#this chapter was HELL on veteran though

[eorzeashan]

[johnwickb1tsch]

andar conmigo ~ part 14

gif by omg-imagine

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline/fic- Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle ~ You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you...Your old flame don John does not like this at all. Warnings: violence, fire! chapter map

After Juan’s goons drag you away, it is Anjélica who slips from the chaos and entreats every man she finds at the fiesta wearing a uniform to come to Paul’s aid. By the time she is done the Sheriff has a mob of angry vets outside his jail, demanding the soldier’s release. 

Don Juan’s money was good, but it didn’t seem worth getting lynched over. 

When Paul roars up to Las Nubes in a Willy’s Jeep filled to bursting with fellow veterans, night has fallen, and the flames have just begun to lick out of don Juan’s bedroom window. The few workers who remained home from the fiesta are frantically shouting and passing buckets of water, fighting like hell to keep the rest of the buildings and the fields from burning. 

The house is already a lost cause. 

There is a rumble of thunder in the distance, a late summer storm too far, too late. 

Paul leaps from the Jeep before it has even stopped, running for the house. He knows you are in there, and that you need him. 

Some of Juan’s toughs emerge to meet the Jeep filled with interlopers, and Paul’s brothers in arms surge to meet them head on.

Paul bursts into the house, rushing down the hall on long legs, towards the flames.

Don Juan’s bedroom door is locked. Paul throws himself at it. It takes one, two, three tries before the heavy old wood gives. The burst of heat from the room sends him back a step, before he charges inside. 

His heart falls as he sees you laying there on the floor, crumpled and bloody as a flower crushed under foot, and for a heartbreaking moment he is certain you are dead. 

“Y/n?” he pleads, diving to his knees beside you, gathering you in his arms. 

He’s never been so relieved in his life, as when you stir in his grasp, your question of “Paul?” barely audible over the roar of the flames. 

“I’m getting you out of here.” He adjusts his hold so he can carry you out–and you see the ominous shadow in the doorway. Juan has returned, and he is holding an ornate saber that has been hanging in the hallway for longer than the two of you have been alive combined.  

“Paul–look out!” You try to warn him, but your voice is so weak. Maybe he sees the fear in your eyes, for he ducks just in time for the blade to slice just over his head. 

“You’re just in time for the barbecue!” hisses Juan, slashing again. 

Paul tries to evade, but doesn’t quite. The blade clips his arm, blood spurting. Though enraged, Juan is no swordsman. Before he can swing the heavy sword around to strike again Paul tackles him to the floor, wrestling for the blade. 

An old, familiar fury fills Paul, that consuming savagery from his war days slipped from its cage, and he wants to tear this horrible man to pieces with his bare hands for what he’s done to you.

They fight viciously, rolling, cursing, hitting and biting.

“You dishonored my house!” snarls Juan. “I will kill you both!”

The heat from the fire is scalding. You feel as though your skin will melt right from your bones, and you try to roll away from the growing flames.    

In the end Paul is victorious, pounding Juan’s hand on the floor until he must let go. The soldier throws away the fancy sword into the flames on the far wall. The room is a furnace now, and the fire is spreading out the window, up the house. You all need to go now, but Juan still will not quit, rendered mad by the desire for vengeance.

Desperate to get to you, Paul punches Juan in the jaw, hard enough to knock him out cold. 

“Paul?” you cry out, coughing on smoke. 

The decision is easy for him, to leave Juan behind to the flames, when he scoops you up and barrels into the hallway to make your escape from the burning house. As he passes through the door part of the grand old hacienda collapses behind him.  

He carries you away from the blaze as far as he can before his legs give out beneath him. “Y/n?” He cradles your head in his hands,desperate for you to answer him. Tears make sooty tracks down his cheeks. You both look like you rolled in a coal bin. 

“Paul?” Your eyes open to slits, and you cough violently. 

Are you alive?

For a moment you’re certain that if Paul is here before you–you’ve died, and this is your version of heaven. 

“Thank God,” he sobs, clutching you to him. 

Maybe you’re not dead. 

How marvelous it is, to breathe fresh air, and be cradled in this man’s strong arms again. 

Maybe you should start going to church again, because when the heavens open up and the rain falls down, it feels like a special blessing from above. You sit like that in Paul’s arms for you don’t know how long, soaking wet but warmed by his body sheltering yours. 

“I thought I lost you. Jesus Christ, I thought he’d killed you.” Paul’s words are a low litany in your hair. 

“I’m fine now,” you assure him, your voice rough from smoke inhalation.  

You absolutely are not fine, but you’re alive, and right now, that’s something. 

Even better, in your eyes, Paul is alive, and that’s the greatest miracle of all. 

You tilt your head in question, and without a word Paul answers with his lips on yours, a life-giving kiss that soothes the inferno in your soul as surely as the rain outside.

You sit together in a sodden pile, watching the house burn, before the rain starts to damper the flames. Too late for don Juan, you both are certain. On whose head lays the blame? Yours, for starting the fire? Paul’s, for leaving him? Or Juan’s himself, for being the man he was? 

You are too numb to suss it out, and Paul gingerly loads you into the Jeep to take you to the doctor in town, certain you both have worn out your welcome at Las Nubes.

*divider by animatedglittergraphics

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 55 Stress Posting

Greetings, dear void. It is time... FOR A HAKURI PoV CHAPTER! And more JP-EN yapping from me than usual because honestly, this chapter was cool, but it was mostly set-up for whatever's going to happen next week. There's not much to muse on without trending towards pure speculation rather fast. Plus I finally got access to the JP version so I've been despairing at how far I have to go to actually learn the damn language...

But hey! Another color page next week! Hokazono-sensei's really suffering from success isn't he? Kagurabachi's getting the top-tier marketing push now that it managed to get over 1M copies in circulation with only 4 volumes out. Maybe we'll start to see the same level of CPs as Akane Banashi soon!

