#terror destruction doom

[shortcrust]

I’ve seen the firewatcher’s daughter…

[apanthropydotorg]

The Top 25 Splits/EPs of 1987

Disclaimer: Please don’t unleash years of suppressed anger and throw a hot cup of coffee in your dog’s face if you don’t see (insert band name) at (insert position) or any such situation. This feature is based on the opinions of an author that writes, primarily, based on experiences and makes no claims that the collection of releases you’re going to be reading about is certified by God, Satan,…

[headspace-hotel]

My mamaw has the book right now so I won't be able to read it for a little bit but my mom read The Worst Hard Time by Timothy Egan which is about the Dust Bowl and it puts in perspective all the environmental books I was reading from the 1940's and 1950's and the sense of agitation and intensity in them.

Everyone is like yeah yeah the dust bowl we've all heard of it, but the Dust Bowl was apocalyptic. The USA practically eliminated the bison—we are talking thousands of square miles of land littered with bones, enormous pyramids of skulls—and committed genocide against their caretakers, and then settlers ripped up the prairie grasses (which protected meters of top soil) with plows

And what happened was, half the country became in engulfed in horrific dirt storms that turned the sky black and reduced visibility to a few feet. Even indoor environments were full of deep drifts of dirt. When it rained, it rained mud instead of water. In ENGLAND the snow was RED because of DIRT. People died from pneumonia because they were breathing the dirt into their lungs.

Even before mom started reading this book, I was reading American books about the environment from the mid 20th century, and they are animated with the zeal and terror of people who have realized that human mismanagement could make the USA literally uninhabitable. I realized, "Oh. This is right after the Dust Bowl." cause of how they talk about erosion, and I realized just how formative the Dust Bowl was in terms of environmental policy.

Reading about various wildlife species, I realized also how utterly apocalyptic the conditions of the past were for animals. Deer were almost eliminated from my state. Deer.

Why do we have the Migratory Bird Treaty Act? Because just about every large bird species almost went extinct from uncontrolled commercial hunting. We almost had no swans, no cranes, no egrets, no storks. We lost the passenger pigeons and Carolina parakeets, but we could have lost Basically Everything.

So many of the ill-conceived decisions to introduce species to this continent are easily explained by how apocalyptic this period of time was. Why did we think it was a good idea to introduce Kudzu? Because in the 1950's, erosion sparked a visceral apprehension of CERTAIN DOOM, and logging had made the whole southeast start washing away! Why were so many exotic antelopes introduced to Texas? Because every native large animal was almost wiped out!

From my other readings on the subject (Changes in the Land by William Cronon is a good one) devastating environmental destruction started just about as soon as Europeans started controlling the land, and I am guessing that if you examined the timeline of environmental disaster alongside the migrations west, it would support the argument that settlers started pushing west more and more rapidly because of land degradation and environmental disaster.

I wish this was commoner knowledge, getting to where we are now has been a journey. Environmental history doesn't start in 1970's.

It is not the case that things have steadily gotten worse over time and recently are becoming extremely bad, rather, different parts of the environment have become both better and worse in steps forward and backward, and many seemingly unremarkable things around us were earned by a vicious fight, which we can learn from and continue...

[sunsburns]

fallen fruit

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x reader

summary: you and eric go on a supply run to help aid the mother and her child at your safe spot, where dozens of other survivors are hiding. it isn't too far of a journey, and travelling in groups is better than alone, however, when the military starts bombing the bridges in new york city, the two of you are forced to go into hiding after being chased by a death angel.

—or: you're being hunted by a death angel

word count: 1.8k+

contains: angst, horror elements, alien invasion, the-end-of-the-world kind of scenario, blood, graphic gore & violence, injury, tending to wounds, kinda intimate

author’s note: got a lot of requests for eric and i'm bouncing off the walls with excitement yayaya!!! anyways i'm killing two birds with one stone with this one since this is based on this request and this one!

They've started bombing the bridges.

You and Eric had ventured out on a supply run for food, hoping to bring back something for the mother and her baby you were hiding with. Fighter jets roar through the skies, their engines a deafening sound of impending doom.

The ground shakes violently with each explosion.

The monsters below, drawn to the cacophony, scramble chaotically, their massive forms casting monstrous shadows against the darkening, orange-tinged sky.

The city is plunged into chaos once more as the explosions ripple through the air, sending shockwaves down the deserted streets, the military making a desperate bid to contain the aliens. The once-bustling bridges of New York are now targets, their obliteration aimed at preventing the spread of the monsters, trapping them in the islands.

The monsters can't swim, the authorities have been broadcasting that for hours, and patrol helicopters circle periodically. But the creatures' relentless pursuit on land paints a grim picture to the people who are trapped with them.

You and Eric move quickly, ducking into narrow alleyways and through crumbling abandoned buildings, always staying vigilant and out of sight. The sounds of explosions reverberate around you, and your heart hammers in your chest, adrenaline propelling you forward even as fear gnaws at your insides.

Every step is fraught with tension, the city's eerie silence punctuated by distant roars and the relentless thudding of your own heartbeat. The glow from the fires casts an otherworldly hue over the desolate streets, transforming familiar landmarks into sinister silhouettes.

Eric glances back at you, his face a mask of determination and barely concealed fear. Despite the terror coursing through you, you draw strength from his presence, a silent promise that you will protect each other no matter what. The bond between you feels unbreakable, forged in the crucible of shared danger and whispered confidences in the dark.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion tears through the air, the ground beneath you trembling violently. You both stumble, barely keeping your balance as the shockwave reverberates through the streets.

The nearby bridge finally collapses in a plume of fire and debris, the impact sending a massive cloud of dust and smoke billowing into the air. The monsters react instantly, their shrieks piercing the commotion of destruction.

A stampede of the creatures surges through the city, their massive forms silhouetted against the fiery skies. They leap from building to building with alarming agility, their claws tearing through concrete and metal as if it were paper. The sheer speed and ferocity of their movement send waves of panic crashing through you.

Eric grabs your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Run!" you whisper over the noise, and he doesn't need to be told twice. The two of you sprint together, weaving through the debris-laden streets as you desperately search for shelter. Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing the chaos around you. The air is thick with smoke and the smell of burning.

One of the monsters, massive and swift, barrels through the alley behind you, knocking over everything in its path. The ground shakes with each of its steps, the noise deafening. You glance over your shoulder, eyes widening in horror as it closes the distance. Panic surges through you, lending speed to your legs.

A fire escape, dislodged by the creature's brute force, comes crashing down with a deafening clang. The metal twists and bends as it falls, and you both duck instinctively. Desperate, You push yourself harder, lungs burning as you sprint toward the faintly glowing orange street lights ahead.

But in the chaos, your footing slips. Eric's hand, slick with sweat, slips from yours as you suddenly drop to the ground. Pain explodes in your leg as one of the rusty staircases from the fire escape crashes heavily on top of it.

A scream of agony tears from your throat before you can stop it, the sound raw and desperate. You bite down hard, trying to stifle the noise, but the agony is excruciating. You look down at your leg, and even in the darkness you can see that something is wrong—the unnatural angle, the blood soaking into the fabric of your pants.

The monster pauses, its head whipping around at the sound.

Eric's eyes widen in terror. He skids to a halt, eyes sweeping with horror as he realizes what's happened. He drops to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as he covers your mouth, his own breathing ragged with fear. "Shhh, please, you have to stay quiet," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart and the pained groan that slips from you, muffled by his hands.

The creature sniffs the air, its head tilting as it listens.

You can feel its presence, a looming shadow of death inching closer, its low growl reverberating through the narrow alley. The scent of your blood in the air draws it nearer, each step making your heart race faster.

You feel as if your entire body is aflame, the pain in your leg mingling with the terror gripping your heart. Eric holds you closely, his trembling hands gentle but firm, a lifeline amid chaos.

The tears finally break free, rolling down your cheeks and wetting his hands. He holds you tighter, his own fear palpable, but his determination unwavering. "I'm here," he mouths against the shell of your ear, "I'm not leaving you."

Its footsteps grow louder, and you can spot its shadow against the brick wall, inching closer, its low growl coming deep within it.

The seconds stretch into an eternity, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in your ears. The creature's claws scrape against the ground, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

Finally, drawn by the louder sounds of the explosions, it moves on, leaving you both in a shaken silence.

The moment it’s gone, Eric scrambles to help pull you out from under the metal. He shakes with effort, his muscles straining, and you’re scrambling to get out from under it once he lifts it high enough for you to move. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as he finally frees your leg. The pain is blinding, but you hold back any sound, tears streaming down your face.

The broken glass beneath you shifts quietly with your movements, and Eric tries his hardest to lower the railing back to the ground without making a sound. His breath comes in short, ragged gasps, and he glances nervously at the shadows, every small noise making him flinch.

Eric helps you to your feet, his arm around your waist supporting your weight. Together, you move as quickly as you can, each step sending fresh waves of pain through your leg. You lean heavily on him, your breaths coming in short, pained bursts as you feel blood rolling down your leg, soaking your sock and shoe.

His grip stays firm, urging you to stay with him a little longer.

You duck into a nearby building that offers some semblance of shelter. The air inside is stale, and the dim light barely illuminates the scattered debris.

Once inside, Eric lowers you gently to the ground, his face pale and drawn. He crouches beside you, his hands brushing your hair from your face.

His breath trembles as he looks at you, then your leg, a silent plea for you to let him help.

You nod, giving him the permission he seeks.

Eric carefully rolls up the bottom of your pants, revealing a long gash on your calf where blood steadily seeps out along with his quiet and panicked mutters of 'okay, okay, okay'.

He examines your leg, his hands gentle but efficient, his fingers trembling slightly as he works. You see the worry in his eyes, the fear that mirrors your own.

