point? nobody will read this anyway" and wanting to delete everything to start a new or just disappear quietly. It's not like anyone gonna miss me, right?
Which is strange. Back when I wrote TW:OPT for the first time, I don't really care about the reaction. I was writing it for funzies. I know I didn't fit the target audience with the male oc-centric, so I never expected it to pick up. I was just going to write it until I stop and abandon it like many times.
But then you guys came, dearest reader. I never expected much, so it doesn't took me by surprise. I never expected so many people to like this little story. Even now I still sometimes go back and read your comments. Those were the moments when I felt like finally I did something right.
Meet new friends who I'll always treasure them in my heart and I lost a friend, which kinda makes me afraid in commenting others' WIP, but that's another story. I feel like I learn more about writing when planning for TW:OPT that I've ever before in school. It was a good times to find something to do, especially during quarantine, might I dare to say TW:OPT was the that bring me through quarantine. It came at the right place, at the right time.
But there are times, many even, when I looked at the neighbor's grass and see that it is greener. I thought I could handle myself, but jealously will come sooner or later. Insecurities is not a nice thing. It will eat you up until it left you crumbling to your knees. And the biggest thing that annoy me is that the fact that I care. I admit I don't have the best understanding with my surrounding and can be apathetic, so I shouldn't have feel jealous or anything. I'm the type of girl who can admit defeat and knows when others can do better things than me, so why can't I accept this? I've written a lot of fic and I never expect any reaction. So why am I bothered with attention when writing TW:OPT?
There's a saying: "Above the sky there is another sky". I know that. I know there are many writers better than me. Heck, my friends are better writer than me. Do I want to be the only writer? Absolutely not! If someone as pathetic like me can find joy in writing, I'm sure many will as well! I wasn't intended to gatekeep. So why am I feeling jealous like this?
If I have to explain this the best I can, it will be maybe like this: Writing is the only thing that I can enjoy and at least have a decent skill. Even if in real life I keep this a secret, at least I can take pride by myself. And when that one thing is taken from you, what is left? If TW:OPT is my one pride, what happen when it doesn't give you the same happiness anymore?
It's a thing that I noticed. After the middle of Scarabia Arc, I don't feel as happy as I used to when writing it. It became a chore. The thing where it supposed to be a stress-reliever, was instead became the cause of stress. I was plagued with the thoughts: I need to update. I have to update. When can I write? They've waited for too long. I can't stop now. I must finish this goddamn fic. It shouldn't have take three years to complete this damn fic. Why can't I update everyday like before? What wrong with me? Am I losing my touch? Why I don't get that many attraction anymore? Do they hate my work now? Am I not as good as I thought I am? Everyone is better than me. Why can't I be like them? Are my readers disappointed in me? Are they already moving on because I took too long? No one cares anymore. Always knew that I'm irrelevant. I'm just wasting my time trying to get something that's never mine.
But I'm still clinging onto TW:OPT. I'm not ready to say goodbye just yet. I still have Book 2/Last. I promised to myself that I will write it. I want to complete it. It doesn't matter if Twisted-Wonderland continue into Year 2 or 3 or 4. My goal is to complete Year 1.
I just...I don't want to disappoint you guys. I don't want to disappoint myself. I don't want this to be an abandon project. I just want to finally complete something that I started on my own will for once in my goddamn life.
What a hubris thought, huh? I'm sorry. I must've sounded like a selfish, attention-seeking, and ungrateful little bitch, aren't I? "Write for yourself" as they would say; I don't deserve to complain like a baby. I'll stop now.
I honesty don't know where is this rambling goes. I don't think I've ever talk like this before. Sorry. This might be a bad look on me, but it has been eating in me for the longest time. Does it feel good to let it out? Maybe. Or maybe I'm not able to feel anything anymore.
I just want to be happy in writing again. I want to be optimistic in my writing again. I don't want to be jealous of others. That one spark that I had back in early TW:OPT, I need it again. I want to try again. I want to write for TWST again. There are so many WIP that I want to write before I maybe disappear again. I know I will go back to write for Book 2. But not in this state. Not in this mental state where I think will care anymore.
I just want to be happy in my writing again.
I don't know... What do I do? I can try writing more. Will it help? It won't be another futile attempt? Or am I really hopeless and never have the chance since the very beginning. TW:OPT is my peak after all. It'll only go downhill from here.
...........................................................
Okay. I'll really stop here.
Dearest reader, whoever and wherever you are, I'm sorry for not giving you much. I perfectly understand if you want to leave. But I am eternally grateful for you guys who still stays. This four years has been an experience. But thank you for being there to experience it with me.
I'm going to stop whining now. Bye for now.
#twisted-wonderland: our precious treasure#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twisted wonderland fanfic#twisted wonderland fic#twst fanfic#twst fic#the captain's rambling
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
💚🖤💖🧡 :D
Hey anon! I'm going to assume this is targeted towards the Terror fandom ✌🏻 if you were thinking about the Hornblower let me know, I'm happy to answer about that fandom too!
🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?
Tbh, I haven't yet come across a theory I don't agree with. Probably because it's based on a true story or maybe because I don't read enough of text posts. Sorry!!❤️✌🏻
💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?
This is a hard question. My favourite character is most definitely Francis, and the opinions around him are all pretty similar, and I do agree with them. So I'm going to move on on his polar opposite - Hickey. Now. He's evil, a manipulative bastard, dumbass, etc. I've seen all of that about him. And it's the truth. However, somewhere deep inside, I DO still feel sorry for him. He says at one point that he's been "abused" before (I think it was during the flogging scene). Also, in the book this scene is a bit more horrifying. In the book two other men are flogged too and they are restored to a sobbing mess, both of them "unmaned", while he stays completely silent. Now, is that silence a product of him being the bigger man or of him being used to the pain? It might be the other. At least it seemed like that to me. Moreover, I kept thinking about the fact that we never find out his actual name. He doesn't say it, not even in the end, when all is lost. Does he himself also think that his true identity doesn't matter? He takes the journey to "experience something" , "get away",and all of that makes me think that the actual man, which he used to be behind this evil mask, is a deeply hurt and forgotten human being who didn't know how to deal with pain except becoming it himself. I hope this makes some sense.
🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?
Oh damn. Franklin maybe? I think that deep inside he actually KNEW Francis was right and that he wasn't actually "stupid", it was just that his ego couldn't allow it.
💖: What is your biggest unpopular opinion about the series?
I don't think that this is that unpopular but more book scenes would have been nice.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
REACTIONS TO EPISODE 20 - ASSASSIN
The usual! Jokes, me having feelings, there's some pictures, questions... all that!
LAST EPISODE'S REACTIONS
I really want to fight these people!! LEAVE HER ALONE!!
Again, how I adore Izuku "Deku" Midoriya!! Coming to her rescue!
"It's her fault to dress up like that and wander around. People can get the wrong idea." Hm. Why does that sound so familiar?! FUCK YOU, MAN!!!!
Maybe it's me, but she is too cute!!! Like!!! Shes crying and everything and I just want to hug her and protect her!!
Dad... I mean All Might handing him the lunch... WRAPPED IN BUNNIES!!! MY HEART CAN'T HANDLE THIS!!! 😭💚🐇
AAAAAAWWWW!!!
Hey, Banjo!
IZUKU, STOP BEING SO CUTE!!!! 💚
"Please, my hero." Okay, for real, what is up with the OFA users and my feelings?
They just... okay who put these two in time out?
Banjo never not made me laugh. 🤣
YOICHI'S SMILE!!! 💚💚
THE 3RD IS SPEAKING, SHUSH!!!
THE 2ND IS SPEAKING, SHUSH!!!
I still can't believe they went to kill him and instead rescue him.
OMG, THEY GIVING US THE RESCUE SCENE!!!
... you held hands... and thus OFA started... what kind of romantic...
Nah, for real, if that's when OFA transferred it makes sense when you think about it. When it began at Yoichi and 2nd, it was weak. By the time it reached Izuku, it was so strong that it needed not only a quirkless person to handle it, but DNA from the previous user to be consumed. Over time OFA, became stronger and adaptable to the point it's almost like a sentient being with the OFA Users inhabiting its core... I need to make this a separate post...
I love the OFA Users! Looking like a rainbow! But why Nana had to be pink?
I'm joking, I actually like the shade on her!!! BUT THAT PURPLE ON EN!!! I LOVE PURPLE!!! 💜💜💜
Endeavor standing behind that pillar like that!!! 🤣
The 2nd telling Izuku things will get faster *laughs in manga reader* and Izuku biting in his food all seriously determined. Not intentional, but that is both funny and cute.
"You were the cause of everything." And Endeavor just agrees. That's hilarious. But... it was a team effort! 😃 Clap it up for Endeavor for Dabi, AFO for just being AFO, the Doctor for being very disrespectful by MESSING WITH CORPSES, Kotaro for being a crap dad...