Samura and the Makizumi

Who the hell are you?

Does whatever he's got going on explain the female bearer's super young appearance...? The EN TL leaves it vague here, but JP is pretty specific that his body is that of a child but he isn't one in truth.

Why the adult in a child's body thing at all though? Why mimic Samura like that too? And why are we getting that packaged with a lazy-yet-competent commander archetype? Something about the combination of traits for this character just rubs me the wrong way. The cognitive dissonance worked -I'm interested in him and his situation- but it's unpleasant to deal with. This introduction felt unexpected in a bad way. I bet I'll be a minority on that though so I'll keep my rubbish opinions about him to myself. Maybe.

I have a theory on why Mini Samura is copying our favourite blind fighter guy at least. The official name for the squad in Japanese is 神奈備御庭番-座村親衛隊 [Kamunabi oniwa-ban - Samura shineitai]. The professional EN TL will parse all that much better than I can, but I just want to point out something fun. The last word (親衛隊) means "elite guards"/"bodyguards". Most of the time. It can also mean "groupies" or "ardent fans". So take that and stuff it in your back pocket in case the squad doesn't job here.

Anyway, this chapter is why we met the Makizumi [巻墨] a few weeks ago in chapter 50. Yes, it's the same kanji as "Masumi" that they were introduced as. I'm not sure why since my Japanese is, uh, not great. But it's not an EN translation error. The original JP indicates that Uruha says ますみ [masumi] in Ch. 50 via the Ruby next to the kanji. This time, however, the Ruby over their name in the spread says まきずみ [makizumi]. At least it's not truly a new name I suppose? The meaning -Rolled Ink- stays the same regardless.

At any rate, these guys are definitely all going to live and fight another day. Because named teams full of elite personnel formed for a specific purpose have great survival and success rates in this series. Yup. (Maybe being ninja will make the difference? Somehow???)

Who trained these guys, I wonder... Samura's hella scary for an "assistant master".

Samura getting annoyed that his disciple joined the fight...! It's sweet of him to care and still treat Uruha like an apprentice in some ways. They're both war veterans who have seen and experienced too much, but some dynamics don't change with the passing of time.

I appreciate that the villains and their tactics are well-thought out. Adjusting to fight a blind man with super senses isn't done as well as one would like in many series, sadly. They often get to style all over their enemies because they're underestimated, then are treated like a sighted person with a gimmick thereafter. But the Hishaku ain't about that and have actively planned against him by scrambling his smell and hearing while also sending Mr. Hatshaku and his undetectable trees. Very smart on Hokazono-sensei's part!

This is just so awesome! The spreads of Chihiro and Hiyuki meeting and parting again in ch. 29 are two of my absolute favourites in the series so far, so to see it again (kinda) makes me happy.

Samura cut part of Uruha's topknot here. He played it that close, huh. It's pretty cool that Samura has a wild fighting style that his allies have to adjust around. Normally blind fighters are super precise but Samura's just slicing and dicing anything that's living and ready to kill! But if you're that good then I guess it's worth training a few people to be able to compliment your moveset so they can safely support you.

Samura and Uruha aren't in perfect sync, and Uruha's still willing to take risks and throw himself into danger. But he's more than capable of being an asset in this fight without guaranteeing he'll become a burden later (unlike a certain someone...).

Uh Oh

He's so cute with his big ol' eyes and pensive expression.

Did Chihiro whip out his phone while keeping Hiruhiko pinned to the seat with his foot!? Anyway, this is only the second time in the series where he hasn't appeared in even a single panel. So we get to spend a whole chapter getting exposition via Hakuri!

I'm gonna take some time to yap about him because it's been nearly three weeks since he showed up a lot and I missed him terribly.

Stop, stop, STOP!!

Note: Hakuri's line in the panel before (...俺だけじゃないか" ["I'm the only one."]) doesn't directly match up to Kyora's final line from Ch. 43 (私だけだ... 私だけが全うできなかった ["I'm the only one... who failed to fulfill my duty."]), so it's not a direct reference even if the TL makes it seem like one. Hakuri's sentiment is different- his is "I can't be the only one" vs. Kyora's "I'm actually the only one". There are just a lot of characters who are convicted in their beliefs in this manga!

So much for getting to recover in 30 minutes, I guess.

Really cool that we see the mask "assembling"! It's only been shown intact when he activates the storehouse sorcery up to this point. So it's a neat visual representation of his resolve coming together during the time crunch as well. Hakuri is nothing if not dedicated to hurting and throwing himself into danger for the sake of others. Even after Healer Lady set up a flag for him to become useless or worse if he does so here. Oh, Hakuri...

He's helping Chihiro because he wants to make the world a safer place. Plus his whole thing after Ice Lady is that he'll "never let a life slip through [his] hands again". It's exceptionally noble and heroic of him! But is it worth potentially derailing the plans via brain damage or permanent ability loss?

Hakuri's not gonna die, obviously. I'm also 50/50 on him losing access to his sorcery at all, much less permanently. But something's going to get fucked up here and it'll probably be his fault. Again. He's gotta learn how to value himself the hard way, apparently. All we can do is wait to see what price will be paid for Hakuri's reckless disregard for his own well-being. (I'm not sure how I feel about this, but what if Hakuri gets Healer Lady killed? He could go 2/2 on women who were kind to him dying because of his actions right in front of him. Man that would suck.)

This is looking to be like one of the developments I was hoping for at the end of the Rakuzaichi arc. Hakuri does NOT chill when it comes to saving lives. Being borderline suicidal about this is his way of atoning for his and his family's sins, in my mind. But is it better to risk your life every time, or let people get hurt -possibly die- to keep doing greater good in the long-run? It's a common question raised in super hero comics, and I hope we get to see it explored with Hakuri (and Uruha) here. I'm really interested in what Hokazono-sensei has to say about it and the dissonance it would cause in Hakuri's character.