Eric looks up at you with sad eyes rimmed with pity. The silence between you speaks volumes, a shared understanding of the dire situation. You want to tell him to leave you there, that you would only slow him down before he could get back to the safe spot where you had been hiding with other survivors, but the words catch in your throat.

He starts to tear a strip from his own pants, creating a makeshift tourniquet to wrap around your injured leg. The pain is fierce, but his touch is soothing.

He then reaches into the small backpack you had been carrying, pulling out some of the supplies you had gathered for the mother and her baby. He uses a small bottle of antiseptic to clean the wound, his movements careful and precise. The sting is sharp and you bite your lip, trying to focus on his face rather than the pain.

Eric’s eyes never leave yours, and in them, you see the depth of his concern, the unspoken promise that he won’t let anything happen to you. He uses a cloth to gently dab at the wound, his touch light but sure. Despite the agony, you trust into his presence, seeking comfort in his closeness.

As he works, you find yourself leaning closer to Eric, your need for comfort outweighing the pain. He lets you rest your head against him, holding you steady as he finishes bandaging your leg. His breath is warm against your hair, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath your cheek.

Eric finishes tending to your leg and looks up, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

Without thinking, he leans in, his lips brushing yours in a tender, desperate kiss. It’s quick, almost hesitant, but it sends a rush of warmth through you, momentarily distracting you from the pain. He pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection, but you smile weakly, the gesture enough to reassure him.

You move closer, cupping his face with your hands. You press your lips to his again, this time with more urgency, pouring all your fear, relief, and gratitude into the kiss. It's deeper, filled with the unspoken words and emotions that have been building between you.

Eric responds in kind, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. The kiss is a promise, a shared understanding that in this world turned upside down, you have each other.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you rest your forehead against his, the connection between you more palpable than ever.

The chaos outside is relentless, but here, in this moment, there is a quiet familiarity between you. Eric's fingers brush against your cheek, and you lean into his touch, finding solace in the warmth of his company.

In the silence that follows, you rest your head against his shoulder, the day's horrors fading into the background. Eric's hand strokes your hair gently, and you find yourself relaxing into his touch.

The world outside may be falling apart, but here there is a flicker of hope, a promise of survival forged in the bond between you. The air is filled with the distant sounds of chaos, but within this small sanctuary, there is a sense of peace, a momentary reprieve from the nightmare outside.

You take a deep breath, feeling the rise and fall of Eric's chest beneath your head. His presence is a grounding force, a reminder that you are not alone in this.

There is a flicker of hope, a promise of survival forged.

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[tonguesofdestruction]

Get The Shot auf Tour mit Lionheart, Terror und Dying Wish

Get The Shot auf Tour mit Lionheart, Terror und Dying Wish

Die kanadische Metal/Hardcore-Band GET THE SHOT hat kürzlich ihr neues Studioalbum “Mercileess Destruction” über Useless Pride Records veröffentlicht. Auf der neuen Platte sind dieses Mal Death Metal- und Beatdown-Elemente eingeflossen. „Merciless Destruction“ markiert die Rückkehr der Kanadier. GET THE SHOT – “Divination Of Doom”: GET THE SHOT sind seit kurzem mit LIONHEART und TERROR auf…

[catladyhere]

Humans Are Space Orcs

Right?

Okay, so, what if aliens were to see what our kind had developed merely for entertainment purposes, which is a completely baseless IDEA of what we expect aliens to be like.

This is the one that got me thinking. Alien Isolation. The absolute horror that we have spent time and effort to create, to scare ourselves. Because a Deathworld wasn't fucking enough. It's enough to send a human screaming and whimpering. An (apparently) apex predator species.

It was a random day in the space station where sentient beings of all kinds worked at. One of the more adventurous Jlorps, against their good judgement, decided to ask human Oliver about his favourite horror 'entertainment'. Horror was a fairly new concept being slowly understood by the other beings, but how an instinctive reaction in the face of imminent doom, was a pastime, or even a FAVOURITE pastime, was beyond them. However, Oliver could not resist showing them what a Xenomorph is.

Jlorp Ilof watched, frozen in sheer terror, as they saw what the human mind considered terrifying, suddenly remembering all the serious advice that others of his kind, and other aliens too, gave them regarding this particular killer species. What's worse, was that Human Oliver was e x c i t e d to show them their kind's work, which was meant to scare them, which has stopped being scary on account of Oliver not accepting defeat.

"Well.... what do you think?" Oliver asked carefully, as he had observed the previously confident Ilof, slowly start to change their colour from a bright yellow to a dull purple, their kind's indication of feeling fear. He could not help but cringe a little internally, as he really should have thought things through before introducing a prey species to something that scares a good number of his own people.

Ilof spoke after a while, trying to think how they will forget what they saw a minute ago. It was downright traumatising for them. Humans alone were capable of terrifying most of the beings in their galaxy, what were they even thinking, asking their human friend what they were scared of?

"But... why? Why is simulated terror entertaining??" Ilof asked, as they did the Jlorp equivalent of wiping one's cold sweat.

"Because." Olive protested, "It gets our adrenaline flowing. It's a 'flight or fight' response from our brain, when we're in danger. If you subtract the danger from a situation, and add the comfort of knowing you yourself will be safe, it only leaves behind a racing pulse, which... well, it makes us feel alive."

Ilof was at a loss for words.

Human beings liked being in danger, but not dying. But they'd also heard stories about how some humans had readily jumped in the face of danger, where death was certain, to save their comrades. There were too much information in their head, all of them either connected or contradictory.

"Okay, Oliver, so let me get this straight, your kind feels dead at times, somehow, and you simulate death and destruction, to soothe said 'deadness'?"

"Precisely." Oliver beamed, which made the Jlorp further uncomfortable.

"I think I will retire to my work station now."

Ilof never asked another human being, what 'horror' they liked best, choosing to religiously follow the advice from other aliens who have experienced humans and their bizarre rituals and pastimes.

#EarthIsSpaceAustralia

#humansarespaceorcs

[earthstellar]

Warlord Ratchet: A Fascinating Concept 

“And to think, the Doctor of Doom’s mad quest for power continues...! His marauders pursued us to this planet’s orbit.” 

What gets me about Megatron telling Orion Pax that the current dilapidated condition of Cybertron was brought about by the Warlord Ratchet, Doctor of Doom (aside from the concept in and of itself) is that he also states that Ratchet has a legion of marauders who carry out his bidding 

and because marauders are raiders, and Megatron states they were “pursued by marauders” to Earth, the implication is that Ratchet is not on Earth himself--

-- which is smart on Megatron’s behalf, because this would deter Orion from potentially attempting to leave in order to confront Ratchet and instils a concern that perhaps marauders may appear at any time (at this point, Orion Pax does not yet realise that he is armed and is operating under the belief that he is still an Archivist and therefore not Warrior Class) 

but also, this gives us the incredible mental image of Ratchet milling around in some kind of rusted fortress made from the remains of several different Cybertronian buildings, quite possibly the remnants of Iacon -- maybe even the central hospital there, converted into a hive of terror 

still living on an otherwise uninhabited planet, with a loyal band of raiding troops who scavenge the remains of their world and possibly other planets as well (as we know these marauders supposedly have space capable vessels), quite possibly doing so in order to source spare parts and other various salvage -- Ratchet is a medic, who knows how he’s been having to piece together his army, repairing them from the remains of random citizens? 

and he supposedly, presumably either from his makeshift base in the shadows of Cybertron or from a war ship of some kind, commanded an army of raiders to chase Megatron and his followers as far away as Earth 

“I cannot imagine Ratchet capable of such horrors!” 

I can only guess at what Orion Pax was thinking in this moment, aside from his immediately stated disbelief: What drove Ratchet to such lengths? What happened to turn his compassionate, caring friend into a warlord capable of carrying out inconceivable destruction? How could such a thing occur, especially at the hands of a respected medic, someone he thought he knew so well? 

Would Orion Pax start to blame himself, for what was clearly the brutal decline of one of his greatest friends? I can imagine him starting to wonder if there was anything he could do, any signs of discontent, any indication that Ratchet was headed down a violent, dark path. 

And I’m sure he would be concerned about Ratchet himself, as well. How is Ratchet faring, nearly entirely alone on their planet save for his loyal bandits, as aged and worn as he ever has been, possibly accepting a lonely inevitable death on an already dead world? 

Or does Warlord Ratchet have yet more plans in store, his instruments of destruction poised to afflict themselves upon other worlds as well? 

The Doctor of Doom: How Could This Happen? 

It’s somewhat easy to dismiss the idea of Ratchet being this “Doctor of Doom”, because it so wildly opposes what we know of the character and what we know actually occurred with the war. 

But when you think about it for a little bit, an unhinged Ratchet would very much be a formidable opponent, especially with his social position in pre-war Cybertron giving him more immediate access to higher class/caste areas than many others would have been able to reach... 

...Perhaps this Warlord Ratchet was able to work his way into the Council’s good graces, possibly after attending to one of them after an injury and restoring them to health, gradually manipulating the Senate from the inside in order to secure more power, resources, allies, and ultimately the whole of Cybertron for himself-- Leading to a violent conflict which resulted in the destruction of their world? 

With his medical knowledge, even if he started out with a fairly small number of followers and whatever troops he could finesse away from the Council, he may very well have “built” some himself-- We do see in TFP that protoforms may be possible to manipulate into certain frame types, or some types of “cloning” may be possible. 

Any version of Ratchet without morals (or at the very least without any medical ethics) is a very dangerous Ratchet. 

Repairing the injured via patching them together with the remains of fallen comrades, creating a “zombie” army. Ghoulish, lumbering soldiers, marauders held together with armour designed for other frame types. Instructing his former colleagues (who would likely have at least started out with some inclination to follow him) to carry out “repairs” in such a way. 