The civilians telling the heroes to leave and they're doing just that... like they're leaving!!!
Best Jeanist catching the stuff thrown at them though.
Okay, I don't get the civilians. They're mad at the heroes for not showing up and yet when they do show up to help they're mad!! MAKE UP YOUR MIND!!
Izuku Midoriya bet not become a target... *sighs in manga reader* I hate the civilians...
"I can't let Deku carry any more burdens." 😶 This is Izuku you're talking about here.
He is so pretty.
Why they even put that man on life support?!
Gotta feel sorry for Tomura. AFO really just have been using him the whole time.
"He is obsessed with his younger brother." I mean, look at that face!! Yoichi is just so kind and pretty! I would want to protect him, too! The difference is I'm not gonna lock him in a vault and be a creep about it. I'm glad the 2nd & 3rd broke him out!!
"A lack of humanity." Yep
Again, I'm telling you, Deku is being like All Might was. Without meaning to. YOU SEE WHAT NIGHTEYE MEANT?!
Oh shit, did she just shoot his phone and a bomb at All Might! DISRESPECTFUL!!
Lady Nagant!!! Wait a fucking minute!!! HER HAIR ARE HER BULLETS?! WHAT THE HELL?!
"I'll let you keep all your limbs." Lady, he doesn't even take of his limbs like that. Your threats are so empty.
Oh, she's gorgeous!
Hey, Overhaul, how was prison?
OH SHIT THEY GOT SNIPE ON TV!!!
"I should have left him behind." Why didn't you?
I forget how damn big AFO is. Him and All Might just make everyone look like ants.
Except for that fox lady and some other folks.
I love how she just interrupts AFO. Not a lot of people have the balls, but she got brash ones.
"He was a victim..." ERI WAS THE VICTIM!! Of course, AFO wouldn't care about that because he doesn't give a damn about anyone!
He gave her Air Walk, oh nice.
And the next episode continues with the fight!!!
#kiya watches#kiya reacts#just kiya's thoughts#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha s6#bnha season 6#bnha spoilers#midoriya izuku#deku#one for all#ofa#shigaraki yoichi#2nd ofa user#3rd ofa user#lady nagant#all might
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
Voltron was the thing that really popularized the motal purity culture we see nowadays in fandom spaces but for some reason it reared its ugly head BEFORE Voltron.
all I know is that I was in a fandom for a good long while, and by 2016 it was GONE.
around 2014 people went insane with nonsensical fictional moral panic and started harassing all the big name ship artists and around 2015 most of them left the fandom behind because they couldn't deal with the constant harassment and sui baiting. by 2016 there were basically none left.
I'm talking 30+ artist, wonderful art, blogs, aus, headcanons, theories all GONE their blogs deleted and wiped
this behavior in 2012 was completely unheard of and by 2016 it destroyed my fandom. nowadays I'm lucky if the ship gets a piece of art every few months and the brave artists who do post about it still get harassed. it used to be one of the most common ships pre purity culture!! it was a booming community!!
I genuinely have no idea why and how this all started, as Voltron only came out in 2016!!!
anyway sorry for the rant the topic just made me sad and I wanted to share :(
love your blog btw!! your iz headcanons are awesome :3
I feel like early tumblr was mostly populated by teens and college students who were just recently introduced to queer feminist intersectional social justice concepts after a lifetime of sheltering in the public education system where a lot of that stuff is watered down if it's talked about at all. So you had a lot of overeager young people having their minds opened up for the first time, and then they start parroting feminist theory they heard from one person and only half-understood to other young people, and it keeps losing its nuances and having its points missed or twisted to fit into someone else's ideology and it becomes like a xerox of a xerox of a xerox the more it gets passed along.
And sometimes you'd also have people just making stuff up. Like, they have an idea or a theory, and they think they've hit upon some brilliant epiphany. And because they say it confidently and with a catchy slogan and it kinda makes sense if you don't think about it too hard, people buy it. But it's not supported by any research and if you pull at any of the threads of their logic whatever "truth" they think they divined completely unravels.
Some of those people are probably well meaning and just trying to emulate popular people that they admire who talk about SJ issues. But there's a lot of people who do it just so they can get popular and pretend to be superior to others. A lot of people intentionally set out to become social justice influencers in order to gain people's trust so they can sick them on people they don't like or target people for grooming and abuse and gaslight them into thinking what's happening to them isn't happening and if they speak out their followers will shield them and harass their victims off the internet.
All of this is exacerbated by the fact that people tend to only examine their beliefs on a surface level, so they think that just because they believe in gay rights and abortion they're woke. But the reality is, Christianity permeates so much of western civilization that whether you've ever practiced it or not you are absolutely influenced by it and a lot of distinctly Christian ideas are at the foundation of your whole way of thinking. A lot of people base their ideas of good and evil and right on wrong on their gut reactions rather than evidence of actual harm because Christianity promotes the idea that you're supposed to just know these things intuitively. A lot of people buy into the idea that exposure to "immoral" content taints and corrupts them. If you really want to look at the "immoral" stuff you can convince yourself that it's okay for you because your superior moral fortitude and enlightenment makes you immune to corruption. But you can't trust the common plebs because they're too weak-minded and impure to inoculate themselves against sinful influences, which makes it your duty to campaign to have those influences removed for their own good. A lot of people think being okay with gay sex and sex outside of marriage makes them sex-positive but they still talk about all sex and sexual expression as if it's inherently dirty and sinful and degrading and vulgar outside of a select few circumstances in which it's somehow divorced from lust to make it a pure expression of Divine Love.
And that's how you end up with the extremely toxic culture of 2010s tumblr, before the NSFW purge led to most of the people who were like this fleeing to twitter.
So yes, prior to V0ltron people were using garbage social justice arguments to attack ships for being "problematic". But also, people were using those arguments to attack anything and everyone they didn't like to make it a moral issue so their petty dislike could feel more like an objectively moral stance.
There was an entire blog dedicated to listing all the reasons why you shouldn't like this actor/writer/director/whoever, sometimes for legitimately scummy things they did, which people who stanned them might not have known about. But most of the time for really petty reasons, or stuff that was made up or interpreted disingenuously. I think the creator of that blog even admitted that she lied to herself that it was about spreading awareness and discouraging celebrity worship and parasocial relationships. It just felt good and made her feel better about herself to pick apart and find fault in other people and things that people liked and act like she was morally superior for not liking them. Or at the very least she admitted that despite her intentions that ended up being the primary purpose it was used for by the people who contributed to it and she regretted fostering that culture and getting sucked into it herself.
I think what made V0ltron different was the fact that it was so deliberate and coordinated. Like, there was an actual group of masterminds who weren't just having emotions and then using moral reasoning to justify their emotions and the inappropriate ways they were acting out over them. They were fully aware that they were co-opting SJ rhetoric and combining it with puritan rhetoric in order to demonize a totally vanilla ship in service of the righteous crusade of canonizing their own ship. And they convinced a lot of useful idiots to adopt the beliefs they were faking sincerely. And now those people are passing those beliefs along and normalizing them for the next generation and telling them not to listen to us Millennials who already went through this with the Satanic Panic/Don't Ask Don't Tell/Abstinence Only Education era.
1 note
·
View note
Text
An Impulse Decision: Chapter 36
Fanfiction.net
AO3
<-Previous chapter Next Chapter ->
Ok this chapter (along with the next 3 ones) has been posted for a while now on both of my fanfic accounts. I just forgot to post them here...Sorry about that
This chapter contains scene of an animal attack. Nothing gory but just putting it out there
----
Chapter 36: Carnivorous Nature
A squirrel ran across the forested ground. Leaves flew up into the air as they dashed by. It had barely dodged an arrow that landed mere inches away. Emerging from behind the bushes a lone Bokoblin let out a frustrated shriek, stomping its foot. It chased the squirrel through the forest. The Bokoblin leaped towards the animal to catch it, but the squirrel darted into nearby bushes at the last minute. The monster got back on its feet and followed it through the bush.
A large field with grass as tall as the Bokoblin resided on the other side. The Bokoblin saw some movement in the grass. A smug grin planted on the pig monster's face. Target is locked. It ran straight into the long grass with an excited giggle.
The long grass was dense, and the thick, tall blades made it difficult to see what was around. Anything could sneak up on it if it wanted. The Bokoblin didn't care. It was armed, so it didn't think anything would be bold enough to attack it.
A hooting sound caught the monster's attention, but it quickly brushed it off. The sound was clearly from a bird. No different from the hundreds of others it heard. At least the ones it could eat like he will do with the squirrel as soon as it finds it.
Behind the density of the grass, eyes watched the monster walking through��birdlike eyes too big to belong to any small bird the Bokoblin may know of.
The Bokoblin continued its search to no avail when he hears the hooting again. This time it was loud enough to warrant the monster's attention. Grass rustled from its side, in front, and behind, all accompanied with a curious chirp from. There was something in the field with the monster. The Bokoblin frantically searched, trying to see who was making the noise. The air went silent. The Bokoblin raised its bow, readying to attack.