Arc Soothsaying

This is just a supposition, and I've been wrong so many times that I'm kind of hesitant to put this out there, but here goes. I know I can be as cringey as I like in your ambivalent embrace, kind void.

I think... I think... Hakuri's growth this arc will be specifically learning to value himself enough that he's able to act against his ideals.

Recall how Hakuri was the one to point out that Uruha knew the value of his life in Chapter 48 when he would have charged right in. And now he's with Samura, the guy who fights and kills to preserve himself despite it going against his Buddhist beliefs. Hakuri's constantly pushing himself to the limit, refusing to let other people get hurt for his sake. He won't let himself be the only one risking his life even if there's no strategic value for him to act- even if it would most helpful for everyone if he ran to safety. So I think he's going to have to put saving his own life above anything else later this arc and it's going to be terrible for him.

It would compliment the theme of negative self-image that's been set up with Chihiro too. They're both heroic, though it usually comes across in completely opposite ways (Chihiro's in his villain era right now, for one). And both of them have a lot of work to do when it comes to learning how to love themselves. Hakuri to understand his own "value", Chihiro to understand he's not a monster.

Learning more about the Bearers, Kunishige, and what happened in the Seitei war will almost certainly help Chihiro to realize he really isn't so different from the heroes he idolizes. As for Hakuri, it's hard to say right now. Uruha's going to be important to his growth I'm fairly certain. But we haven't even met all the Bearers yet so I don't want to start thinking in absolutes about who will help who and in what way.

We also have to wait and see what becomes of Hiruhiko after this encounter. He's obviously meant to be a counter to both Hakuri and Chihiro; how that manifests, exactly, is something I'm looking forward to seeing. It'll give more insight on how we can expect them to develop. Chihiro and Hiruhiko are pretty blatant right now with their outlook on what it means to kill and such, and there's set up for Hiruhiko to clash with Hakuri over what it means to be an equal and a friend.

For Chihiro and Hakuri... too early to say. Need to see what happens at Senkutsuji. My instincts are saying a rift of some kind will form between them over killing, equality, and/or their self-sacrificing tendencies but I'm always wrong, so. Just waiting and watching on that for now.

Anyway. Thanks as always, void. Here's hoping our boys don't have to suffer too much in the coming weeks/months. Except Hiruhiko. He can suffer enough for all of them.

[false-cowboy]

Do you have any litrpg recs?

OH BOY DO I

I will attempt to give little descriptions but I'm not the best at writing so if nothing else I hope the names pique your interest! This post will be more personal opinion than direct plot summary, though if you'd like I can add those too

Noobtown: Humor is a bit high school boy especially in this first one, but it definitely gets some full body cackles outta me. Though this is a comedy series supposedly, it knows how to tug at your heart strings with some genuinely good characters and an interesting break of the system surrounding the book itself. More than anything, this shits Fun. It gets really interesting, Shart the demon is a pathetic mound of anger issues, Jim’s name is the equivalent of a dog’s in this world, all hail Badgalor king of the badgers, fuck the fecking puma forest.

Chaos Seeds: Classic of the genre, though definitely dated and the series degrades with the more recent books. Very nice magic system, one of the better uses I've seen, and the characters are notably very colorful/fun. Good fights and damn graphic, isn't afraid to be gruesome though there is a beating heart of humanity through the series I personally enjoy

Dungeon Crawler Carl (mix of LitRPG and apocalyptic dungeon elements, what it says on the tin): one of the best, and I mean BEST of this genre in my opinion. extraordinarily dark and horrifically funny. This shit will depress you as you giggle at it. But its just so damn good with some really nice underlying as well as overt commentary. More gorgeous character writing though here it's all Carl and the beautiful Princess Dount (his show winning, talking, cat whom deserves the universe in her paws) all the way. Very absurdist humor by the by, if that's your thing

Ascend Online (town builder litrpg): I mainly love this one for something that happens I think at the end of the first book though it might be the second. It sort of flips the magic system against our hero in a wonderfuly monstrous way. This one is Very Big, and honestly a little boring at times. But the game mechanics and magic system are drooling off of the page, begging to be thought about. Our main character is smart and resourceful, as a veteran of video games he capitalizes his knowlage for a satisfying build. If you’re really into game mechanics this shit was MADE for you, it is also just plain interesting. Good ideas and good fight scenes to go around for everyone! And mainly I just consider it a bit boring because I listened to the audiobook and the narrator read off the Entire Status Page ever like chapter which, if you're an avid LitRPG reader, you’ll understand the pain involved in such a thing

He Who Fights With Monsters: Another insanely long book, another absolute banger. While personally I'm not a fan of the series as it progresses, the first one is a full experience all on its own, lightning in a bottle to me. The main character is one of the best I’ve read about, the magic system is deliciously unique, the side characters are memorable as hell, but most of all I adore the worldbuilding in HWFWM SO fucking much. I have like full posts thirsting after it GOD. I could sit here and just talk. This is one of the best on the list to me, right up there with Dungeon Crawler Carl; even better in the side character department

Ritualist (The Completionist Chronicles): This one’s strengths are a surprising mix of absurdist comedy and a somewhat well thought out magic system. The writing is,,, Not The Best especially compared to some others, but it was a fun and very quick read, especially compared to some others on this list. a popcorn turn your brain off read

System Apocalypse (While most LitRPG exist in fantasy worlds, this one is a post-apocalyptic sci-fi vibe): This is another short one. It takes place in Canada and the main character is a ball of severe anger issues and angst, he has a very cool motorcycle and kicks hella ass. It’s great. His companion is top tier as well, there may or may not be a hot space elf prince involved. If you don't like romance you’re still good though because there isn’t any since John is a pussy ass bitch. Sorry, sorry, I'm trying to be fair and balanced. It's good! John is definitely a flawed individual, I think people often miss a lot of the little nuances in his character and write him off as petulant and pissed (to be fair, he is) but to me at least there's a bit more going on. Even if he can be genuinely irritating to read about

And finally, my two favorite series... and guilty pleasures

The Good Guys: A quintessential barbarian. Think of a barbarian character. Boom. There it is. That’s our man Montana Coggshall. this series is my version of embarrassment exposure therapy, Montana is constantly being humiliated and nothing good ever happens to him. But Also, this is not a sad or angsty or dark series at all. Its fun and light and god are the fights amazing. a fantasy romp to its core. Charming and delicious and fun and action packed to the gills.