Warlord Ratchet himself may have chosen to ingest dark energon much like Megatron actually did, perhaps out of a desire to create a new fuel source once Cybertron began to go dark and natural fuel sources began to dwindle. We already know that our actual Ratchet wasn’t afraid to test synthetic energon on himself, with similar motivations. 

His base of operations would quite possibly be Iacon’s medical centre, turned into a horrific hive-like structure, some wards actively still in use for repairs (at least for his own followers) and other areas dedicated to terrifying research, with supply basements full of experimental tech and defensive weaponry. 

Ratchet’s more support class (as opposed to warrior class) approach to things may well carry over to Warlord Ratchet’s approach to war-- An emphasis on intelligence ops, R&D, indirect and direct manipulation, initial political manoeuvring from within the existing system, and defensive systems to counter any munitions etc. that may come his way from opposing forces. 

His initial goals may well have genuinely been intended to improve Cybertron, to help people. Much like Megatron, back when he was Megatronus and wanted a more egalitarian, fair society. 

After working on lower class/caste bots who were nearly offlined from a lack of maintenance, poor to no access to healthcare prior to being dragged to him, etc. it may have been the catalyst for his decision to start using his upper class social contacts in an effort to change things from the inside out. 

Unfortunately, in this universe in which Warlord Ratchet rose to power, things may have derailed just as severely as they did with Megatronus and his initially well-intentioned efforts. 

The longer you think about it, the more plausible it could be. 

It would be easy for Megatron to build further upon this idea to manipulate Orion Pax, that Ratchet truly could have done this. 

I’m sure Orion Pax did not recharge well, his first night on the Nemesis. 

Where did things go wrong? What happened to his friend? How could he do this to their world, a world that Ratchet loved so much? 

--

IDK I just think “Warlord Ratchet” is an incredible idea, and I would have been totally fine if they did a whole season of TFP with the Orion Pax concept lmao 

also holy shit Ratchet in a built up fortress of a former hospital with a band of marauders under his command is such a powerful mental image 

[Screenshot: TFP Episode - Orion Pax, Part One] 

[arealphrooblem]

Hi!! First off I just want to say that this is my new favorite writing blog on tumblr!! I'm so grateful for whatever strings the universe pulled that led me here. I'm literally addicted to every single thing you've written here. I swear I've read Mutually Assured Destruction like ten times within the past 24 hours.

I was wondering, if you find the free time and the inspiration, if you could write a villain x medic/civilian snippet? Maybe Medic accidentally witnessed villain's crime so villain can't let them just wander around freely since medic works for the hero agency, but also doesn't want to kill medic since medic is useful?

Thank you so much! I've always loved the idea of Villain x Medic so here you go!

CW: Kidnapping

“You know my face.”

The medic knew this day would come. Still, they froze in the doorway of the living room, keys dangling in their hands, blood frosting over in sheer dread. The villain sat with their legs crossed in the medic’s favorite armchair, the fire place unlit. The room in semi-darkness, the only light a glow from a street-lamp.

They didn’t ask how the villain knew their address. They should have taken Hero’s offer to leave under witness protection, but their whole life was built here. They couldn’t just leave and start over.

“I haven’t revealed it,” the medic said.

“Yet,” the villain amended. “I’m sure you would for the right price. Or under the right pressure.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t. But I am not going to risk it.”

The lamp beside the couch switched on. The medic flinched away from the sight, eyes trained on the coat rack by the door. As if mattered anymore if they saw the villain’s face again. As if they hadn’t doomed themselves the first time.

Footsteps creaked over the old wood floors. The medic took slow deep breaths, holding it for four counts and releasing it. A trick they had taught people afraid of IV needles to calm their racing heart.

The time to run had long since passed. And even if it hadn’t, the villain most definitely had people outside lying in wait for such an escape.

Hands that tipped the medic’s chin to meet that dangerous gaze.

“You’re going to kill me,” the medic said. It was not a question.

An eyebrow raised. “You sound very calm about that.”

“My career has taught me how to recognize and accept things that aren’t in my control. Right now there is nothing I can do to stop you.”

“This is true.”

The villain studied them, thumb brushing absently against the curve of their bottom lip.  The darkness of their eyes felt unfathomable, like the Marianas Trench. Like the deepest part of the ocean, full of wonder and terror.

“I am not going to kill you,” the villain said finally. “I owe you my life. And I always repay my debts. But you know my face.”

The medic swallowed thickly against the barrage of options that opened up. The villain could blind them, torture them into insanity, cut out their tongue. All of the above. The villain’s hand slips across their cheek to cup the back of the medic’s head. A possessive gesture, they noted with a shiver.

“You are coming with me. Whether it be conscious or unconscious, I leave up to your . . . control.”

Relief warred with new fear. “Where are you taking me?” they asked.  “What happens to me when we get there?”

“Questions I will happily answer in the car,” said the villain, their hand sliding down the medic’s 

neck before retreating. “Hand me your phone and your keys and then go pack your things. You have ten minutes.”

The medic stood rooted to the spot. This was real, this was happening. And it yet it still felt like a bad dream. Ten minutes to pack their life up? Ten minutes?

“Tick tock, darling,” crooned the villain, holding their hand out.

Numbly, the medic dropped their phone and keys into the villain's hand and took robotic steps towards their bedroom. Clothes were easy to grab and stuff into the suitcase. As were their birth certificate and other identity papers. Personal items, less so. Medic spent precious minutes at their bookshelf, picking a well thumbed classic from their childhood, their most referenced medical texts, and a novel they hadn’t started yet.

The pressure of time throbbed in the back of their head, making it difficult to think rationally about what they needed. They ducked into the bathroom, grabbing their contact case and solution, their toothbrush. Then they stood in the middle of their bedroom, frantically trying to think of what they couldn’t live without.

“Times up.”

The villain’s voice came from behind, causing the medic to jump out of their skin.

“Zip it up and let’s go.”

The villain’s car lay hidden in the shadows of the back alley. A dangerous looking driver waiting for them, their cigarette glow the only light. The villain opened the backseat of the car for Medic with a mocking flourish.

It was their last opportunity to run, but the medic knew a shot in the back waited for them if they tried it. So, dread sitting heavy in their stomach, they climbed in. The villain took the seat next to them, giving out curt orders to the driver in a language the medic didn’t recognize.

 The nagging horror that the medic forgot something important haunted them. They leaned their head against the window, mentally walking through their house, trying to remember. But the fear churning in their blood made it so difficult.

“I’m taking you to my compound,” said the villain, almost conversationally. As if detailing the itinerary for a date. “I have a room set up for you, as well as a med bay. You can resume your work taking care of my mercenaries.”

The medic listened with half an ear, watching the wave of street lamps pass them by. What were they missing?

“No objections to that?” the villain asked, bemused.

They passed a park, one the medic had many birthday parties in as a child, and the sudden zing of memory made them gasp.

“Stop! We have to go back!” they cried.

The driver didn’t so much as flinch.

“Go back?" The villain laughed. "Too late for that, doctor. You should have protested before you climbed into this car."

"I forgot something!"

"Whatever it is can be replaced," the villain said with a dismissive wave of their hand. 

"It's not replaceable. Please."

Desperation clawed at their throat but the villain remained unmoved.

"If it were so important, one would think it would be the first thing you packed, not the first thing you forgot. You will have to learn to live without it."

The medic closed their eyes the rest of the journey. They couldn't bear to look at Villain's face.

"Do you regret it?"

The villain sat upon the examination bed, looking almost innocent.

It had been a week since the medic was taken. Their life had changed so drastically that the normality of the med bay, of the tools they had spent years around, clanged like a discordant note. They threw themselves into their work, demanding physicals for the Villain's mercenaries to establish a baseline of health. These people, so used to sewing their own wounds, grew awkward around the medic’s soft and attentive care. Some refused to come. 

The villain showed up last, a new laceration on their ribs. They sat, spine straight and unflinching as medic carefully cleaned the wound and bandaged it. 

"Regret what?" the medic asked. 

" . . .Saving my life."

Their hands stilled for a moment, hovering over the wound. It was a tricky question and the medic wasn't sure how to answer it honestly. 

"I would have regretted the person that I'd become if I had let you die," they said finally. 

"Oh? Most people would consider it a net positive, preventing all my future damage."

"It's not up to me to decide who deserves to live and who doesn't."

"I beg to differ. You hold people's lives in your hands every day. Who else, if not you?"

The medic glanced up at the villain, who stared at them with open-faced fascination, rather than the usual dispassion. 

"I don't think any one person should have that power," they said pointedly. 

The villain smiled, a slow curving movement. "A pity. You could be terrifying indeed."

The medic swallowed something strange dancing in their gut. "You're lucky I'm not." 

"Indeed I am."

They finished the examination without further conversation. The villain watched with quiet fascination as the medic sterilized their tools, folded unused bandages away, updated the Villain's medical records. 

"What did you leave behind?" they asked softly. 

"My life," the medic said, tersely, as they tapped on the keyboard. 

The villain was undeterred. "What did you remember in the car?"

The medic paused at that, unsure if they should answer. They didn't want the villain's mockery over it. But lies rarely went over well with the villain -- the medic had cleaned up the wounds left behind from that. 

"A box under my bed," they replied, keeping their eyes locked on the computer. "It had my keepsakes in it. Family photos, birthday cards, that sort of thing."

"Sentiment," the villain said skeptically. "That's what got you so worked up?"

"I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand," they snapped, standing up. 

The villain watched them leave and the medic felt their gaze like a laser all the way down the hall. 

Two days later a painfully familiar box sat on the examination table. Scribbled in sharpie on the cardboard was a message: 

I do understand. 