A loud squawk is heard. Running footsteps echoed from behind, and the Bokoblin turned to fire its arrow.
What followed next was the sound of a loud screech and the painful screams of the Bokoblin.
Meanwhile, the same squirrel that the Bokoblin was hunting watched from the edge of the grass, running back into the safety of the forest when the Bokoblin's screams faded into the long grass.
----
The quartet of knight students strolled through the forest. They had their guard up so that they wouldn't have a repeat of yesterday with the Lynel, but things were going smoothly so far. They kept walking through a particular area where the trees & plants appeared identical.
It wasn't until they walked past a giant green mushroom a third time that Pipit got suspicious. Passing it a fifth time made Pipit abruptly stop.
"What's wrong, Pipit?" Link questioned.
"We're walking in circles!" Pipit pointed to the mushroom. "I've seen that same giant green mushroom five times!"
"There's giant mushrooms everywhere! No way that's the same one!" Link argued back.
"Actually, Master Link, Master Pipit is correct in his claim. You all have indeed walked past this area five times." Fi voiced through the sword.
"Thank you, Fi…" Link responded through his gritted teeth
"See! Even Fi knows we're lost!" Pipit proclaimed. "Did you read the map right?"
"Of course I did! The maps haven't steered us off so far. Something around here is misleading us."
"Give me one of the maps!" Pipit attempted to reach into Link's pouch.
"I know how to read a map, Pipit!" Link yelled as he tried to hold Pipit back.
"You clearly don't if we keep passing through here!" Pipit kept waving his arms.
"Get off me!"
"Just give me the map!"
"Stop waving your arms like a maniac!"
"I'm not—" Pipit suddenly felt two arms wrapped around his torso, and he was hoisted from the ground. "What the?!"
"This is not going to help us!" Fledge barked as he held onto Pipit.
"Fledge is right. Acting like toddlers is not going to help us find our way," Karane scolded the pair.
Link & Pipit lowered their limbs, giving embarrassed looks.
"Now that we got that settled, Fledge put Pipit down." The younger teen lowered the older boy back down. "You." Karane pointed at Pipit. "Stay put. You." She pointed to Link. "Give me one of the maps."
"But I—" Karane's glare cut off whatever argument Link was about to say. With reluctance, he handed her a map.
"Now then. Clearly, all this walking has been making some of us a little cranky." Both Link and Pipit's faces flushed red. "What you bot are going to do is spend the next few minutes cooling off while I try to figure out a path."
The sounds of a grumbling stomach filled the quiet space around.
"And maybe you can try to find some food in the meantime." Karane walked several steps away, muttering as she looked over the map.
"I'll try to find some food so you knuckleheads can cool off," Fledge offered.
"Hey! If anyone is a knucklehead it's him." Pipit points to Link, who looks scandalized by the accusation.
"You liar! You're just as bad-!"
Fledge grabs both of their heads and headbutts them into each other followed by a loud 'OW' as they soothe their foreheads.
"Both of you COOL IT!" Fledge stared down Link and Pipit with a peeved expression. "I'm going to look around here while we wait for Karane. You both are going to be quiet and not act like the Bickering Brothers. Are we clear?"
"Yeah."
"We're clear."
With that said and done, Fledge walked behind some trees. Leaving Link and Pipit metaphorically licking their wounds as they tried to comfort the pain.
"Nice seeing Fledge being more assertive," Pipit commented, cradling his forehead.
"Wish we weren't at the end of it…" Link responded as he rubbed his head. "But given what he did to Ghirahim, this is probably not so bad."
"I agree with you on that. If there's anything I learned through this whole thing: Angry Fledge is terrifying."
"You got that from him beating up Ghirahim?"
"From when he yelled at Groose."
Link could only answer with a low hum as the pain in his head faded.
"Hey, um, sorry about-" Pipit broke the silence but was cut off by Link.
"It's good." Link let out a breath. "I think we're all just tired."
Link's stomach rumbles in the air. "And hungry, too." Pipit quipped.
"Yeah, and that." The Hero responded with a light chuckle.
"Reminds me of this phrase I heard once: You're not you when you're hungry."
"Where did you hear that from?"
Pipit crossed both arms as he considered his answer. "I think maybe from a book, but I can't remember."
"I hope Fledge finds something and that it's safe. Everything Fi scanned so far was either make us sick, or can kill us." Link let out a dreamy sigh. "I kill for Pumm's soups right about now."
"I kill for his Pumpkin Bread." Pipit mused. "Cheap as it is, it's still delicious."
"Not as good as his Roasted Pumpkin."
"There's still his Pumpkin Stew."
"Maybe the Cheese Pumpkin."
"That's good too. Don't forget the Pumpkin Pies."
"And his Pumpkin Rice Balls."
"My favorite thing is his Pumpkin Lasagna. Farore, thinking about it just makes my mouth water."
"And the best thing The Lumpy Pumpkin has to offer: The Party Pumpkin."
"Where Pumm fills a Roasted Pumpkin with soup…"
"...And you eat the pumpkin once all the soup is out."
Link and Pipit let out a dreamy hum as they fantasized about eating the foods listed. Their fantasy ended when both let out loud, hungry growls.
"Did you find something, Fledge?!" Link called out.
"As a matter of fact, yes!" The young teen returned holding four red mushrooms the size of an adult's hand.
"Mushrooms?" Pipit stuck his tongue out. "Why them?"
"They didn't look like the poisonous ones we've seen They remind me of the Skyshrooms that we eat. That, and they didn't shake weird stinking mist like the big red one from earlier."
Link glance at his sword on his back. "Are these safe, Fi?"
"Master Fledge holds Surfaceshrooms. A non-poisonous mushroom that is safe to eat. You made an excellent observation, Master Fledge."
"Thank you, Fi," Fledge said with a slight flattered flush.
"I see you found our dinner," Karane said, returning to the guys. "And I think I may have figured out how to get us not lost."
"How so?" Link inquired.
"I think what we ought to do is leave marks of sorts. That way, we can know if we're on the same trail."
"There are plenty of things around this forest that we can use. Branches, rocks, maybe even those pinecones." Link quickly glanced at the area around them.
"That's exactly what I was thinking too. Hopefully it will make it harder for us to get lost. Now another thing I wanted to bring up-"
Branches snapping caused the group to flinch. They perked their heads to listen. Sure enough, they heard footsteps and the grunts of familiar monster enemies.
"Hide!" Link commanded.
The quartet ducked behind some nearby trees. A Moblin waltzed into the clearing with a line of a dozen Bokoblins trailing behind it. The Moblin stopped and grunted something at the Bokoblins, who then dispersed. Each one searched around their own little spot.
"Our old friends. How nice…" Link muttered sarcastically. He scanned them. "Seems like they're searching for something."
"Us?" Karane guessed.
"I don't think so. If they were, they would be charging over now."
"Maybe we should keep it that way, eh?" Pipit suggested.
"Probably should," Link agreed. "Let's move back. Quietly."
The quartet proceeded to walk back slowly, watching their step so that they didn't walk on anything loud. Fledge had been doing that, still holding the four Surfaceshrooms in his arms. Until he felt a sudden stinging pain in his body, causing him to let out a groan and put the rest of the group on alert. The realization came to him to what was happening.
"Fledge? What's wrong?" Link hastily asked.
"Potion…wearing off." Another stab of pain struck through Fledge, causing him to drop the mushrooms. That caught the attention of the lead Moblin, who started dead straight at the humans. It blew into a horn to alert the other Bokoblins, pointing them in the humans' direction.
Link dash to Fledge, placing the boy into arms. "RUN!"
The teens made a break for it in the woods, with Link carrying Fledge in his arms. Behind them, they could hear the stampede of the Bokoblins and the thunderous ones from the Moblin. Amidst the running, both parties failed to see an arrow lodged into the ground.
"This…hurts." Fledge groaned as he cradled himself.
"Hang in there, buddy." Link assured him.
"They're gaining on us!" Pipit bellowed out.
"We can't keep running! We need to hide," Karane shouted.
The group runs past a large bush. Ahead of them was a field of grass that was as tall as them.
"In the long grass!" Link commanded.
The humans ran into the long grass, moving into the deeper parts. They stopped once they were far enough. They could see the Moblin and his subordinates emerging from the treelines at the forest's edge.
"Duck!" Link hissed.
All of the knight students moved below the grasslands to cover themselves. They could hear the monsters enter the field of long grass. Link placed Fledge into the ground, and Karane reached into her pouch to pull out a Red Potion bottle, hastily uncorking the lid. Fledge took the bottle and drank all its contents.
"You okay?" Link asked.
Fledge swallows the last drop of the potion. "I will be now." He panted.
"Keep it down. They're close," Pipit whispered.