The Bad Guys: A quintessential rouge. Think of a rogue character. Boom. There it is. That’s our man Clide Hatchett. This series has a style and comedy and charm to i cannot physically understate and there are So Many genuinely clever moments

there are so many characters that fuck around with morality and right/wrong and different view points that make the world feel so lived in

Everything from plumbing to lumberjacks is explored and given loving attention.

Reading it feels like coming home, I honestly don't care that the plot has turned into side quests and atm the side characters haven't gotten enough time in the spot light

The main character and fucking sheer amazing awkward kind conflicted energy of his dialogue, I've developed a connection to Eric ugland's style of writing further than I thought and I can't get enough of this shit. Also every problem Clide Hatchett has is solved with some sort of fucking batshit way I Adore

He's the guy who used a dagger that could travel through liquid to travel through a guys stomach and out the other side. Did I mention how gorey these books are? Because Yeah. I adore Clide Hatchet, my favorite character to ever be written in any place ever. He walks into places he absolutely shouldn't be, gets called elf boy, kicks everybody's ass while simultaneously being the most awkward and uncoordinated mess elvenly possible, then leaves. He is in the palace throne room profusely apologizing to the servants for getting dirt on the floor and beating the shit out of the king, he is at the altar of your wedding punching you in the face and then turning around and tripping on his dress, he is calling himself a hero before robbing a home blind. And also he keeps on shoving acid globs down people's throats and managing to do that while maintaining pure silly little guy energy is genuinely character writing talent. He's perfect. Yes it is very dorky.

Eric Ugland (who wrote both the Good Guys and Bad Guys series) has this way of writing, this STYLE I cannot properly articulate how much I find myself in love with it. though I will warn you I'm definitely bias, since I've been following both of these series almost since conception my perception could be entirely skewed by nostalgia

[imliketheiceifreeze]

Norman Nordstrom x reader

A rose by any other name-part one

warnings: violence, eventual smut, age gap, possible abusive relationship, slight stalking, minors DNI

945 words

[Just a short story, not sure where it's going yet lol]

Master list:

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

You walked passed the house once again. You would never admit to anyone the purposeful detour you took in hopes of seeing him. Norman Nordstrom, you thought his name was, whenever your eyes laid upon him he would be tending to the flowers at his border, or walking his dog around the yard. The poor man had lost his eyesight in the Gulf war, not shortly after he lost his whole family due to a reckless drunk driver. You weren't sure why you felt this pull to the old man, easily old enough to be your grandfather, yet you couldn't deny the dreams that came to you during lonely nights and your cheeks burned as you turned away from the house, a small smile dusting your lips.

Strange, the door seemed open but you couldn't see Norman or his dog anywhere. Should you investigate? I mean what sort of person wouldn't check on a vulnerable blind man? That was the justification you used at least when you ventured towards the open door of the house of a man you had never so much as spoken to.

"Hello. Is everything okay? I was just walking passed and noticed your door was open,"

you called into the house as you poked your head round the door. Your voiced trailed off into a gasp as you noticed the man curled up on the floor, blood pouring from his right side as he gasped for air.

"Oh my goodness,"

you murmured as you rushed to his side, falling to your knees as you fumbled with your phone.

"Sir? What happened?"

He barely acknowledged your presence, only wheezing and clutching at his side.

"You need to keep pressure on the wound,"

you mumbled as you pressed your hands above his, feebly attempting to stop the flow of blood as you clumsily punched the three magic numbers into your phone with the other hand.

"Shot,"

He managed between gasps as he finally seemed to register you.

"You were shot? Okay don't worry, I'm calling for help, you're going to be okay,"

you spoke firmly, looking him dead in the eye, even though you knew he wouldn't be able to see your determined expression. You couldn't help but rub your thumb reassuringly over his hand as you turned your attention back to the phone.

"Yes please help, a man's been shot, he's losing a lot of blood, please."

You were on the verge of tears from the stress as the dispatcher attempted to calm you.

"We'll be there soon, just keep pressure on the wound, is the victim responsive?"

You couldn't remember anything after this, only concentrating on Norman, watching the life fade from his face as tears dripped down your cheeks.

"Don't let go, please stay with me Norman, stay with me."

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

"News is with us that visually impaired war veteran, Norman Nordstrom, has been the victim of a vicious home invasion. However, he is stable, suffering only minor injuries, and should be making a full recovery."

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

One week later

You sat in the hospital waiting room, heart beating out of your chest, clammy hands fiddling with the flimsy petals of the flowers you'd stupidly brought with you as some kind of get well soon gift. You felt so out of place.

"Y/N."

You jumped to your feet, flattening the creases in your clothes, before making your way over to the nurse.

"He's ready to see you dear, just follow me."

Wordlessly, you shadowed her to the outside of a private room.

"He's just in there."

She spoke so softly, as if she were worried her words might break you. You smiled nervously in her direction before pushing down on the handle, entering the room slowly.

"Hi, Norman?"

Your voice trembled

"and who the hell are you?"

His words cut through you like ice, chilling you to the core. You knew this was stupid, this is what always happens, how could you have been so fucking moronic.

"Well?" His gravelly voice ran shivers up your spine,

"I, uh, well I was there when you were shot, I mean I found you, and I just wanted to uh bring you these,"

you squeaked out, moving closer to the bed and pressing the flowers gingerly into one of his hands. His gaze seemed to soften at your words as he brought the flowers to his other hand, inspecting the petals.