[todaysjewishholiday]

7 Menachem Av 5784 (10-11 August 2024)

Shabbat Chazon concluded with the havdalah ceremony and we’re now in the final countdown to Tisha B’Av. If you are fasting this week, remember to hydrate heavily across the next 48 hours. Get what rest you can, and stay out of the sun. If fasting would be dangerous to your health, please remember that Judaism is a religion of life, and that we are commanded to choose life and not to afflict ourselves in harmful ways. There are other ritual ways to remember the sadness brought about by the two burnings of the Beit haMikdash and the resulting periods of communal exile and spiritual turmoil that do not involve self-harm. Fasting is one specific form of mourning for those for whom it is medically safe.

The years of rebellion against the Roman Empire were long difficult years. Factional conflict within the Jewish community and rebel leadership did not make it easier. And as is often the case the most extreme factions were often just as willing to target their own people as they were to attack the enemy they claimed to be fighting.

The Qanai’im (Zealots) and Sicarii (Dagger Bearers) had been advocating the overthrow of Roman occupation long after Nero’s excesses persuaded the rest of Judaean society to join the cause. Deeply aware that their views remained unpopular with the majority of Jews, they sought to force the majority into alignment with them through campaigns of terror. The Sicarii were so known because of their campaign of assassination against Jewish collaborators with the Roman authorities. The Qanai’im had taken their own name from the biblical word for zeal (as in the pasuk “the zeal of your dwelling has consumed me”) but were called Biryonim (Hooligans) by the authors of the Talmud, who blamed them for the revolt’s failure and the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash.

According to tradition, the wealthiest men of Jerusalem had pledged stockpiles of food and fuel to help the residents of the city survive an extended Roman siege. The Qanai’im encouraged a more aggressive campaign of attack against the Roman army, but were rebuffed by the other factions, who were convinced that Jerusalem’s strong defensive position was one of the rebellion’s greatest assets, and that a direct onslaught against the larger and better armed Roman forces was doomed to failure. The story goes that on the 7th of Av 3829, the Zealots set fire to the stockpiles of food and fuel that prepared the city for a siege, convinced that if the residents of Jerusalem had no choice but to fight than the revolt would succeed. When the majority still balked at a direct attack on the Romans the Qanai’im then seized control of the city and took retribution against those who disagreed with them, plunging wartime Jerusalem into civil war. Within a year, the city was in ruins and the Beit HaMikdash destroyed. The zealots has barricaded themselves within the walls of the temple in the final days of the siege, and while the Romans may have destroyed it under any circumstances in their revenge upon the city, the Talmudic sages were certain that the presence of rebels in the sanctuary using it as a fortress was a Jewish desecration which preceded and helped bring about the foreign desecration of the holy place.

[quillandquotation]

"In carrying out the excavations near the Herculanean gate of Pompeii, the skeleton of a soldier in full armour was discovered. Forgotten in the terror and confusion that reigned during the destruction of the city, the sentinel had received no order to quit his post, and while all sought their safety in flight, he remained faithful to his duty, notwithstanding the certain doom which awaited him."

//Based on Poynter's painting of 1865 (Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool), this etching was made to illustrate Clarence Cook's "Art and Artists of Our Time." 

[ladythornofrivia]

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Three)

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: modern!reader bloody and beaten up but the prince interrupted the scene.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)

a/n: please read chapter 2 before reading chapter 3 to know what’s happening. I hope you don’t mind long chapters.

Chapter Three: The House of Black & Green

~ Aemond’s POV ~

Thunder and rain barraged outside the Red Keep. So does Aemond’s heart, thundering and disoriented, clashing like the volcanos in the Doom of Valyria.

Aegon, on the other hand—surprisingly—stopped drinking; silently looking beyond the carved hole and examined the events unfold.

A gush of blood tainted onto the stoned floor when Ser Marrow thrashed your body forward, collapsing with a wet thud.

In the house of the dragons, Targaryens and Velaryons immediately stood from their seats, watching the events unfold. Ser Marrow huffed with his might, abiding for the Targaryens to come to an understanding with Ser Marrow’s reasons.

Alicent rose onto her feet and hoisted you up, but only meet halfway by you sitting up, bleeding as Alicent untied the blindfold and shielded you with her arms, as if Alicent has regret something in the first place.

“Explain yourself, Ser Marrow,” Alicent demanded, brows furrowed in ferocious temper.

Rhaenyra got up from her chair at a slow pace, mouth opened with terror at your current state. She knew that you were hurt from the battle; poisoned by the blade piercing through your youthful flesh.

“I was only doing good for the realm, to keep the peace intact,” Ser Marrow explained. “For Targaryen dynasty!”

“Lady (y/n) rescued my daughter from falling off the bridge, and you call it a ‘threat’,” Alicent defended.

Rhaenyra contained her wrath when Ser Marrow spoke for the ‘good of the realm’. “She saved my son,” she scolded him. “If it wasn’t for her, my son would’ve been killed from the wretched fools.”

“Yes, the wretched fools that this thing brought to the Red Keep!” Ser Marrow accused. “People are dead because of this monstrous bitch!”

Rhaenyra shook her head. “Ser Marrow, you forget yourself. What in the Seven Hells are you thinking? Beating her to a pulp, causing an uproar in the room was no good of excuse for you to gain sympathy of your ranking from us! Why do you think so highly of yourself? Have you had no shame on what you’ve caused?”

Ser Marrow hesitated for a moment, looking at you, then looking back at Rhaenyra. “I only did my duty, princess. Should she stay here in King’s Landing, death and destruction will bring upon the Targaryen line.”

“She did what she had to do to keep my family safe—”

“She’s a monster!” Ser Marrow bellowed. “A monster hiding beneath the human skin. She’s isn’t ordinary! Dangerous and filled with malice and lascivious intents to destory Westeros!”

Rhaenyra sighed, shaking her head. Prince Daemon, who stood the corner of the room, watched the events unfold.

Meanwhile, Alicent still embraced you tight, lessening the anxiety you were trying to suppress.

Aemond watched you from afar. Even awake, he found himself focused on your features—all fragile with grace and beauty within quietude. Droplets sank onto your tainted dress and your once immaculate hair has disarray from hair pulling. Aemond kept his composure and cast his sentimental aside.

Behind him, Aegon took notice of this, but said none; only amusement etched onto his drunken face.

“How dare you raised your voice against me, your future Queen, an heir to the Iron Throne and Seven Kingdoms?!” Rhaenyra declared.

Ser Marrow chuckled. “We all know in our hearts that you will never be queen or inherit the throne like that Rhaenys bitch, stringing along in a comfortably life with that old and weak man like that Sea Snake fucker!”

Everyone’s eyes snapped at his statement. Even Aemond’s and Aegon’s—halt from their tracks.

“Oh yes, surely you think it’s time to realize that you, a woman with big tits, hideous face and a loose cunt will never stand a chance against the son to rule to Seven Kingdoms on the Iron Throne. Sons are meant to rule, never the daughters.”

Rhaenyra had gone pale.

The silent gasps ensued.

Alicent stood up and approached Ser Marrow. “Remove your cloak and sword; you are hereby exiled from Westeros and reside at the Wall.”

Ser Marrow snorted without batting an eye on Alicent. “I don’t take orders from an ugly, vicious cunt.”

Alicent withstood her ground. “I won’t ask again, Ser Marrow.”

Anger blazing, Aemond make haste outside of the secret passage to enter the room, but Aegon hauled him back.

“Release me, brother. I have no time to indulge with your silly antics,” Aemond warned.

Aegon clutched Aemond’s arm tighter. “You’ll get in trouble. In more ways than one,” he warned back.

“Since when do you give a shit about your younger brother other than your wine and whores?” Aemond yanked his arm off from Aegon and entered the scene without noticing him; everyone is too focused that they’re unaware of Aemond’s presence hidden behind the thick pillar, his sword in hand, with his watchful eye, he was waiting for a moment to strike.

~Your POV~

Clutching your stomach as you were urging not to cough more blood. Behind you, the shadow overcast the ground, revealing Rhaenyrs Velaryon offered you a comforting smile and hands on your shoulders, though appearing more apologetic and saddening.

“Ser Criston, take Ser Marrow and escort him outside the Red Keep at once,” Alicent demanded in a low tone.

Ser Marrow shoved Criston back; Criston held his sword on his throat as the other guards in the room held their swords directly in front of Criston and Marrow.

“I will take no part in this charade,” Ser Marrow replied.

“Stand down now, good sir,” Criston said. “And walk away from the Red Keep.”

Ser Marrow. “This is your doing, Criston! If you haven’t brought that bitch here in the Red Keep, I would’ve still be part of the Kingsguard!”

“This is your own choosing to beat Lady (y/n),” Criston responded, apathetic.

“If only the monster hadn’t save the Rhaenyra’s bastard son, the succession to the Iron Throne would be secured. But he’s no son of the late Prince Laenor”—chuckled—“no, rather both monsters brought great ruination.”

For once, you’re glad Jace isn’t here.

“Fuck you,” you choked, blood spattered. “Admit it, you couldn’t handle a woman who bested you.”

Ser Marrow’s mouth clenched so tight, veins protruding from his neck. “You vile, insolent de—”

All the guards’s swords lowered, except for one blade tip kissed on Marrow’s neck with a pointed end. “A war hasn’t even begun and you’ve beaten a young maiden. Do you really think that have you a chance of walking out alive,” a voice said. “I dare you to say the word “demon” again, Ser Marrow.”

All their eyes turned to Aemond, who was looking down, gazing at you.

Though your eyes nearly dwindled, you heart beat pounded against the cage in your chest at the sight of him.

“Aemond, what are you doing here?” Alicent asked, rushing to his side, tugging the upper sleeve of his leathered jacket.

“I was only here to defend her,” Aemond answered with a droned hum. “After all, she saved my dear sister,” Aemond said coolly without averting gaze away from Ser Marrow, though given the exception of looking towards you ever so benign.

“Get back out in the hall, Aemond. This is no fight of yours; Ser Marrow must stand down and leave from the Red Keep,” Alicent said, frantic.