"We need to get out of here." Fledge tried to move but Karane pushed him back down.
"You need a few minutes for that potion to settle in. Otherwise, you'll re-aggravate the pain," Karane instructed firmly.
The quartet stayed ducked below the grass. They could hear the monsters walk past them. From their point of view, they could only see the heads of the Bokoblins that formed a line behind the larger monster. The Moblin towers over the grass levels. The monsters move deep into the field, walking by the quartet's hiding spot without knowing it.
"Okay, we wait for them to move deep into the field. Once Fledge is better, we sneak out of here and go back straight into the woods," Link instructed.
The rest nodded in agreement. They resumed watching the monsters, who slowly moved further away. Something else caught Pipit's attention in the corner of his eye. Lying not too far was a sizeable singular bird feather. Curious, he reached over to grab it.
"What is it?" Karane noticed Pipit's shift in behavior.
"Look at this feather." Pipit held it up to show to the others.
"Babe, I don't think this is the right time for you to be a bird nerd."
"I know but look...if I can guess right, it's been freshly plucked. "
"A Loftwing feather?" Link questioned
"Not any I've seen in this color. And look at the size of it." Pipit's eyes then caught something else. He crawled over to the other end from where he was sitting. The others looked to see what caught Pipit's attention. There was a large footprint with three toes in the front, and one in the back.
"That looks like a Loftwing footprint," Karane observed.
"It can't be a Loftwing. It's too small." Pipit placed his hand next to the footprint, greatly dwarfing his own. "But it's still big. What kind of bird is this, I wonder?"
"I think one that did this…" Everyone turns to see Fledge holding a sizable skull of an unknown creature.
Link suddenly feels that the monsters may not be the only things in the grass with them. He sets his sights on the feather in Pipit's hand. "Fi, what animal is this feather from?"
"Phoru Birds…"
"A what?'
A grim pause followed. Something Fi has not done before.
A loud bird squawk rang in the air. The teens went silent. That did not sound like the majestic Loftwings, the cute Chirris, or the pesky Guays. Sounds of footsteps scurried past their hiding spot. Footsteps that sounded too large to be a Chirri or a Guay. The group was on alert.
"Fi?" Link whispered with an urgent tone.
"Masters, listen to me. For the next few minutes, it is imperative that you do not make a sound and do not move! And do not move above the grass lines!"
None of them questioned her any further. The urgency in her voice did not put them at ease. All they can do is watch the unaware monsters.
The Moblin continued to lead its charge while the rest of the Bokoblins continued looking. They looked through the grass, barking at each other if they suspected one was slacking. Doing all of this certainly made them loud.
Which caught the attention of a new set of eyes. The eyes did not belong to humans but were birdlike.
The creatures' feathery heads peeked over the grass at a far enough distance for the monsters not to see them. The grass allows these animals the perfect cover due to their feathers allowing them to blend in. The monsters were none the wiser of the new sets of eyes watching. One of the creatures made a sound that resembled a low whistle, sending a signal to the rest of its kind of their newfound meal before ducking back down. Then they slowly stalked the red intruders starting with the line.
The Bokoblin at the end of the line was the first to go down. Then came down a second, quickly followed by a third just ahead. Then a fourth. When the fifth went down, the remaining Bokoblins scrambled around in an attempt to escape.
Meanwhile, the quartet of knight students watch with confusion & fear as they see the massacre play out.
"What's happening?" Fledge wondered.
"Somethings attacking the Bokoblins!" Pipit stated
"But what?" Karane questioned.
For better or for worse, the teens got their answer when a piercing birdlike screech pierced the air. That's when they witnessed a bird creature as tall as a fully grown human male, at least, leap into the air towards one of the Bokoblins, who could only scream in fear as the animals pounced on it, turning its scream into a gargle followed by the bird's beak digging into its flesh.
"That must be the Phoru Birds," Link confirmed.
The symphony of death continued to play out. One by one, the remaining Bokoblins fell victim to the giant birds. It played in the same tune: A Bokoblin gets pulled down, followed by its scream, and finally, the piercing silence of death. The carnage continued until the Moblin was the only one standing.
At least a dozen Phoru Birds stuck their heads above the grass surrounding the obese monster. From their hiding spot, the teens finally got a good look at the creatures that had attacked the Bokoblins. These birds are vastly different from the Loftwings commonly seen throughout the skies.
Their feathers were a mix of dull brown's, greys, and whites. Not colorful like the Loftwings. The Phoru's were smaller than Loftwings but only by a mere few feet, and they were still considerably more taller than the teens. Their wings were tiny compared to the Loftwing's massive wings. Could the Phours even fly with wings that size? Their oval beaks were short but sharp in a hook shape, unlike the long, rounded beaks that the Loftwings had.
And unlike the friendly nature of the Loftwings, the Phorus appeared to be downright terrifying. Link thought that 'Terror Bird' would be a more fitting name. If Loftwing's were angels, Phorus could serve as their demon counterparts.
The Moblin stood its ground against the giant birds that stalked over. Bracing its shield & steadying its spear, it readied itself for the attack. The first of the Phorus made a leap but got knocked away by the Moblin's shield. Several more Phoru Birds attempted to strike at it from the front but the monster used its shield to block them. Though the Moblin had the advantage of offense & defense, the Phorus had the advantage of numbers. And camouflage. As the Moblin ward off its attackers at his front side, more Phoru's ran around the monster. The Phoru's feathers allow them to camouflage into the grass, practically becoming invisible. The Moblin could not see any of the birds, leading it to strike its spear into the surrounding grass only to hit nothing. The Phorus were fast ones. Able to be at one spot one second and a far distance the next. The Moblin could not tell how many were around.
That was all the Phorus needed for what they did next.
A Phoru leaped from behind the Moblin. Using its sharp talons, it landed on the monster's shoulders. The claws dug into its skin, drawing a dark liquid substance that could be the monster's own blood. The Moblin tried to fight it off but the giant bird kept its grip. The Phoru struck its beak into one of the Moblin's eyeballs, and a trail of strange purple substance flew into the air from the Moblin's eye as the Phoru leaped back to the ground. The Moblin uttered a painful scream, dropping its shield to cover its eye socket. More of the purple liquid poured out through the cracks of its hand.
Despite one eye gone, the Moblin continued to fight off the birds, who retaliated back with one strike from their beaks or their talons on their feet. They struck with ferocity and speed, barely leaving The Moblin a chance to catch its breath. Every strike was more painful than the last to the Moblin. And then the Moblin felt a new searing pain on its belly.
The shock caused the monster to drop the spear. It now used its free hand to feel the area of the pain. Its hand touched something warm. The Moblin's remaining eye widened with fear when it realized that what he was holding was supposed to be inside of him. The rest of the Phorus jumped in to commence the attack and begin to feast on the monster.
All four of the knight students could watch in silence as the giant birds brutally pulled apart the monster. Jumping all over to get a bite, the birds fought over their own scraps without a flinch. All the while, the monster screamed in agony for many long minutes until it finally died down. For those brief minutes, the teens almost felt bad for the Moblin.
The Phorus were nothing like the Loftwings the teens had known. Loftwings were always gentle, friendly animals. They would never resort to brutal methods, even the Loftwings that acted like jerks like Groose & Cawlin's. Loftwings can kill Skytails, Aeralfos, Aerocudas, and even people if they pose a big enough threat to themselves or their human half. Otherwise, they try to avoid those threats and would certainly never go out of their way to hurt them. And when they have to take out those threats they're swift & quick about it.
These birds here, however, were no such thing. They ended the monster's life brutally. And the teens were still in the grass with the birds. Judging by what they saw they did to the Bokoblins and the Moblin, they can only imagine what the Phorus will do to them.
They need to get out of there.
"Fledge?" Link whispered
"Yes?"
"Has the potion settled in?"
"I believe so."
"Good. Then I need all of you to run."
"Now?" Fledge questioned.
One of the Phorus moved away from the Moblin carcass as the rest of its kind fed. It swallowed a chunk of the flesh when it looked in the teens' direction, curiously tilting its head to the side. They could not tell if the bird was staring right at them. It ducked into the grass. Link felt his heart skip a beat when he saw the grass shifting in his direction.
"Run now!"
The quartet ran as fast as their legs could move. Link trailed behind his line of friends, keeping his eyes locked on all of them. Behind him Link could hear the sounds of something running towards them. He could feel his heart beating against his chest, sweat forming on his head. The closer the running got, the more his fear grew. The fear was replaced with relief when he ran back to the edge of the forest line. He glances to see his friends, tired out but all accounted for. Link let out a breath of relief.
Something tapped his ankle, causing Link to let out a shriek and jump into the air. His friends prepared their stances, anticipating a fight.