"You brought these for me?"

He seemed bewildered

"I know you can't see them but I always notice you tending to the flowers in your garden and I thought maybe they'd remind you of home, I don't know, it's stupid..."

You trailed off. a small smiled tickled the sides of his mouth as he replied

"Have you been watching me?"

"I live a few houses down, I just walk past from time to time, I'm sorry I never said hello."

"Well thank you... what's your name then? I assume you know everything about me from the damned news papers."

There was a twinge of sadness in his gruff voice as he seemed to get lost in thought.

"Its Y/N, Y/N L/N,"

you said softly, eyes trailing across the lines in his handsome face, down to the soft white beard and cracked lips, turned upward at the corners.

"Y/N,"

he repeated you, the sound of your name on his lips making your cheeks warm.

"Well I guess I should go... I hope you get better soon Norman,"

you blabbered as you turned on your heel, practically sprinting out of the door. Norman said nothing as he attempted to quell the possessive feeling burning in the pit of his stomach.

[alkalineapparition]

Give

Chapter 16 - The buckling sutures

König x You

Darkness.

It's been years, you think. Unsure of if there was anything before, or would be anything after, you've stopped trying to claw your way out.

Silence. 

Just you, alone. It's lonely, you think. But you can't be sure - you've known nothing else. 

When you have nothing, how can you even begin to understand anything other? The opposite is incomprehensible. 

Light.

And oh, it blinds you (were you not before? Is darkness the thief of sight, or is it a light you cannot see beyond?).

Cacophony.

The whir of machinery, beeping, clicking -

Click.

Click. 

Click.

The air in your lungs is water - suffocating, drowning. Each inhale is a fresh hell. 

For one wild moment you live in the past. In that wretched VA hospital, fucking rotting away -

No.

No .

You are here, you are now. But you've got to breathe, dammit. Can't do it in here. Never here.

Shakily, you pull yourself from the bed and stumble into the hall. No shoes, no coat, in nothing but your night clothes, you throw your body through the closest exit.

The ground is cool beneath your feet. Head between your knees, a violent wail climbs it's way from your chest, slips from your throat. The sound is broken and pitiful. You are pitiful, broken-

König POV

Tonight is the kind of night König likes most. In the wee hours of the morning, when all is still, he is truly alone. No prying eyes to perform for, no lingering stares that shy away upon meeting his eyes, no one shrinking away in terror. He feels human.

But as always, peace for him is short lived. A loud crash behind him has him rotated 180 in short order, hand automatically resting upon his firearm. But he does not see the errant solider raring for a fight or the intruder he expected.

No, he sees a small, broken bird - crumpled to the ground, precariously holding the pieces herself together with trembling hands. A mournful wail pierces the night, the desolate sound making his hair stand on end, goosebumps pricking his flesh. It is equally heart wrenching and eerie, a sorrowful lament calling out to an unforgiving vacuity. 

But he recognizes the shattered little thing, the silhouette is familiar. 

Atlas.

And oh, how that just rips him apart. To see you like this, so wretched and aching. He cannot stand it.

"Täubchen..." His voice is soft as he crouches down, hand reaching for you. You flinch away, a small sob passing through your lips. Tears soak the mask covering your cheeks, shining softly where they gather beneath your lashes, and the sorrow in your eyes when you look up nearly brings him to his knees.

König has never been a soft man. He has seen many horrors in his time, has been responsible for at least half of them. But your pain topples the barriers he has so dutifully erected, tears at whatever wriggling remnants of his heart that are left. 

"What happened?" The words are low and pleading, and he cannot recognize his own voice. It is too gentle, too soft to be him.

"Bad dream." Your voice is small, choked.

He sits next to you, hesitating a moment before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He expects you to go stiff, but you surprise him by leaning your weight against him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. 

Then, a most peculiar thing happens.

A warmth spreads in his chest, a little flutter of something in his gut. How odd.

He swallows against the feeling.

"Tell me," he urges. 

Another choked noise escapes, a shuddering inhale against his neck.

"I... I was back there, in that place. So dark..." You pause, body twitching, as though your muscles are fighting the memory. "Two years, they left me to rot. I was asleep for weeks, felt like... like I was in hell. Thought I died and-" you break off, unable to finish. 

Though vague, König has a pretty good idea of what you are talking about. The injury mentioned in your file from your last mission, it had left you incapacitated in the veterans hospital for close to two years - with a nearly month long coma to kick it off. 

But he hardly thinks this is the time to mention he has seen your unredacted file. You are an intensly private person, so he leaves it be for now. 

His arm tightens around you. "You are here with me, Täubchen." You nod, sniffing miserably. "Come. Back to bed now, I will help you." 

When he has managed to hobble you both into your room, he lets out a sigh of relief. Eyes drooping in exhaustion, you give no fight as he directs you back to bed. But as he turns to leave, a soft tugging on his sleeve stops him. 

He turns, and his heart clenches at the raw look in your eyes. "I don't want to dream again. Can we... talk?"

König tilts his head in confusion. "About?"

You shrug, no longer meeting his eyes. "Anything. About you, I mean." König raises his brows. "About me?" When was the last time anyone asked him a question that did not have to do with infiltration strategy or reconnaissance? He cannot remember. Perhaps when he first met Horangi. Though he had soon learned that he would be met with silence more often than answers, and so had just... stopped asking.

König grunts. "What would you like to know?"

A tiny smile creases the corners of your eyes, illuminated by the bit of moonlight streaming through your window. Your visible feautures are an understated kind of lovely, he realizes with surprise, even marred as they are by sorrow. How had he not noticed before? Your gentle eyes, inquisitive brows scrunched in supplication, the delicate bridge of your nose... The sight softens him as he sits, resigning himself to staying just a bit longer. He is, as you would say, a sucker.