But Aemond ignored her, deepened the blade. “If you touch her again, there will be war.”

Everyone held their breath as they watch Aemond, his cautions ingrained into their minds.

“Aemond,” Alicent hissed, nudging him.

Aemond lowered his blade, and as soon as he did, Ser Marrow rushed towards you with his fist high up, but the sword cleaved Marrow’s head into two, leaving the guards already held their swords to disarm Aemond, as the table clanged loud; one guard bled from his head; Aegon slammed the guard down from trying to stab Aemond on his blind side, and held a short sword; the blade’s tip scraped the guard’s cheek.

“I wouldn’t do it again if I were you,” Aegon said to the guard and caught sight of you with a faint smirk on his wine-stained lips.

Prince Daemon lazily made his way to the crowd to retrieve Rhaenyra as the guards collected Ser Marrow’s body. But before that, Aemond said, “Feed Ser Marrow’s corpse to Vhagar. His service is no longer needed.”

Spectators stared in awe at the sudden events; not one utter a word of objection or sputter disagreement with the one-eyed dragon prince, as Aemond swept his sword clean with a cloth, not sparing a glance to anyone.

Once he sheathed his sword, Aemond advanced towards you and lifted you up, leaving everyone staggered at his proclamation for you.

Taglist: @galactict3a @toodlesxcuddles @daonenonlysandman @hufflepuff1700 @me753 @fredskum @danika1994 @colored-tr-panels @valeskafics

@ aemondswifffeeeyyy - all rights reserved

[bestworstcase]

First i want to say that i love your rwby analysys, but i just discovered your blog, so can you explain to me why you hate Ozpin so much? Like, every minor thing he does and says must have some malicious intention behind it, but everything Salem does is part of a big plan that means that she's not actually evil?

ooh it’s been a while since we had one of these! 1. i think perhaps a closer read of my salem analysis is called for, because you’ll notice that i am, er, not shy about noting that salem is evil and this is in fact a central tenet of my reading of the narrative; i just don’t think she’s a one-note genocidal lunatic and it is extremely obvious that the narrative is heading in a "the brothers were and are wrong, and salem wants them gone" direction; 2. oz is second in my heart only to salem and cinder, which sort of speaks for itself in terms of "this character did bad things!" not being remotely a bad thing in my book, 3. and speaking of cinder, i get exactly as cranky about uwuified fanon sad wet rag ozpin who’s never done a thing wrong as i do uwufied fanon poor wittle cindy who doesn’t want to hurt people but salem makes her do it for exactly the same reason, which is that it strips out everything that makes these characters narratively and emotionally compelling in favor of mashing them into gutless marshmallow pod people for the sake of… i don’t know, making them neat and bland and easily digestible, i guess? uwu?

4. this is an ozlem house

5. i don’t think ozma has ever acted with malicious intention; rather, he’s been coerced into this situation where his faith in his god, his intense desire to do the right thing, and his terror of what will happen if he fails or disobeys—in combination with a divine curse that is literally designed to prevent him from being able to change or break free, because he has a reflection of himself monitoring his thoughts and actions all the time—are at war with his true desire (he wants to be with salem) and his conscience (he knows that salem was right about what is necessary to fulfill his task, that uniting the whole world under one creed is impossible except by genocidal conquest, and he cannot bring himself to do it because it’s wrong). he’s trying very hard to do the right thing in a situation where he genuinely believes his only options are to commit genocide for his god or sacrifice the whole world for his love and he is desperate to figure out a third option that does not end with "rocks fall everybody dies;" thence the lies and manipulation and all the miserable moral sacrifices he’s ever made.

6. the reason this is an ozlem house, in the sense that my reading of the narrative in its entirety is predicated on the ozlem reconciliation, is that salem and ozma are two sides of a coin: she is doing terrible things in pursuit of a world where the gods aren’t holding a knife to remnant’s throat and he has done terrible things for the sake of the same. their conflict isn’t evil-vs-good, but apostate-vs-zealot; salem believes the gods can and must be defied and ozma believes her defiance is doomed to failure. salem tells him that in order to unite the world he needs to spread his word and crush all who deny him; as the king of vale, ozma uses the divine relic of destruction to lay waste to not only his enemies but even his own allies, thus he forges the vytal accords that established the united global order in which the story takes place. he’s a better person than she is—because she’s been living in exile for thousands of years and her capacity for caring about other people has withered away to almost nothing as a consequence—but they are in every sense equals.

7. the narrative is overtly not on ozpin’s side? he has a whole atonement arc about it in atlas—& this is why i made the comparison to uwuified fanon cinder earlier, because the framing with regard to ozpin is very emphatically clear that he does a lot of things that are not good, and are in fact pretty sinister and in some cases (amber, pyrrha) outright evil, and he has to make the choice and put in real meaningful effort to be better. i don’t think there’s anything to be gained from ignoring what is plainly in the text of the story, especially when rwby is categorically disinterested in sorting its characters into neat little good-or-bad boxes. there’s no such thing as pure evil—that’s been the explicit textual conceit since volume one—and the implied converse is that there’s no such thing as pure good, either. (which is a conceit that ozlem exemplifies.)

8. i threw a fucking PARTY when we found out salem razed vale, i get the vapors every time i think about what sort of narrative escalation we can expect in V10 given that something as huge as razing vale can happen off screen to set the stakes for vacuo. not that i don’t also adore characters who are good or who (like oz in v7-8) grow and change to become better, because i do, but i really can’t emphasize enough how much i Do Not hate fictional characters on the basis of them doing awful things. what i want from a character is for them to be interesting, which ozpin is. what you’re perceiving as me hating on him is me dissecting him under a microscope because i love him to bits.

9. the ozlem screeds will continue until morale improves

[salmonight]

Free Title Ideas Pt.2

And here is the second part with more mostly likely less titles but enjoy!

(I still cant categorize so take them with apinch of salt)

Low Mood:

Who Mourns an Adonis?

Sinking Sand (Castles)

I Carve(d) These Letters Across My Chest

Smoking Roses

Whispers of the Forgotten

Perfectly Tainted

I Like Dead Things (They Cannot Hurt Me)

A Melody of Misfortune

Echoes of Loss

Crack:

Fake It ‘till You Make It

Honk if You're Scared

Live Fast Die Hot

I Know What I’m Doing — and Other Lies I Tell Myself

True Tales of Bodies(Mostly Mine)

Pinatas are Jerks

Food: A Love Story

You Are Old: Sobering Affirmations for Your Rapidly Disappearing Life

Paranoid-in-Chief

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to [insert activity]

How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Survival Hacks

Learning to Outlive Your Friends and Other Tales of Immortality

Hey, Coffee

Smoking 101: A Beginner's Guide

From Starbucks to Hell: The Demonic Coffee Cravings of Everyday Joes

When Your Summoning Circle Turns Out to Be a DIY Project Disaster From Hell

From Door-to-Door Sales to Demon Summoning: Unexpected Career Paths for the Ambitious

Demonic DIY: Home Improvement Tips for the Dark Side

Delving into the Depths of Dorkness

The Great Demonic Cacophony: A Symphony of Summoning Shenanigans

A Demon Summoner's Guide to Mayhem: How to Summon Chaos and Confusion

Demonic Diversions: When Summoning Turns into Side-Quests

From Grounds to Gateway: How to Open a Portal to Hell with a Cup of Joe

Starbucks, Satan, and Specters: A Caffeine-Fueled Guide to Demonology

The Dark Side of Caffeine: How to Summon Demons and Make the Perfect Latte

Coffee and Demons: A Match Made in... Purgatory?

A Demonic Grind

Romance:

Words Getting Worthless (Love is Wordless)

Honey Without Time

Heartthrobs With A Cheeky Smile

Cause in a Sky Full of Stars, I Saw You

Out of All the Stars in the Sky, I Choose You to Light My Night

At Peace With Stars, in Love With Fireflies

The Love Triangle of Doom

Death:

Phantoms Of The Undead

Shelter In The Graves

Catacomb Without Flaws

Dancing With Your Ghost

Ecto-static

Death Sucks, but the Afterlife is a Blast!

Gods:

Deranged Divinity

Worshipper's Rue

Mystery:

Failing Of The Fog

Stranger Of The Past

Construction Of Twilight

Tree Of The Lost Ones

Rat In The Mist

Giggling Crypts

A Face By Any Other Name

Speak the Truth in Every Sense, Bury It With Innocence

Fantasy:

Forsaking The Elements

Heroes Of The Void

Song of Ice

Lightning in a Bottle

Adrift in the Realms

Fae-n-tastic

Gathering Magic

Three Lullabies of Extradimensional Guides

The Birthday Wish that Sparkled with Magic

Enchanting Birthday Rituals

The Wishing Star Ritual

Destruction /Unhinged:

Sleep as the World Burns

Life is Just a Game (and I'm Playing for the Win)

Inception Of Infinity

Feathers of Chaos

Wingspan of Terror

Burning Brighter Than Hell

Let This City Burn, Burn, Burn

Good Vibes

Shoot for the Moon

Starry Night Skies

Age of Wonders

Streaks Of Laughter

A Lady's Luck, A Robin's Flight

Pt. 1 |

[random-reborn]

Just 4 Space Bros Hanging Out

Master Chief: *Reading*

Samus: *building a model kit*

Doom Slayer: *Gaming on his setup

Issac Clarke: *scrolling through the internet*

Issac: So... we can admit zombies suck, right?

Samus: Oh my god, someone finally said it!

Chief: I could do without the undead for a long time.

Slayer: Yeah, it's all fun and gunning until you gotta blow apart some of your bunkmates.

Samus: my issue is when there's so many, and they just don't stop coming.

Slayer: Ha!

Samus: Grow up.