What they saw was a Bokoblin crawling out of the grass. Gashes of its oozing purple blood littered all over its body. It let out tired grunts as it slowly tried to crawl out. The Bokoblin's eyes widened with fear as it felt a hard tug. Something behind the grass line pulled the monster back in. The Bokoblin shrieked, digging its finger into the dirt, leaving drag marks as it was pulled back in. It disappeared back into the grass, screaming until it went quiet. The teens all stood frozen, gaping at the grass as they saw a bird head stood over the grass lines.
The Phoru's cold eyes stared straight at the humans, beak covered with the purple blood. It seemed curious about the group. It let out a low squawk that seemed reminiscent of Loftwings. The giant bird ducked its head back in the grass after staring at the humans, presumingly eating the Bokoblin.
Link glances at his sword. "Fi. What can you tell us about this…Phoru."
"Phoru Birds are a species of large carnivorous birds. Their wings are too small for them to fly, but they make up for it with their strong legs, sharp talons, and piercing beaks. They prefer to hunt in tall grasslands. Unlike the Loftwing's gentle nature, these birds are aggressive. However, they stick to long grasslands and will not follow you beyond them. I advise that you all stay away from fields of tall grass unless you have the tools to handle these creatures."
"Stay away from the long grass. Got it," Link summarized.
"A bird that cannot fly…" Pipit mused, observing the bird with interest. "That is something I had never heard of in my life."
Pipit attempted to move closer to get a better look, only to be stopped by Fledge's firm grip.
"I think you should probably admire them far away," Fledge suggested in an unsettled tone.
The Phoru made a slurping sound. Then teens watch the giant bird suck in a stringy substance like a noodle, but they know it wasn't a noodle.
"Yeah, you're probably right, Fledge," Pipit meekly agreed.
The teens speed-walked back into the forest. Leaving the Phoru alone to eat its meal.
----
"That was fun..." Karane sarcastically stated once the group felt they were a safe enough distance away from any monsters. And giant killer birds.
"I'll say." Link breathed out, resting his hands on his knees. "And I thought the Lynel was terrifying."
Pipit let out a shiver. "Don't remind me. I can still smell its breath…"
"Is it weird that I felt bad for those monsters?" All eyes turn to Fledge. "Don't get me wrong, they're still mindless, psychotic assholes, but hearing those screams, and what those birds did to that Moblin…I wouldn't wish that on anybody. Not even Ghirahim." Fledge's fingers touch the diamond scar.
Pipit crosses his arms. "Could we even call them birds? They can't fly, and they all attacked so brutally. They're nothing like Loftwings! They were more like monsters."
"The Phorus are not monsters. They're birds just the same as Loftwings," Fi's chime rang loudly. "Not all bird species behave the same as Loftwings. The Phorus, along with many animals, do not have the same sense of empathy & morality as humans. "
"Why would the Goddesses create something like the Phoru?"
"All the Goddesses did was bring life to them. Everything else was a production of natural evolution. No involvement of divine intervention. All living species, including humans, have one goal: survival. How they do it makes each living species different. Humans are intelligent enough to determine what is right & wrong. Most animal species do not have the same mindsets. The Phoru & Sabertooth Lions kill because they are carnivorous. They need to eat other animals, and monsters to live. And the herbivores, like the Grassland Horses & Land Buffalo, kill for defense. Monsters kill for fun. Animals do it to protect themselves & to survive. That is how nature is."
"Doesn't mean we want to see nature in action," Karane commented. "Like I didn't need to know what the insides of Moblins were like. At least it might kill my appetite for food." Her stomach chose that moment, as if it was part of some sick practical joke, to grumble. "Oh who am I kidding! We still need to find food!"
"Too bad I lost those mushrooms. We're right back to square one," Fledge lowered his head, clearly disappointed with himself.
"Don't beat yourself up. It wasn't your fault." Pipit patted Fledge's shoulder. "We'll just have to find something else…"
Everyone skims around the forested area. As the three searched on the ground, Link glanced upwards. In a small clearing in the trees, he saw what appeared to be a trail of smoke.
"I think I know where to start." The other three glance at the smoke trail. They grasped what Link was thinking. Where there's smoke, there's fire, like a fire pit that was built. The quartet strolled in the direction of the smoke trail.
A campsite soon came into their view with several familiar poorly constructed tents.
"Looks like one of the monster camps back in Eldin," Fledge pointed out.
"I can only guess who this belonged to," Karane said with an unsettled expression.
"Unless they left friends to watch it," Pipit nudges Link.
"Fi?" Link called out.
"I detect no monsters in the area. The camp is clear," Fi answered.
"Good." Link starts walking to the Monster Camp.
"Where are you going?" Pipit asked.
"There could be something useful in that camp, like food." Link said with a sheepish expression, "I mean, it's not like anyone's using it…."
"It can't hurt to look around," Fledge suggested. "Also, a free place to spend the night. Hehe…" Pipit & Karane only gave bewildered expressions at him.
The four entered the camp. All evidence showed that this camp was recently inhabited, most likely by the monsters taken down by the Phoru birds. At first glance, all the teens could see were jagged weapons, a garbage pile of bones & rotten eaten fruit with flies buzzing around, and the Bokoblin's outlandish underpants scattered around the camp.
"What a charming place they have here. I can see Bokoblins and Moblins care about cleanliness," Karane commented sarcastically.
"And I thought Groose's room was messy," Link scrunched his nose.
One of the Bokoblin's undies hanging from the top of one of the tents fell onto Pipit's head. The yellow-clad senior knight yelped in surprise, frozen in place at the shock of what landed on him like he was traumatized. After several long second, he blew a small gust of air out of his hand to remove the fabric,
"I hope that was clean…" Pipit quavered with unease.
The underpants floated down in the center of the camp. Residing there, the group could see the large fire pit, which was the source of the smoke. Something else was also there with it. Hanging above what looked to be a large object with a brown leathery surface.
"What is that thing?" Fledge wondered. "Is that some sort of Bokoblin decoration? It smells odd."
"Probably more of their trash," Karane suggested, kicking more rotten, chewed-up fruit.
Link examines the weird object. "I don't think it's either. It reminds me of how Henya would make her Copious Mushrooms. She always puts them on sticks."
"Are you saying that the monsters were…cooking this?" Pipit inquired. Link answered with an uncertain nod. "Why would they cook their decor or garbage?"
Fi's chime rings in the air. "That's because it is neither. What you see right here is meat from fully grown Male Surface Deer."
"Deer? You mean those cute, furry, four-legged animals with little black noses and small tails?" Karane asks for clarification.
"The very same, Master Karane. Monsters tend to be carnivorous, like the Phorus & Sabertooth Lions. It is likely that they intended to eat this meat here. However, the monsters prefer to cook their meat. I hypothesized that's what these monsters were doing with this one when they searched the woods for whatever reason before what happened to them in the long grass field."
Stomach grumbles reach the air yet again, this time from Fledge. "We deprived the monsters of their last meal, but we should probably keep looking for our next one, or those ration bars will be our last."
"I'm sure there's something around here for us." Pipit declared, moving to the side to look.
Link was about to search independently when he decided to look back at the meat. He started at it for who knows how long.
The scene around him suddenly changed.
Instead of the Monster Camp, he found himself sitting at a table. The room he was in was large, with very nice carving on the walls. He was wearing the same uniform, the red scarf included. Footsteps caught his attention. Walking to the table was Hylia, holding what appeared to be a large, freshly cooked meat dish.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting, Link," Hylia said apologetically.
"Not at all, Hylia," Other Link, whom Link is going to dub him as since they shared the same name, said back. He gave a sniff. "That smells great!"
"I do hope it tastes just as much." Hylia set the dish on the table, cutting a piece of the large meat to put on Link's plate. Link watches the hands of Other Link cut a small piece of his slice with his fork & knife and eat it. Hylia watches curiously. "Be honest, how is it?"
"This is delicious!" Other Link proclaimed happily, taking more bites of the meat.
"Slow down!" Hylia warned. "I don't want you to throw it up now!"
Other Link used his hand to wipe his mouth. "Apologies. I couldn't help myself. This is wonderful food you made. I never knew you could cook."
"I used to cook a lot to help the humans a long time ago. Over time, they insisted that they do it more often. I would often cook for my proteges until they were old enough to do it themselves," Hylia explained. "I don't cook as often as I want to."
"Well, you should, 'cause this is great!" Other Link said in between bites. "What is this stuff? How do you make it this good?"
"I used spice that were handmade by the Gorons. They're the top experts on spices. As for the meat, it's from the biggest & strongest buck."
"Where did you find this buck? My sister hasn't had any luck finding any deer on her hunts."
"You would have to ask Impa…I asked her to hunt it," Hylia revealed with a sheepish smile. "Hunting is not something I'm good at…"
"A goddess who's a master sword fighter and a wonderful cook but can't hunt?" Other Link summarizes with an amusing tone.
"Just because I'm a goddess doesn't make me omnipotent."
"I never said you were. Don't worry, I won't judge."