And so, he tells you about the small village in Austria that he calls home and the dish his mother made every Sunday because it was his favorite. He speaks of rolling foothills turning to awe-some mountains that cradle ever green valleys in the spring, and dancing around the Maypole to welcome the seasons bounty. Of swimming in crystalline rivers to escape the lingering summer heat, and snow-capped winters with warm fires. He recounts the crisp autumn air and vibrant leaves in a breath taking array of red, orange, and gold, how the Alps almost seem ablaze with the vivid hues, long twilight walks and quiet evenings spent stargazing. 

He does not mention the cruelty of his peers, or the sadness he often caught lingering in his mother's eyes, does not speak on the lonliness and isolation of his adolescence. Instead, he chooses to remain in the softer moments, the pretty pictures he paints for you. He does not wish to ruin the content look on your face.

No, König talks of a simple life. A simple life filled with simple pleasures that he had long forgotten to miss.

[izfaish]

[go go loser ranger manga spoilers - vol. 6 | ch. 43-42]

SSHSNDJDJDUKSJDHS

i don't even know if i can be coherent here odjdjfjf

what a way to start the volume. GOD i love the internal struggle. the imaginary dream sequence. the way it almost mirrors the meal scene with the dragon keepers, with peltrola coming in and killing that chef the way akabane killed his jfc. it's nit a 1-to-1 comparison but it just reminded me of that same old rottenness. and the fact that sakurama is d's conscience so to speak... oufjfjfjfj

it makes sense that d would resolve to get rid of both the dragons keepers AND the executives. to him, they're the same. it is heartwarming to see him regard his cadet buddies as special, so much so that d is unsettled by the idea that HE would hold such power over them. the same power and authority that he despises from the dragon keepers and executives.

HIS EYES. HE HAS THE UNSETTLING SPARKLES! NO D YOU'RE FALLING INTO THE TRAP!!

ok i just wanted to say that this made me laugh. like first nadeshiko's panacea thing was funny and then suzukiri pulls out a tv remote like HELLO????

i love d standing up for himself like this but i can also see the slippery slope of becoming like the executives... getting what you want and forcing that onto others... i wouldn't be surprised if d one day becomes an executive and has to grapple with that. hell, maybe in the later chapters he becomes a dragon keeper AND executive... damn.

i will say, peltrola is an interesting antagonist. someone so holier-than-thou who sees themselves as a god,,, an interesting match-up to the dragon keepers' divine sense of authority, what with their divine dragon tools.

okay i did not like blue keeper when he was introduced, but i think that's normal. i still don't like him but i do find him a lot more interesting and i appreciate his sense of self-awareness. living your life knowing you toe the line between good and evil, never committing fully to one, and feeling that your resolve wavers because of it... like damn. you did not deserve to die. you deserved to live and commit to doing better. death isn't redemption, it's just a tragedy. speaking of..

holy hell. the way d's murder of blue keeper was actually horrifying. just... the juxtaposition between d achieving his goal but feeling empty with loss anyway just hit so hard.

also (backtracking a bit) lil hibiki and tokita!!!!!! would not be surprised if tokita modeled his look after aogama. also aoyome and aogama's relationship is sweet. i like how she sees the best in him even if the worst of him shouldn't be ignored or excused.

OKAY i didn't realize there's an image limit so here's my other fav panels:

;u; xx,,,, they're both just trying to carve meaning out of their existence (that backstory into d was also just... ough. there's,,, probably parallels there with blue keeper. raised to be a shield, a scapegoat, a loser... god...

THE WAY I INTERNALLY SCREAMED. I'M SO HAPPY WAAAAAAAA

the fav is alive i am JUMPING FOR JOY

NO IDEA if koguma will be like,,, a friend or ally. or used as bait or get hurt again,,, leave him alone pls. also rip sojiro, you were a real one. really symbolic that the oldest veteran cadet of them there died, kinda symbolizes the passing of a baton... damn. rest in peace.

also - suzukiri! achieved her goal once more. she's so so interesting. i wonder what sakurama is up to...

okay look. i like sesera a lot but her thing with sakurama is NOT IT DNDMFNND. i know it's a trope but the fcking body pillow was so weird, like cmon. i still like her though, she's my fav of the dragon keepers. that,, might change going forward im not sure. i do like,,, sharks,, green keeper arc is next? shark teeth a+ design heeeee.

ONTO VOLUME 7 WAHOOOO

[executethyself35]

Let's See How Far We've Come: Episode 1

pairings: BoB x ocs

a/n: the time throughout the day might seem wonky, has actually been proofread, for future chapters: this is based off of the show and the actors representations of these men, i mean no offense to the actual veterans.

warnings: slight cursing

Toccoa, Georgia, 1942 

Everyone got to the barracks at different times, trains coming from different states and cities taking somewhat longer or shorter. The first one there was probably Eliza Thomlin. With her being from Asheville and all. Eliza arrived at 5 am and waited for maybe five hours until another girl came. The girl was taller than Eliza. Her skin was much paler than Eliza's, with a near-white complexion. Her curly blonde hair framed her pretty face. The girl then introduced herself.

“Hello my name’s Torrance, everyone calls me Torrie though,” she had a British accent, which was strange being that they were in the south.

“I’m Eliza, ain’t you supposed to be on the other side of the pond?” asked Eliza. 

Before answering, Torrie let out a laugh, “Yea, I guess so, but I haven’t been to the other side since I was 15.” 

 “Well, I didn’t expect that, where are you from now?” Eliza let out a chuckle.

 “Hattiesburg, Mississippi, you?” 

 “Asheville, North Carolina, I’ve been sitting here for 5 hours waiting for someone to show up.” 

 “Well, you got someone to talk to now,” Torrie laughed again. Eliza smiled, she knew she was gonna have a friend here. About an hour later, a dark-skinned girl showed up, who spoke quickly with a clear New Orleans accent. “Y’all here for the female parachute infantry?”

 Eliza immediately replied, “Yup, what’s your name?”