Chief: Having to exterminate the flood as quickly as possible while they consume and take over your fellow soldiers was... exhausting.

Issac: Hey, at least those guys could stay dead. You could stomp the limbs off of the necromorphs, and they'll still writh at you.

Samus: How *did* you take care of those things anyway?

Issac: I blew that station up with the Marker and everything in it.

Samus: Oh yeah, a classic.

Slayer: The only way to do it.

Chief: Destructive and efficient.

Samus: And makes for a dramatic exit! Wait till you move up to planets.

Issac: Yeah, I think I'm gonna take a break from the whole "destroying ancient terrors" thing for a good while.

[flyiingsly]

Smoke Screen

Square : Fire

Pairing : Wolffe x gn!jedi!reader

Warnings : Hurt/confort, fire (a lot), angst, mention of burns and injuries, medical equipment, unconsciousness, mention of death, slight mention of alcool, Wolffe deserves a hug (and reader too)

Wordcount : 5,8k

Summary : Your battalion is sent as reinforcements to the 104th in anticipation of a potential separatist attack, but things turn out worse than expected, leading you to risk your own life to save your beloved Commander from a terrible fate.

A/N : My fourteenth submission for the @clonexreaderbingo ! I reaaally got carried away with this one, I was so hooked while writing this, it felt like I was living the whole situation for real, that was such a thrilling feeling and so much fun ! I love our favorite grumpy Commander so much, I just wanted to give him a bit of hurt/comfort, because I think that he really deserves to be protected and comforted, enjoy ❤

Fire.

Fire was the most frightening element in your opinion, the one you had always dreaded the most.

Even if it was a situation you were often facing during missions, you couldn’t help but feel that kind of crippling terror washing over your brain every time you found yourself surrounded by flames.

It only meant destruction and suffering to you, and no matter how much training and conditioning you’ve been through to control it better already, it was still here, in a little corner of your mind.

You were a jedi, you weren’t supposed to experience fear, but this one, you never thought that one day you’ll be able to fully overcome it.

But that was until you burst into that collapsing building, shielded by the force, trying to find your Commander, and hoping that he had survived the outpost’s attack.

***

It all started when you arrived with Obi-Wan and the 212th on a little Outer Rim’s planet on which you’ve never been before, to give support and reinforcement to General Plo Koon. He needed more men on his current mission, and of course, you volunteered immediately. Master Plo was a dear friend of yours, and you were worried for him and his men.

You came to know the 104th very well, either by fighting along them, but also by all the time you were spending with the clones of the 212th, for between missions, the different battalions often shared their free time together.

You, in general, had developed a very close bond with the clones, so you were immediately adopted by the 104th as well. But there’s one particular person with who you happened to came along even better.

Commander Wolffe was a bit distant at first. He seemed like he always had a hard time trusting new people by what Rex and Cody told you. But if you had the perseverance to get to know him and to pass through the rude first impression he was giving, he could become one of the most trustworthy and kind person you’ve ever known.

What a chance, you were patient, and what you didn’t know at that time was that he got an eye on you since the first time he met you.

It was right after Plo Koon’s ship was attacked by General Grievous and his Malevolence.  You and Ahsoka insisted to go in search for Master Plo and what was left of his men, and despite the disapproval of Obi-Wan and Master Windu, Anakin and the two of you still decided to give it a try.

The unauthorized mission was a success, you arrived just in time to save them, and Wolffe was very moved by that first encounter. You were intriguing, you were kind and caring toward the clones like not so many other natborns were. You were gifted with healing abilities, and seeing you take care of his wounded men made him feel something he wasn’t used to truly experience. Safety.

You were in the middle of the space, somewhere none of you were supposed to be, chased by the most deadliest general of the Separatist army, his ship had been destroyed, he lost most of his men, he just nearly died and still wasn’t sure if he was going to survive that mission …. He should have felt doomed and frightened right now, but instead, he couldn’t help but feel safe with you on board, watching over him and his fellow troopers.

He stayed far from you for the next few times you two met again. He just looked at you from a distance, trying to hide his interest and fascination toward you the best he could. He knew very well he couldn’t afford himself the luxury of getting too attached to someone, especially to a jedi, for it will never be reciprocate anyway.

But one night, as you were with members of the 501st, 212th and 104th at the 79’, Rex and Cody became frustrated to see him burn to talk to you and never even try to do it. Of course you had tried to start a conversation with him a couple times already, and he always seemed to use his best energy to stay cold with you. You knew it was going to take time for him to open up to you, and so you were determined to give him as much as he’ll need.

Except that they weren’t hearing it that way.

It took Wolffe a bunch of drinks and a monstrous amount of courage, but pushed by his two brothers, he eventually gathered himself to go talk to you. It was a very funny moment, for when he came in front of you, you looked at him with a surprised look at first, before a wide smile appeared on your face, a smile that was screaming “finally”.

His heart melted, his cheeks started to blush badly and he found himself unable to say anything for a whole minute straight.

And that’s how it began between the two of you. As he was expecting it, he grew very fond of you, and you quickly became really close, never missing an occasion to spend some time together. You weren’t sharing that much missions or battlefields, for you were mostly assigned to the 212th, but you were always keeping in touch, no matter how far from each other you were sent.

But as the time passed by, something more than just friendship started to grow inside of him. It was something scary at first, because it was the very thing he was afraid of and wanted to avoid in the first place, and maybe the worse that could happen to someone in time of war.

He eventually ended up accepting it after realizing that he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tried. It never changed anything between you nonetheless, for he was doing his best to not let his new feelings ruin your already existent relationship, keeping it all for himself, hiding it at the bottom of his heart and promising to never tell you anything about it.

You were now way too important to him for that, and he knew that he could never handle to lose you or break that special bond. It was easier that way he thought, and the only thing that really mattered to him in the end was your safety. As long as you were safe and alive, it was enough for him.

But little did he know the he wasn’t the only one to feel the same.

***

The planet you were headed to was a highly valuable ally for the Republic, for it was hosting in its ground the biggest stock of a very rare and expensive kind of metal in the whole galaxy. That component was needed for the fabrication of a vast range of weapon’s and ship’s parts, and at the beginning of the war, its government managed to sign a contract with the Chancellor, allowing the GAR to be the one and only entity to use those resources, much to the disapproval of the separatists, of course.

In exchange, the Senate agreed to provide protection to the planet and its inhabitants against whatever would want to attack them, which was the reason why you were send here. The Senate Intelligence had reported that an attack from the separatist to steal its resources was planned a few days ahead, and that the troops already on place would never be enough to block it, so they urgently needed reinforcements.

But after a week, there was still no sign of any kind of attack. Nothing coming from the sky, no signs of spies amongst the population, not a single droid spotted anywhere. It was strange, for the source was a very trusted one and was usually always giving correct information, but both the Senate and the Order were starting to think about sending the reinforcements back to Coruscant. Maybe it really was just a false alarm after all.

Something was off about this whole situation, and you weren’t the only one thinking it. Both Master Plo and Obi-Wan were trying to convince the Senate to let your battalion stay longer, just to make sure that everything was really alright. Something felt wrong here, you could feel it, but without really explaining why, like if something was happening right under your nose, in the shadows.

One particular place on this planet was giving you a disturbing feeling : an old abandoned mine on the outskirt of the capital city. It was once one of the biggest of the area, and that was why the city had been built near. It wasn’t used anymore, because the deposit had been drained long ago, and the whole mining structures and tunnels had become unstable and dangerous, so its access was now completely forbidden.

You knew you needed to go investigate that mine, even Master Plo was starting to agree with you on that. Nobody had thought about it before because it was supposed to be abandoned, and most importantly, it wasn’t seen as a menace, since the attack was mostly awaited from the sky. So after successful negotiations with the Senate to get a couple more day on site, you and Obi-Wan decided to go visit it and see what you could find there.

And of course, your instinct was right all along.

It didn’t take you long to find some traces of recent mining activities and to bump into a bunch of mining droids busy extracting the few remaining metal from the walls of its many caves. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing at first. You had absolutely no idea how and since when the separatists have been secretly exploiting that place, and most importantly, how they managed to reach the planet without being caught. It was impressive and frightening at the same time.

You tried to get out of here without drawing attention on you, but you got noticed by a probe droid on your way out. You quickly destroyed it and decided to take a closer look at it while Obi-Wan was calling the outpost to inform them of your discovery.

Probes droids were too heavy to be transported easily, but you still wanted to analyze it to maybe get a chance to find information on its sender.

When you plugged your datapad to its system, you realized that it had already given your position away and managed to download the coordinates to where the message had been sent. But something else caught your eyes. You noticed that in addition of your position, another message had been sent by the probe before it was taken down.

When the transcription of this second message appeared on your screen, the words made your blood curdle.

“Republic found us, activate outpost bomb.”

You let out a gasp of horror, your datapad nearly falling from your hands.

“We need to go back, now !” you yelled at Obi-Wan, unplugging your datapad in a hurry.

“(y/n), what did you saw ?” he asked worriedly.

“The probe sent a message with the order to “activate the outpost bomb”, they must have known that we were going to find them someday and booby trapped the outpost in anticipation, probably to cut its communications and prevent anyone from stopping their little traffic. Our troops are in danger, we need to make them get out of the building right now !”

You started to run as fast as possible toward the entrance of the mine, closely followed by your fellow jedi who was frantically trying to call his Commander again.

“Cody, we have been fooled, the outpost is compromised, the separatists have been hiding underground all along !” Obi Wan shouted through his commlink as soon as he heard his voice pick up the call.

“What ? How ?” the clone answered in a surprised tone.

“Please, we don’t have time to explain more, tell Wolffe and Master Plo to gather all of your men, you need to evacuate the place, now, please !” You added, out of breath.

“Copy that !”

The communication cut. The only thing left to do now was to pray for them to be able to escape on time.