Other Link finished up the rest of his plate, letting out a loud burp. He covered his mouth, feeling the heat of a blush grow. Hylia didn't seem phased and only let out a snort. Other Link relaxed his stance.
"Now this was a birthday surprise I enjoyed."
"Thank you, Link. But…that's not the only gift I got for you."
"Oh?"
Hylia reached into one of her dress's pockets, pulling out a box with wrapping paper and a neatly tied ribbon, offering it to Other Link. He took the present and removed the paper. Underneath was a box with a lid. In the box, a necklace with a silver chain and a crescent moon pendant lay.
"This looks lovely," Other Link complimented.
"Thank you." A pregnant pause after Hylia answered. "I…actually have a similar necklace." The Goddess reached behind her neck, pulling out a necklace with a gold chain and a sun pendant. "I had that made from the same place I got this. And if you put them together they fit." Hylia moved her sun necklace, prompting Link to move his moon one. Their pendants overlap, with the moon perfectly fitting inside the sun.
"May I ask what got you the idea for this?" Other Link leaned in, interested in Hylia's reasoning. "I can't imagine this here is a mere simple gesture of friendship."
"People have often regarded me as the sun, the bringer of Light. Many believe that the sun and moon are two halves of the same thing—opposites who are similar, equal partners. And I think you are a perfect example of the moon."
"Because I'm a night owl who stays up late and becomes a sleepyhead during the day?" Other Link lightly quipped.
Hylia chuckled in response. "That's part of the reason. But mostly because, like the moon, you shine a light even in the darkest nights. Sun & Moon may differ, but they are equals serving the same purpose. To bring light, no matter how black the darkness is. I am a Goddess, and you are a simple mortal, yet we serve the same purpose: To protect those who cannot protect themselves. I've met some extraordinary humans during the centuries I've been alive. But none come as close as you, Link. No one has the balance of courage, wisdom, and power you have. I would be proud to call you my equal. The moon to my sun."
"I…I do not know what to say. What could I say in response to those kind words?"
"Maybe simply accept them?" Hylia gave a warm smile.
"I shall not disappoint you," Other Link bowed his head.
"You could never."
Other Link lifted his head, returning his gaze to the moon necklace. He then placed the jewelry around his neck. "How do I look?" He asks Hylia.
"Handsome," The Goddess replied without hesitance. Her boldness was replaced with embarrassment once she realized what she had said, turning her face flush with red. "Forgive my boldness! I don't know what came over me!"
"It's alright!" Other Link gave a nervous, good-hearted chuckle. Silence lingered for a bit afterward until he spoke again. "So, um, you want to finish this dish with me. I don't think I could eat all of this."
"Aryll told me otherwise. She once told me you ate a fully grown boar in one sitting."
"You know my little sister tends to exaggerate sometimes. I'm not that big of a glutton. And I'm willing to share, especially with you, since you did cook this."
"Very well then." Hylia took the utensils to start cutting the pieces again, giving Other Link & herself pieces of the deer. "Happy Birthday again, Link."
"Link!"
The Green Clad Hero was brought back to reality. Once again, Fledge called out to him, giving the hero a concerned look.
"Are you okay, Link?" Fledge asked. "You were just standing here looking at the meat. Is there something going on?"
"I was just…thinking," Link insisted.
"About where to find food, I hope," Karane joined in as she & Pipit walked out from the tents. "We haven't found anything here we could eat."
"All we found is already eaten rotten fruit," Pipit said, kicking another piece of an apple core.
"We'll just have to go back to the woods to look."
Link thought back to the vision, where Other Link and Hylia were eating the meat dish that Hylia herself had cooked. She mentioned that the meat was from a deer, much like the one cooking above the firepit right now.
"We could...Or," His three friends turn to Link. "Or we could…"
"Could what?" Fledge pressed on.
Link pointed to the meat. "...Eat this."
"WHAT?!" The trio of his friends gaped at Link as if he had just grown another head.
"You can't be serious, Link!" Pipit shouted. "That's from an animal! Like a Loftwing!"
"Well it's not Loftwing, is it?" Link snarked back.
"N-No, I suppose not…" Pipit crossed his arms. He leaned in. "Even still, could we eat something like that? That could be poisonous to us for all we know."
"Actually, Master Pipit, you should be able to eat it," Fi said through the sword.
"What? How?"
"Humans are biologically omnivorous. They can eat not only vegetation but also meat."
"We could do that?" Karane muttered in quiet amazement, holding her stomach.
"You can't eat the meat in its natural state like most fruits and vegetables, but you can cook it like this one right here. Based on my scans, this meat is cooked to the right state for consumption. And it is free of germs of any type, so it would be safe. Whatever you decide, I suggest you decide now before the meat gets overcooked or attracts predators. I personally recommend that you all eat it like Master Link suggests."
"Are we really considering doing this?" Karane fretted.
"We're talking about eating an animal here," Pipit said in an unsettled voice.
"Well, the deer is dead, so I don't think it would hold it against us." Link realized his tone may have come across as harsh. He let out a breath and softened his expression. "I don't like this as much as you guys. If there was a field of pumpkins nearby, I would take those over this. But what choice do we have? Either we eat this, or we keep looking around until possibly we collapse from hunger."
"He does have a point, guys…" Fledge admitted. "We're all starving. What other options do we have?"
Taking in Fledge's words, Pipit and Karane realize that Fledge is speaking the truth. They turn to Link, whose face shows they are compliant with his idea.
They all help move the meat away from the fire pit. After quickly cleaning the Master Sword with water, Link cuts the meat into four equal-sized slabs. All four have their own share of the meat. Everyone has a reluctant look on their faces. They had never eaten anything like this before. Some appear to be on the verge of changing their minds until another sound of a rumbling stomach catches their ears.
Link gave a gulp. "Here goes nothing."
He dug his teeth into the meat, biting off a chunk, chewing it while getting used to the bland taste of the leathery food, before finally swallowing it.
Pipit, Karane, and Fledge, respectively, followed suit. Like Link, they also had a hard time trying to adjust to the new food. Fledge almost choked on his piece because he didn't chew it enough due to its thickness. Karane's face was constantly cringing since she wasn't used to this type of food. Pipit did everything he could not to gag out the food when chewing and looking as if he used all of his strength just to swallow it alone.
A prolonged amount of minutes passed when they finally finished eating their meat. Link checked on all of his friends to see how they handled it. All three of them, plus himself, had blood on their mouths. He thought back to the Sabertooth Lions & the Phoru Birds. The image of blood on their mouths. Blood that wasn't theirs but from what they had killed & eaten. For that brief moment, they were no different from the carnivorous animals.
At least they have full bellies for the time being.
----
The teens sat in the biggest tent of the Monster camp, which was more than likely made for the large Moblin leader. Night had already fallen, and they decided they could use this camp for shelter for the night. That and they wanted the meat to settle in their bodies without risking triggering any digestive problems.
"Safe to say I think our bodies are handling the meat well," Karane declared. "Much better than I thought."
"I'd rather take my chances with mushrooms from this point…" Pipit made a gagging expression. "It was so leathery and…juicy. Is that normal? Because I feel like it shouldn't."
"I don't think it wasn't that bad," Fledge meekly admitted.
Karane gave him an odd look. "You…actually like that stuff?"
Fledge shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not saying it's the best thing I've eaten, but I think it could've been better. That meat wasn't as bad as it looked."
"I kinda liked it too," Link spoke up.
"...Maybe it could've used some rock salt," Karane unexpectedly confessed.
"You guys are talking as if you planned to do it again," Pipit said, surprised by his friend's words.
"The possibility is pretty much on the table now." Link argued.
"I rather hope it doesn't." Pipit crosses his arms, glancing away.
The other three stare at him with concern.
"Are you okay, Pipit?" Link asked with concern. "You usually don't get so worked up over food.
"Even with mushrooms too," Fledge added.
"I'm fine…" Pipit breathes out. "...I'm just not used to the idea of killing an animal just to eat it. I tried not to, but I kept imagining that we were eating a Remlit or a Loftwing. I get why we had to. We did it because we had no choice, but I felt guilty. That meat was from a deer. A harmless animal. I don't think it did anything wrong, and I doubt it was hurting the monsters. And the fact we're able to eat it is just...I can't wrap my head around that." Pipit buried his head into his face. "I sound crazy for saying this, don't I?"
Fi's familiar chime rang in the air. "You are not crazy at all, Master Pipit." She hovered over him. "From what I gathered, the food of Skyloftian society is strictly vegetarian. You've all been accustomed to it all of your lives. I don't think it would be a shock if you couldn't comprehend the idea of eating meat, much less not being fond of it like you, Master Pipit. You have an immense fondness for Loftwings. I 100% percent believe that your feelings are valid. But you should not feel guilty for fulfilling a basic human need."
"Doesn't make it easier."