 “Olive-Marie LeBeau, most people call me Olive though,” the girl replied.

 “I’m Eliza.” 

 Torrie piped in, “And I’m Torrie,” her accent seemed to surprise Olive.

“Well at least it’s nice to see a familiar face,” Olive replied. Over the hour that Eliza and Torrie were talking, Eliza found out Torrie was mixed and just so happened to be albino also. “Yea, it is, you look shocked by my accent” Torrie replied.

Olive laughed, “Well, you don’t hear a British accent in America all that often.”   Torrie replied, “Well you got that right.” 

A few hours later two other girls showed up. They were around the same height. One had olive skin and medium brown hair, and the other had tan skin and black hair. The black-haired one spoke up immediately, “What’s all y’all’s names? I’m Bianca Hernandez.” 

 Everyone introduced themselves except the brown-haired girl. “What’s your name girl?” asked Olive.

“I’m Marselle Rosaliano,” the girl answered in a sweet tone. “I like your hair, Eliza, it suits your eyes.” 

Eliza was bright ginger with bright green eyes, and that comment made her face as bright as her hair. It was later into the afternoon and the girls who had shown up already had retreated inside the barracks. There was a knock on the door, Bianca had yelled for whoever it was to come in. In walked the tallest of the girls gathered, she was built and had long black hair and dark eyes, and she looked menacing. Bianca asked, “What’s your name?”

“It’s Zipporah Fieldman,” said the girl. 

Bianca grinned while lying on her side in one of the barracks beds. “Well, I’m gonna call you Zippo because there’s no way in hell I’m gonna remember that.”

Zippo let out a chuckle, “That’s better than Zippy, what’s your name?”

 “Bianca,” she replied. 

“Well, I’ll call you B.”

 B chuckled, “That’s creative.”

“Yea and so is Zippo asshole,” Zippo replied grinning. Everyone started talking and having a good time and started creating nicknames for the ones who didn’t have one already. Olive became Ollie. They tried to make Eliza ‘Lizzy’ until she shot that down in a heartbeat angrily, no one questioned it and they moved on. Marselle politely declined being given a nickname. 

It was about 2 hours later and what seemed to be the last of the girls had arrived. She seemed to be about Marselle and B’s height, she had dark red hair and pale skin, she and Eliza looked like they could be sisters. She knocked on the door and walked into the barracks. Everyone stopped talking and looked up at her. Until Zippo perked up “What’s your name?”

“Mary McCullen,'' the girl introduced herself.

“I’m Zippo, that’s B, that’s Ollie, that’s Torrie, that’s Marselle, and that’s Eliza,” Zippo introduced herself and everyone else. Everyone greeted each other and started shooting the shit. Until one last girl barged into the room. She looked like she was ready to give everyone an order, she glared at all of them. A look that made all the girls get out of their beds and stand at attention. Now, she was the tallest out of all of them, she had short straight blonde hair. She spoke with an authoritative tone. “I’m Lieutenant Harten, I’ll be leading you ladies. You girls are now officially apart of the 101st Airborne, you neanderthalettes are gonna be apart of the 506th’s E Company, you all better prove yourself tomorrow and show that a women’s division isn’t a stupid idea, because tomorrow is when you meet the boys of Easy and show them what you’re made of. Now go get some food because for some reason they decided to keep y’all separate from the boys for as long as possible,” the Lieutenant let out a laugh. And so it begins…

Taglist!!: @1waveshortofashipwreck, @dontirrigateme, @blueberry-ovaries, @montied, @scotchballs9, @xxluckystrike, @ithinkabouttzu, @themysciraprincess, if you want to be added or removed from the list, message me or send me an ask and i'll take you off or add you!!

[waywardxwords]

4. No Going Back Now

Chapter 4 of Little Secrets

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,611

Warnings: Fluff? No warnings, really.

MASTERLIST

The drive was so far silent besides the music coming from the cassettes Dean had chosen for the nine-hour road trip from Sioux Falls to Cicero. This was fairly normal; their drives were usually filled with the likes of ACDC, Kansas and Metallica over real conversation. The thoughts running through Y/N’s mind weren’t as common. Sure, she had thought about Sam before. He had crossed her mind on more than one occasion and definitely more times than she really wanted to admit. But this time was different.

Her phone brought her out of her thoughts as it vibrated from within her denim jacket pocket.

Sam

How ya doing back there?

Her eyes glanced from the bright iPhone screen to Sam’s profile, but he was unreadable. His jaw was set in a firm line; his eyes stared off into the oncoming traffic.

She moved her fingers along as she wrote back.

I’m not sure, exactly. What are you thinking about?

It sounded stupid in her head, but her fingers moved faster than her brain could process and she somehow hit send before she could recant anything she had typed. She tried to stealthily hide the fact that she had texted someone; her eyes glanced up to the rearview mirror where Dean was focused on the road. He hadn’t seemed to notice Sam’s phone light up, but Y/N observed Sam steal a side-glance at his brother before opening the screen to his phone.

She watched his fingers type back and gnawed on her bottom lip gently before her phone vibrated against her thigh once more.

Sam

I’m thinking about you.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, but she quickly pulled her face into a straight line, afraid Dean might catch on. Why am I hiding from Dean? The question didn’t make sense to her, but Sam hadn’t said anything either. And in their defense, this was all so new…whatever exactly this was, neither of them had figured that out yet.

Y/N quickly typed back. 

Okay, Romeo. Reign in.

The text made Sam laugh out loud, which was sweet, until Y/N noticed it had caught Dean’s attention. Dean glanced at his brother with a furrowed brow, then back to the road, and then to Sam once more. Sam cleared his throat and straightened his expression, pulling his lips into a tight line.

“You doin’ alright over there?” Dean asked tentatively with a curious look. “Anything you wanna share with the rest of us?”

Y/N’s heart beat rapidly in her chest.

“Just…” Sam’s voice trailed off as he tried to come up with something to say. “Just a funny text from Bobby, that’s all.”