A couple minutes later, as you were coming closer from the building, the sound of an explosion loudly ringed out, making the ground violently shake under your feet, stopping you in your tracks and making you lose your balance, nearly falling down.

“Oh kriff, no !” you screamed, instantly understanding what had just happened.

It was too late.

A wave of panic overwhelmed your body, and you soon started to run with even more determination. You were so fast that Obi-Wan could barely keep your pace.

When you finally got the outpost at eyes sight, you immediately noticed Master Plo and Cody, gathered with men from both of their battalions, standing far enough to be safe from the ferocious and high flames that where now eating what was remaining of the structure.

The two superior floors were completely destroyed and collapsed, only the ground floor was still standing, but it was drowned under a massive amount of scrapped metal, concrete and shattered glass.

“Are you okay ?” you desperately let out at them as soon as you were close enough for them to hear you.

“Yeah, it’s okay, thanks to you, we could never have find out without your warning.” The commander answered.

“Did everybody escaped ? Are all of your men safe ?” you frantically asked, still in complete shock and looking around you, counting the troops before they can ever answer your question.

“Wait, someone’s missing …” you suddenly realized, “Where … Where is Wolffe ?” your voice was filled with concern, and you couldn’t even try to hide it as another wave of panic violently hit you.

 “He didn’t make it …”

“Wh .. What ?” you mumbled, feeling your whole body starting to shake nervously.

“He was still inside when the explosion happened, he wanted to make sure that everyone was outside, he didn’t want to leave anyone behind, but … He didn’t pass the door ... Then the building collapsed and the flames were fast to spread, we couldn’t do anything ...”

As soon as you heard these words, you felt like the whole world was crumbling around you. It was like if someone has hit you right in the chest, so strongly that your heart had just stopped beating. Your head started to spin and for a moment you thought that you were about to faint. But you were perfectly motionless, eyes staring into space, completely paralyzed.

“(Y/n), are you ok ?”

Cody’s voice was like an electroshock pulling you out of your thought and back to reality. It took you a few eyes blinks to be able to see clearly again, but without a warning you started to run toward the building. Instantly understanding what you were trying to do, Obi-Wan stopped you in your tracks, using the force against you to lift you up, making your feet leave their contact with the ground.

“(Y/n), it’s too late, you can’t do anything for him now, you have to let it go !”

You were trying to resist, but he was more powerful than you. But you just couldn’t let that happen, you just couldn’t stay here and watch the whole edifice burn to the ground without even trying to do something to rescue him, even if it meant risking your own life in the process. He meant too much to you for you to just leave him here to die alone.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down and concentrate, and then, gathering all of your strength, you turned back to face the jedi despite all the power unleashed against you.

“I’m sorry Obi-Wan, I just can’t do that.”

Without a warning, you threw the most powerful force wave you had ever created in his direction, sending him flying away. You fall flat in the dirt from the released pressure but get up on your feet quickly. No one could have ever stopped you from doing it, and everyone perfectly knew that there was no point on trying, for you would not let anyone stand in your way.

When you arrived right in front of the outpost, you managed to find the former main entrance. The door was gone, and at its place was now a gaping hole. You took another deep breath, and, collecting your energy once again, you created a force shield around before entering the blazing inferno.

The heat was already hard to bear on the outside, but now that you were inside, even with your shield, it was barely tolerable. You had absolutely no visibility, for the smoke and the flames had took the whole space, making it impossible to distinguish anything ahead from a few feet away. In a desperate attempt to locate Wolffe, you yelled his name at the top of your lungs, without, obviously, getting any answer.

You tried to stay calm, thinking about what Cody just told you. He was right behind them when they escaped, so he shouldn’t be that far from the entrance. You weren’t able to see anything, so you decided to close your eyes and focus on what force signatures you could feel around you. Soon, you started to perceive a distant and faint pulse. Something was still living under this blaze, and even if it seemed weak, it was here nonetheless.

With your instinct guiding you, you started to move forward, stepping over a few massive concrete obstacles. The heat was making you sweat abundantly under your robes, and you had a hard time keeping your eyes opened.

You tried to call his name again, despite knowing that nobody was going to call back. You continued to move forward, the presence was getting nearer, but the path to reach it seemed never ending. You had only been here for a very short amount of time, but it felt like light years in these conditions.

As you made a turn to avoid a big concrete wall part that had felt through the ceiling, you let out a gasp as you saw a human looking shape laying on the floor.

“Wolffe !” you screamed, quickening your pace to reach him faster.

As you were getting closer, the shape became more and more recognizable. You were right, it was a human form, and it was armored. Despite the yellowish atmosphere and the messed up colors, you still were able to catch a glimpse of the grey of his armor paint, as well as the special 104th design he was wearing on his spaulder. It was him, there was no doubt about that.

You closed the distance separating the two of you quickly, creating yourself a way through the flames with the help of the force.

“Wolffe …” you breathed out, falling on your knees next to him when you finally reached him, a lump growing in your throat. You knew that there was no time to check on him right here and right now, the absolute priority was to extract him from that hell. He was still wearing his helmet on, and even if you were dying to remove it to see his face and check his breath, you knew you couldn’t.

Maintaining a force shield around you was exhausting, but you still managed to find enough strength to lift him from the ground in your arms, wrapping them around his legs and back. But as soon as your hands came in contact with his armor, you felt the metal’s heat burning your palms and irradiating your arms through your robe’s sleeves. You hissed in pain and clenched your jaws but didn’t let go, the adrenaline helping you ignore it.

You stood up quickly despite that he was heavier than you, just in time to dodge a chunk of concrete falling from the ceiling. You quickly locate the door from where you came in and rushed toward it, praying that your eyes hadn’t fooled you on this time. Your head started to hurt and your vision to blur, it became harder and harder to breathe, and the heat was less and less bearable. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that it felt like it was about to explode, and you knew that soon, your body will not be able to take it anymore. Fortunately, you were on the right way, getting closer and closer to the escape.

A few steps away from the exit, you heard a loud crack noise coming from above you, just after realizing that a pile a debris was now baring the path. What was left of the first floor was probably going to fall on you in the next seconds, and in a desperate move, you broke your force shield and directed all of your energy toward the entrance, blowing the obstacles toward the outside to clear the way. Right after, you were out in the fresh air without even remembering how you made it.

Your pace accelerated, and you were now running frantically toward the rest of the battalion, putting as much distance as possible between you and the collapsing building

As you were getting closer to them, you heard someone scream something to the other, and suddenly everyone turned out from what they were doing to look at you. All of yours and Master Plo’s men saw you run toward the blaze and disappeared into it, and they were all waiting for your return in concern.

When you arrived at their level and stopped, you were panting and sweating like never before, and you felt like if you were chocking. The jedi immediately came toward you, asking you if you were alright, but you barely paid attention to them, too busy worrying about the man you were carrying. The atmosphere became heavy and tensed when the Wolfpack realized that their commander was completely still and not moving at all.

“I need a medic, please, can someone help me ?” you burst as you lowered down to gently lay him on the ground, drained and barely standing on your feet anymore, your throat still hurting and your voice harsh from inhaling too much smoke.

An agitation took over the men gathered around you and some of them rushed to find a medic. An anxious silence felt on the group as you bend over Wolffe and started to cautiously remove his helmet. Nobody dared to say a world, they all seemed to hold their breath, even the jedi stayed quiet. Your heart was still beating fast, but not from your run this time. You were afraid of what you could find under that bucket, and it skipped a bit when you saw his face. He was looking just like if he was asleep, almost too peaceful despite what he had just been through.

You checked his breath and his pulse, and a heavy sigh of relief escaped you when you realized that they hadn’t stopped.

“It’s ok, he’s alive” you quietly told Master Plo, who was crouched next to you, without taking your eyes off of the clone.

“Thanks to you, he was doomed without your help, you surely were his guardian angel on that one, (Y/n), once again.”

His last words made your head raise to look at him with surprise. It was something Wolffe once told you, when you were at his bedside after Ventress ripped his eye off. He told you how lucky he was that you had found him on time before she had the chance to finish him, and that you brought him back to the base when someone else would have probably left him behind to die.

He called you his guardian angel, and those words made your heart burst. That day, you promised him that you will never abandon him no matter what could happen.

Your gazes met, and you stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other. That look the Kel Dor gave you was powerfully meaningful, you knew he was trying to tell you something, but you couldn’t exactly understand what. Then suddenly, you heard his voice ringing into your head, out of nowhere.

“I know I shouldn’t tell you that, but I think that you two will need to seriously discuss those feelings after all of this.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Did a Jedi Master just suggested you to confess your feelings to someone ? A ton of things came swirling in your mind at his words. How did he knew ? Were you not hiding it well enough ? Did he felt it through the force ?

Of course, he knew, he was one of the closest person to Wolffe along with you, and even if you had been trying your best to ignore and repress your feelings, maybe just the way you cared for each other and spent so much time together was making it obvious.

You didn’t get more time to think about it, as you caught a glimpse of three medics running toward you from the corner of your eyes. You raised your head to look at them, breaking the eye contact with Plo, but his voice came to your mind once again.

“He really is attached to you, you know.”

“I know” you whispered in response, low enough so Obi-Wan, who was standing next to you, could not hear it, “I am, too …”

The medics were by your side in no time, and you moved aside to give them some space to work. Two of them checked on the commander, while the third was standing next to a stretcher he brought.

“General, are you ok ?” he asked you.

“Yeah, just a bit dizzy from the smoke, I feel like my lungs are full of ashes … But I’ll be alright.” You absent mindlessly answered, raising a hand to your face to swept the sweat still running on your forehead.

 “General, your hands, they’re burned !” he suddenly exclaimed with concern.