Fi was quiet for a minute before speaking up. "Perhaps I should tell you something. Something I am 95% sure that you would be interested in hearing. Over a thousand years ago, humans ate meat often."
That got all of the group's attention.
"They did?" Pipit questioned.
Fi nodded. "In the age of Hylia, humans, your ancestors, had meat as part of their diet. They ate it as often as you ate vegetables. In their case, they had both options. Some ate more meat. Some had more vegetables. Often, they eat both just the same. When Hylia created Skyloft and the major sky islands, the humans had minimal resources. Vegetables were the most substantial food they could maintain, so they sacrificed their option to eat meat, and it's been that way for the next one thousand years."
"They never taught us that in school," Link commented.
"More than likely because sacrificing a meat diet also means losing any knowledge of eating it," Fi retorted to Link. "My point is that humans are designed by the nature of the Goddesses. A thousand years of not eating meat doesn't eliminate the biological capability to consume it. You should not feel guilty for something natural."
"But why should such a need exist to begin with? Why would the Goddesses create certain animals to eat others? Why not make all creatures plant eaters?"
"Nature is a complex network. Every living being has their role to play in it." Fi had a pregnant pause. "Let me ask you all these questions to help you better understand. Skyloft has a community garden, correct?"
The teens nod their heads. "And those gardens are tended to?" Fi pressed on.
"Yeah," Pipit responded back.
"What happens if they're not?"
"The plants may issues growing," Fledge answered.
"Right, and how often should you tend to the garden?"
"Enough to ensure it's well cared for," Karane answered.
"Right again. What methods do you use to tend to it?"
"We water it, trim it, and apply new soil every so often," Link explained. We help out every once in a while. It's pretty basic stuff."
"Do you put in new soil every day?" Fi asked Link.
"Well, no."
"What about trimming?"
"I think at least once a week."
"And the watering?"
"Once a day."
Fi turns to the group. "Here's my next question for you four: What happens when you do these things more than necessary? Could the plants grow like they're supposed to?"
"What would happen is…the plants could have issues." Link told her.
"And if they get worse?"
"…They die."
"And what measures do you have to prevent such a thing?"
"A lot of things!" Karane interjected. "You need to keep in check when you last did the certain need for the plant. Keep track of their growth. Chop off dead stems. Pull out any sick plants so the rest don't get infected. Keep in mind the time of year. A whole lot of factors." Karane let out an exaggerated breath. "Sorry. When you have someone like Owlan as an adoptive dad, you learn many things about plant care."
"All of those are good answers, Master Karane."
"What does a tending to a garden have to do with nature?" Pipit abruptly inquired to Fi.
"Nature on The Surface is basically a garden. And like all gardens, it must be tended to. You can already see the abundance of plant life here. The herbivores such as Grassland Horses, Land Buffalo, Deer, and many more do their part in tending to it by eating the plants so they don't overgrow. But then their numbers grew. You have more mouths to feed. If there are too many, there won't be any plants left. To combat this problem, carnivores such as the Sabertooth Lions & Phoru Birds are added. They basically…keep things in check with the herbivores."
"And they do it by eating them?" Pipit concluded.
"Previously, Master Pipit. Omnivores such as humans also play their part with the plants and hunt animals to eat them. All of these necessities are part of keeping nature in balance—the circle of life, as I like to call it."
"I guess that makes sense." Pipit massaged his head with his hand.
Fi gave him a gentle look. "I don't expect you to not fully understand it. This is all new to you. Don't feel guilty for fulfilling a natural need if the situation calls for it again."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Fi returned back to the Master Sword.
"All of that stuff Fi told us sounded so interesting," Fledge remarked. "I never knew about any of that. All that stuff about the circle of life sounded so interesting. Who knew it could be that complex?"
"I'm still reeling from the fact that we're capable of eating meat," Karane addressed. "This is a whole discovery altogether!"
Link pointed out, "Wouldn't it be technically a re-discovery since our ancestors did it long ago?"
"You know what I mean! Historical records before Skyloft are so limited. There could be more information about our ancestors' time down here than all of the libraries found in the island settlements!"
A loud yawn caught everyone's ears. "While that sounds exciting, I would like some shut-eye for now." Pipit lays down on his side.
Fledge let out a yawn of his own before laying down too. "I'm pretty tired as well. I should get some sleep, too."
Karane had almost followed Fledge's lead in lying down when she felt a grip on her shoulder. "Link?"
"Can I ask you something?" Link asked.
"Uh, sure. What is it?"
"...How much do you know about The Age Hylia?"
"The Age of Hylia?" Link nods. "Maybe a decent amount, but what exactly do you want to know?"
"Was there ever somebody Hylia worked with closely? Like, say…a chosen hero?"
"I'm not sure about that…" Karane queried. "I do recall hearing some accounts of a man that was often by Hylia's side, but those are from legends. There's no way to determine if they're true or not. Why do you want to know?"
"Well, um…" Link stammered, not wanting Karane to worry about the weird visions. "On the Wing Ceremony, Zelda told me that the goddess had a chosen hero to whom she gave a sailcloth."
That was not a total lie.
"Oh, I see," Karane lowered her eyes.
"I know it's a random question, but I was thinking about things, and I remember that Zelda told me that…"
"I miss her too…" Karane gently held Link's shoulder.
Link took a deep breath. "What else can you tell me about this hero."
"He fought like no other mortal human. According to legend, he was considered Hylia's equal. On the battlefield, they fought together with a ferocity and grace that couldn't be described. Many accounts describes them to be close comrades. Others, well..."
"What?" Link leaned in.
"...Some legends suggest they were lovers."
Link felt his face turn hot. He quickly regained his composure. "Whatever happened to him?"
"Legend says he was killed when the Demon Tribe made their assault on the humans. It was said our ancestors lived because of his heroic sacrifice." Karane shared. "Another thing to note is that among them was believed to be his sister. There's not much about her, but it's said that she had a child some years later who then founded the Knight Academy around twenty-five years after Skyloft was created to commemorate their heroic uncle they never got to meet."
"Owlan did say the Wing Ceremony took place on the 975 anniversary of the Academy's founding. It would line up…" Link noted to her.
"Maybe, if it is true…But like I said, its a legend. There's no way to verify them. Who knows? Maybe there is some truth to it." Karane let out a yawn of her own.
"You get some sleep now. Thank you," Link suggested to her.
"Always a pleasure. Good night."
Link watches Karane get comfortable and pull herself into slumber. This leaves him alone with his thoughts, specifically on the visions and what Karane had told him.
It's safe to say that Other Link is more than likely Hylia's own chosen hero, whom Zelda told him about that fateful day. The vision he saw mentioned Other Link having a little sister. Aryll, whom Link believed to be her name. Stories of the Knight Academy's formation had always been scarce because it was almost as old as Skyloft. However, if what Karane had said was true, Aryll would have had a child that later grown up to form the Knight Academy. It would make sense the more Link thought about it.
The tunic Other Link had was almost identical to all Skyknights' uniforms. The Hero's nephew/niece formed the academy in his honor. Was the uniform part of it?
It still doesn't Link's other questions.
What was Other Link's relationship with Hylia? Were they really lovers? What exactly happened to Other Link? Why is Link getting visions of them? And why did they feel so familiar to him?
----
Fi remained vigilant as her human masters slept as she had done previously. The fire in the camp had long since died down. She heard the ambience of the night, from the chirping crickets to the hoots of owls. Normally, she has no issue doing that within the confines of the sword, but this particular night, she felt the need to be out herself.
She glances at her human companions, sleeping peacefully into the night. That was the only luxury they could have right now. Despite all the recent troubles they've been through, Fi could ensure that they get a good night's rest. They still have a lot of ground to cover.
Bushes rushing caught her attention. She hovers outside the tent. The spirit looks around only to see nothing. Then she hears the sounds of bells to her side.
Standing beside her is The Blupee, staring at her with its large eyes.
"Greetings," The Blupee told her telepathically. "I hope you do not mind if we talk this way. I figure we shouldn't wake your companions."
"You've been following us," Fi told the Blupee sharply.
"Indeed, I have."
"For what reason?"
"I believe you should know that. You are made to read intentions, are you not?" The Blupee glances at Link's sleeping form.
"You have been the one giving my master those visions. He had one yesterday and another earlier." Fi looked at Link, then back to the spirit.
"You know of them?"
"I could sensed them, but I did not want to press the subject unless he wished too. I highly suggest that you stop. Your visions are causing him great confusion & distress"
"I understand your concerns greatly, but I cannot even if I could." The Blupee lowered its head. "Things have changed. I believe that it is beneficial that he knows this information. Link must remember, and you know it too. Because you know who he is."
"Until now, I had only merely suspected it. Since the moment he drew the sword."
"And I 100% can confirm that the Link you see here was the same as the one you knew when you were Fima."
Fi sharply moves her gaze back to The Blupee. "You know my old name?"