It was only at that moment that you realized how badly your skin had been burned and was hurting. Suddenly, you felt all the heavy weight of pressure and stress being lifted from your shoulders. A violent shiver came running through your spine despite the heat waves that were still striking at you, making you realized that you didn’t even get rid of your half consumed robes. You felt even more worn out, and all you were able to do was to stare at him with a vacant look, completely unable to react or speak anymore.

What happened next was so fast that you barely realized it, and you completely lost track of time.

Wolffe was placed on the stretcher and hooked to a respirator, for his lungs had been critically exposed to smoke. Then the medics removed his armor to examine the extent of his wounds. It was mostly burns, but fortunately not severe ones. They told you that a couple of bacta patches will be enough to treat them. You, too, were sat on a stretcher and gave a respirator, as well as a couples bacta patches for your hands and forearms.

 Soon after, reinforcement ships arrived to evacuate everyone and take you far from that hell of a planet. There was no point in staying here now that the outpost as well as all of the equipment had been completely destroyed. Wolffe’s state was stabilized, but he was still unconscious when you came onboard. You stayed close to him all the way back to Coruscant, hoping for him to wake up soon.

***

It took him a couple more hours after landing on Coruscant and being transferred to the GAR med bay to emerge from his coma. You stood by his side the whole time, waiting patiently for him to regain consciousness. You were exhausted, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall asleep, not wanting to miss the moment when he’ll open his eyes.

When he finally did, he looked all around him in confusion, not understanding why and how he ended up here. He was still wearing a respirator, and run his hands through it, trying to figure out what was that thing attached to his face. Then he stared at his arms, to which some electrodes plugged to a monitor and some bacta patches were stuck, before painfully trying to sit up straight. When he noticed your presence, his eyes started to sparkles and his face instantly enlightened.

“(Y/n) …” he whispered with a weak voice.

“Hey …” you whispered back with a relieved smile.

“What, what happened ? Why am I here?”

“Well, you got trapped in the fire back at the outpost, when helping our troops to get out. You fell unconscious, so we had to extract you from the building … But you’re safe now, back on Coruscant. The medics said that your burns were only superficial. The patches will heal them in no time !”

“I barely remember it … I just remember the explosion, and that I gathered my men to evacuate, the fire was spreading so fast … But after that, nothing … How are the other ? Are they safe ? I did my best to lead them outside but …” he sighed, his brows furrowing and his face tensing worriedly.

“They’re fine, all of them, thanks to you. Don’t worry, you did the best thing you could have done for them. And you, how do you feel now ?”

“Strange honestly, but not so bad. I can feel the burns, it hurts, but it’s still bearable. I just feel awfully tired … And thirsty.”

“Great”, you chuckled, handing him a glass of water that was settled on his bed table, “You’ll feel better soon, you just need to rest for now.”

He took the glass and drank it in one gulp, quickly putting his oxygen mask back in place right after, as he was starting to cough and struggle to breath without it.

He was lost in thoughts, replaying his memories in his mind, when he noticed your hands and arms entirely bandaged, only leaving the tips of some of your fingers exposed.

“Wait, were you hurt ? Are you ok ? What happened ?” he let out with an expression of deep concern.

You lowered your head at his words, hesitant to tell him the truth, suddenly feeling irrationally embarrassed and self-conscious.

“(Y/n) ? Are you okay ?”

“It … It happened when I pulled you out of the building after you fell unconscious … The metal of your armor was very hot because of the fire … But that’s okay, I’m fine, its already nearly healed !” you said quietly, smiling shyly and trying to be as reassuring as possible.

“You did what ?” he exclaimed with widening eyes.

“I … get back inside the building to found you when they told me that you didn’t get out on time …”

You both stayed silent for a moment, Wolffe trying to process what he had just heard.

“Why did you do that ? You could have been killed …” his voice was trembling, and you weren’t sure if he was reprimanding you or if he was just very surprised and worried.

“I know, but I wasn’t thinking about it at this moment, I was only thinking about you … I told you that I’ll always be here to watch your back, remember ? I just couldn’t leave you behind you know, I knew that you were still alive, I could feel it through the Force, I just couldn’t leave you here to die, that wasn’t even an option …”

His expression softened, you were right, you promised, and he knew that you were sincere about it, but he could never have imagined that you’ll literally jump into fire for him. He was so moved by your words that he found himself unable to refrain the words that were swirling over and over again and flashing in capital letters to his mind to escape from his mouth.

“I love you, (Y/n) …” he breathed out, his gaze lost on you.

It was your turn to stare at him with a confused expression.

“Sorry, what ?” you mumbled, not sure if you had just dreamed that or not.

“I love you, (Y/n).” he repeated, a bit louder, “I should have told you that before but … I wasn’t courageous enough to do it. But now I just need you to know, because maybe next time I will not be that lucky to have you by my side to save me, and I don’t want to die without having had the chance to tell it to you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and now I owe you my life … You truly are my guardian angel, and I love you more than anything in this world.”

You felt your eyes becoming watery, and without detaching them from him, you moved from your chair to the edge of his bed, sitting close to him, and carefully wrapped your arms around his body, before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

His skin was warm as if it was still soaked with the fire’s heat. You completely melted as he snuggles against you, his own arms encircling you, and one of his hand settled on your head, softly running its fingers through your hair.

“I don’t want to think about the eventuality of losing you …”, you muttered in his ear, voice filled with emotion, “I Just want you to know that I’ll do whatever I can to protect you, I can’t express how important you are to me, I just know that I could never live in a world where you’re not by my side anymore … I love you too, and I just want to stay your guardian angel for as long as possible …”

You felt his embrace around you tighten a bit, and you hear him sighed in relief through his respirator.

“Thank you” he muttered back, his own eyes starting to be submerged with tears, “I’ll do my best to stay with you as long as I can then, I promise you, mesh’la, I just want to be with you.”

After a moment, you let go of his neck and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. He closed his eyes and you felt him shivered under your lips, his cheeks turning a bright tone of red.

“I wish I could take that mask off to kiss you, but I’m afraid I might suffocate again if I try too …” he met out with disappointment.

“Don’t worry about that” you giggled, “we’ll have plenty of time to catch it up when you’ll get better.”

“I can’t wait for it”, he whispered, a fond smile instantly appearing on his face, before pulling in for another gentle and long-awaited hug.

[deltaruminations]

quick breakdown of what i think The Legend (as told to us by ralsei) might be communicating, since i don't think i've actually laid out my thoughts on this before

Once upon a time, a LEGEND was whispered among shadows. It was a LEGEND of HOPE. It was a LEGEND of DREAMS. It was a LEGEND of LIGHT. It was a LEGEND of DARK. This is the legend of DELTA RUNE

this first section is just serving to establish broad themes and symbols relevant to the story. it's scene-setting, and suggests an origin for the legend ("whispered among shadows").

For millenia, LIGHT and DARK have lived in balance, Bringing peace to the WORLD. But if this harmony were to shatter... a terrible calamity would occur. The sky will run black with terror And the land will crack with fear. Then, her heart pounding... The EARTH will draw her final breath.

we know as of chapter 2 that this part describes the Roaring, and vaguely gestures at its cause (the "harmony" between light and dark being "shattered"). in a normal RPG "prophecy," this would be describing the Terrible Outcome that the heroes are destined to prevent.

the part that confounds theorists is how it seems to contradict the next bit, which more or less directly states that the three heroes of legend won't even arrive until after the Earth has died. what this implies is that the Roaring already happened before the game even started. if we're doomed from the start, then what's the point?

if we say that this is a "second take" of the world, then this is actually internally consistent. the Roaring did, in fact, already happen in a different "session" or instance of deltarune's story -- maybe it happened in this timeline, and the timeline was recently reset, or maybe it was a different timeline from which this one was spun off. either way, the world was given a second chance to stop the Roaring, but this only became possible after it had already happened (at least) once.

if we put stock in the idea that gaster wrote the Legend (as it's told by ralsei), we could speculate that this part of the Legend isn't actually prophetic, but rather based on some kind of prior experience, whether because he saw it from the outside or experienced it first-hand.

Only then, shining with hope... Three HEROES appear at WORLDS' edge. A HUMAN, A MONSTER, And a PRINCE FROM THE DARK. Only they can seal the fountains And banish the ANGEL'S HEAVEN. Only then will balance be restored, And the WORLD saved from destruction.

this is, of course, setting the scene for our current "session" and laying out the basic goals for the rest of our journey (or at least, what those goals are *supposed* to be).

under the "take 2" interpretation, this is the section describing the world's second chance. the Roaring is fated to happen, and indeed already has, in a different "session." without intervention, the Roaring WILL happen, by default. so the Legend hasn't simply tasked the heroes with preventing a calamity that theoretically COULD occur, but rather with changing the very fate of a world that is supposed to be DESTINED for that calamity.

"Angel's Heaven" could be referring to some end-state of a Roaring'd world, but it might refer to something else, depending on who or what we think this "Angel" actually is. if we consider the Angel some kind of demiurge, creator figure, or even author stand-in, then "heaven" could even refer to the story itself, whereby the narrative described in the previous section -- the one that prescribes a "fated" Bad End -- might itself be the Angel's "Heaven." it's a world of the Angel's design, that follows Its will; "heaven" in this sense might not refer to the specific quality of someone's Happy or Good Place, but more generally to the Angel's holy domain -- Its sphere of control, or maybe Its sandbox. to prevent the Roaring and change the story's ending is, in a way, to "banish" that story and replace it with a story that the Angel didn't design and can't control -- a story of profane (or perhaps "hellish") origin, which happens to be consistent with gaster's roles as both Actual Satan and the possible orchestrator of the current "session."

Today, the FOUNTAIN OF DARKNESS- The geyser that gives this land form- Stands tall at the center of the kingdom. But recently, another fountain has appeared on the horizon... And with it, the balance of LIGHT and DARK begins to shift...

and of course this is just setting up chapter 1 lol

anyway that's all. thanks. bye