"I know a lot of things about everything, including you," the small spirit told her gently. And I know you harbor feelings of guilt for what happened to him."
Fi lowered her gaze dejectedly. The Blupee gently hops closer to her. "What happened that day was not your fault. You are not responsible for the tragedy that unfolded."
"But I am responsible for what happened to him," Fi glances at Link again. "I hesitated momentarily, and it was enough to lose everything."
"Are you afraid that once he remembers that, he will blame you?"
Fi has yet to respond.
"Is that why you gave up your humanity to become a sword spirit? To punish yourself?"
"I did it as atonement," Fi asserted. "My mistake nearly caused the extinction of humans. I vowed never to let my emotions get in the way so that I could aid Hylia's Chosen Hero. I never expected to be…him."
"He will not blame you." The Blupee told her warmly. "His sister didn't, and neither did Hylia. I don't see why he would."
Again, Fi did not answer. Blupee's gold wreath antennae perked up with an idea. "Perhaps you should tell him your story—about your life prior to who you are currently. Link deserves to know. They all do."
The Blupee glances at the four sleeping humans. Fi stayed still as she thought over The Blupee's words. She gave her answer and she took one more look at her masters. "I will consider it."
"I highly suggest that you do tell them. It will make Link better understand things when I tell him the full truth. He must remember who he was." The Blupee turned on its heels. "I will stick close watching you all. May the Goddesses watch over you."
The Blupee ran straight back into the trees, vanishing into the night. Fi hovered over her spot before returning to her human companions' tent. She spends most of the night thinking about the conversation she had.
#legend of zelda#skyward sword#sksw#legend of zelda fanfiction#an impulse decision#link#sksw link#pipit#karane#fledge#fi
0 notes
Text
The chapter 39th has been posted. Here is the preview
39. Something's wrong
Something's wrong with you, The walls you build around you now, Seem to fit you like a glove.
Am I too blind to see that there's something there behind your eyes and it's bringing me to my knees?*
On Friday morning during breakfast, Harry received a letter from Lupin. He wouldn't feel comfortable reading it at the staff table where all Hogwarts students ate their meals every day, so he stuffed it in his pocket and opened it only when he was alone in his dormitory.
For the first half of the letter, Remus only wrote about insignificant trivialities, asked Harry how his studies were going, whether he liked his lessons with Tonks, expressed his interest in the Quidditch matches and only mentioned in half-words that he was currently performing an important task for the Order, but for security reasons he cannot reveal anything more to him.
As for your questions, Harry... I know you're eager to know something, and I totally understand that. However, we have certain recommendations and rules. It's not known who could intercept this letter. That's why I can only tell you that our information shows that it's getting more and more dangerous. He seems to be in an unusually good mood lately, so we fear he may be planning something big and very dangerous. We have already lost many Aurors and we believe that number may increase in the near future. That's why I'm asking you not to leave Hogwarts anywhere and not to try to break the Headmaster's ban. It's for your safety, even if you think it limits your freedom. You need to understand, Harry, that you are his main target and we must protect you at all costs. Remember - don't trust anyone, not even your friends. You need to keep an eye out and if you notice anything suspicious, anything, report it to Dumbledore immediately.
I'm sorry for this didactic tone, but I only want your good. Now that Sirius is gone, it's up to me to take care of you and I'm very sorry that I can't be there to support you, but I'm trying my best to do it from a distance. I hope you understand this.
Greet Ron and Hermione from me.
Remus Lupin
Harry put the letter aside, gripping it a little too tightly. His hands were shaking slightly. It was nice that Remus was so concerned about him, but damn it, he wasn't a little kid anymore. He didn't want protection. He wanted information, anything!
Something twisted in his stomach at the mention of Sirius. For months, he had tried his best not to think about his godfather, but sometimes, when someone reminded him of him, something inside him snapped and his mind flooded with images from that night.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the vision of Sirius falling through the veil and his own scream, multiplied by anger and guilt and returning to him with even greater force. He began to breathe deeply, trying to get rid of the weight pressing down on his heart. The problem was that he had had it inside him for so long that he almost never felt it, except when someone reminded him of its presence.
No, he won't think about that now. There will still be time for this. A time when he would point his wand at Bellatrix Lestrange, lying at his feet... and this time he won't hesitate.
He looked at Lupin's tiny handwriting again. Really, did they all have to treat him like this? 'We have to protect you, Harry', 'It's for your safety, Harry', and so on... He kept hearing it and it made him more and more frustrated. Everyone wanted to protect him... and what good will he get from this protection if one day he will have to fight Voldemort anyway? He won't defeat him with Protego alone. It's probably obvious that he would have a much better chance if he knew anything. But no, instead of preparing him, everyone just wanted to protect him. Even Severus...
Hold on. After all, Severus had promised that he would consider teaching him a few curses. Harry completely forgot about that conversation, and the man never mentioned it, but Harry will ask him about it today! Yesterday's meeting ended a bit strangely and they didn't manage to make an appointment at all, but he doesn't always have to come announced. It was true that he could ask him through the stone, but what if Severus refused? No, Harry had to know that today! He'll go to him tonight and... he'll get an answer from Snape!
***
Harry stopped in front of the door to Severus' office and looked at the Marauder's Map again. Yes, the man was still inside.
He took a deep breath, put the map back in his pocket, and touched the door, which immediately opened to him. He walked through the office, taking off his invisibility cloak, and he knocked on the wooden surface of the heavy gate leading to the Potions Master's private quarters.
There was silence for a moment as Harry waited, his heart beating loudly and getting faster with each second he waited.
The doorknob moved and the door opened slightly.
"Potter," Severus hissed, narrowing his eyes as his gaze fell on Harry. "What do you want? I don't remember that we had an appointment today."
"No, but..." Harry started, but couldn't finish because Snape interrupted him. His voice seemed to be carved from ice.
"I don't have time for you. I would be extremely grateful if you would get out of my sight now and come back tomorrow," he drawled.
Harry felt a strange trembling around his heart. Something was wrong. Severus was acting somehow... nervous? But this time he wouldn't let himself be dismissed so easily, because the cause he came with was too important to him.
"Then you have to find it," he replied cheekily and quickly slipped under Snape's arm. The man's chamber was in semi-darkness. "I just have one question and I'll be leaving," he said, scanning the room with an appraising look before Severus could turn around. "Do you remember our conversation about the Dark Arts? You promised that--" he stopped as suddenly as if he had swallowed his own tongue. With eyes wide with horror, he stared at the Death Eater's mask lying on the chair. It was bright, almost pearlescent, reflecting the firelight from the fireplace. There were a few small, dried drops of blood on it. Right next to it he saw a black robe, the sleeves of which were decorated with dark green images of a skull and a snake.
Harry felt his stomach drop to his feet and an icy fear grip his heart, but before he could recover enough to utter a word, Severus' hand grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him towards the door.
"I told you I'm busy, Potter," the man hissed, the anger in his voice seeming to sting. "But apparently you're too arrogant and insolent to respect it." Snape dragged him out the door and across the office, squeezing his arm so tightly that Harry was sure it would bruise. "Now get out. If you have any business with me, come tomorrow. And if you ignore my words again, it will end badly for you." The Potions Master pushed him out into the corridor and slammed the door, and the sound echoed far through the vast corridors of the deserted dungeons.
Harry turned around and leaned back against the wall as his legs gave out. He felt like his head was about to explode. For a moment he just breathed heavily, trying to calm his racing heart and the feeling as if something was about to tear him apart from the inside.
Snape was a Death Eater!
It wasn't that he didn't know it, but now... when he saw it with his own eyes, it became so... terrifyingly true.
He knew that Severus was a spy for the Order, and as a spy he had to be absolutely trusted by Voldemort and the other Death Eaters, and that's why he's forced to do whatever they tell him, but... Harry always tried not to think about it, to ignore it. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. And now he saw it... he saw the bloody mask, the hated robe, and he felt as if what he had been trying to deny opened up above him and fell on him with incredible force.
He took a shaky breath, put on the invisibility cloak, and slowly made his way back to the dormitory.
Only now did certain facts begin to slip into his consciousness that he had not been able to, did not want, or was unable to admit before. He had never wondered before, not really, about this 'second' life of Severus... Somewhere out there, far from his dim chambers, far from the safety of Hogwarts, far from the long school corridors and the students running carelessly along them, far away from Harry... Among hatred, dread, screams of pain, howls of the dying ones, among envy, despair and mind-shattering laughter, devoid of all feelings and disinhibited...
Truth be told, Harry didn't think he could live like this. He suspected he would either go mad or become as unscrupulous a murderer as everyone else. A person, no matter how mentally strong and resistant, will after some time begin to 'permeate' the strong emotions present in the air, absorb them and perceive them as their own, no longer distinguishing them from each other.
But Severus was... Severus Snape. After all, he was someone who could do anything with his mind. At least that's what he said. Harry remembered that conversation.
0 notes