Dean’s reaction was one of disbelief. “Since when does Bobby text?”

Sam became visibly defensive. He ran his palms down the thighs of his jeans and straightened in the seat. “I don’t know, since now?” Great answer, Y/N thought sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. They were doomed.

Thankfully, they were officially in Cicero and an exit was rapidly approaching. Even though Sam’s response to Dean had been less than stellar, he somewhat redeemed himself by changing the topic.

“We should probably stop soon, it’s a holiday weekend so hotels are probably going to be slim picking,” he averted his gaze out the window. Y/N tried to think of what holiday Sam was referencing but came up with nothing.

“Holiday weekend?” Dean’s what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about tone was in full force. 

“Yeah, Dean. It’s Veteran’s Day,” Sam looked at his older brother like he was an idiot. Oh. Thank you, veterans, for saving my ass, both in the past as well as this present moment. Y/N felt her stomach tumble as she nervously eyed Dean’s reaction in the rearview mirror. He was too focused on trying to picture a calendar (and probably recall what day it even was). He finally raised his eyebrows and muttered a “hmm” in thought. 

“Well, damn. I guess you’re right,” Y/N was certain Dean had no idea whether Sam was right or not, but he merged onto the exit ramp, nonetheless. “I doubt Cicero is much of a holiday get-away kinda town, but might as well. Beats sleeping in Baby.”

Y/N would second that. While she loved the Impala wholeheartedly, Baby cramped her style when it came to sleeping arrangements–quite literally.

“Besides, I doubt I’m gonna need a place to stay tonight. Think I’ve got that one covered,” he smiled a smug grin in Sam’s direction. Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t say a word; the subject had been changed, that was all he cared about.

Dean pulled into the parking lot of the first sleazy motel he found. Y/N barely had enough time to shut the back door as he hit the gas, turning up dust and dirt from the parking lot in his path.

“You kids have fun!” He yelled as he drove off towards his old flame’s neighborhood.

Y/N scoffed as he took off, flipping him the middle finger, which he graciously reciprocated out the driver’s window. “He’s such an ass,” she mumbled, her frustration distracting her from the tall man who stood next to her.

Sam smirked and shook his head as he slung his arm across her shoulders and took her heavy duffel bag from her. “Let’s just check in, alright?”

Y/N felt the frustration drain from her body with the weight of the duffel. It was bizarre to her how Sam could do that–just make every ounce of stress dissipate from her body. It was something he had been able to do ever since she started hunting with the Winchesters.

Sam headed into the lobby to get two rooms, one for the boys and one for Y/N, while she waited outside with the bags. She folded her arms across her chest and rocked on her heels as she waited, trying desperately not to focus on the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach.

“You ready?” Sam’s voice took her out of her thoughts and she nodded quickly as she followed him to the row of rooms. Sam grabbed both duffels and Y/N pulled her backpack up onto her shoulder. He handed her the key that belonged to her room and she took the lead. She pushed the door open and tossed the bag to the floor by the end table.

______________

All sorts of thoughts flooded Y/N’s brain as she settled onto her queen-sized bed in the motel room. Sam had his computer open, researching the reason they had come to this town in the first place. Y/N was still convinced the poor vic had simply endured a freak accident, but she admired Sam’s thoroughness. He would treat it like a case until he could prove otherwise…maybe that was the lawyer in him.

They rested with their backs against the headboard of Y/N’s bed, Sam’s arm draped over her shoulders while the other hand typed various keywords into Google searches. His eyes scanned various newspaper articles and clippings that had been posted online related to any mysterious deaths in Cicero recently.

Meanwhile, Y/N rested her head on Sam’s shoulder with her knees pulled towards her chest. She flipped through the entries of John Winchester’s journal, though she really wasn’t sure what she was looking for. She wasn’t as motivated as Sam; in her mind, they had traveled all this way so Dean could have a hook-up with an old fling. Sure, the accident was crazy, but she didn’t think it was their kind of crazy.

She found herself distracted with a loose thread dangling on Sam’s flannel right by the buttons that kept the shirt secured over his abdomen. Close proximity was not necessarily new for Sam and Y/N. The kissing, holding hands, arms around each other–that was new.

“What do you think Dean would say about all…this?” She didn’t really know how else to ask but it was something that had been replaying in her mind and there was no escaping it.

Sam tore his gaze from the screen of his laptop and glanced down at Y/N. ��Initially? Probably something like ‘about time’. Bobby, however, would probably call us idgits. Dean might agree a little…”

“Why would they call us idgits?” Y/N met his stare with her eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

“The whole ‘saving people, hunting things’,” Sam sighed as he pulled the laptop off of his lap. “It’s risky.” He shrugged. “Dean and I don’t get involved with people because it’s dangerous for them and it’s dangerous for us.”

Y/N contemplated only for a second before she answered. “Yeah, but I’m already a hunter. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“It does,” Sam answered as his gaze fell to Y/N’s hands. He played with her fingers absentmindedly in the palm of his hand; she sensed a ‘but’ coming… “But demons usually focus on hitting our weaknesses and for me and Dean, we’re weak when it comes to people we care about.” 

Y/N felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips. It was a ‘beat-around-the-bush’ way for Sam to express that he cared about her, but he expressed it, nonetheless.

“I care about you too, Sam,” her words were soft and barely audible, but Sam heard her loud and clear. Before his brain could process anything else, he lifted her chin with his index finger and lowered his lips to hers.

The rush they both felt as their lips landed together cautiously was overwhelming. Both were only slightly wary as they deepened their movements, carefully exploring each other. Even in being cautious, Y/N couldn’t help herself as she moved to place her body as close to Sam as possible. He instinctively reached underneath her thighs to pull her onto his lap, her legs straddling either side of him.

Y/N’s hands cupped Sam’s face, her fingers rubbed along the light stubble of his jaw line. She felt herself get lost in the moment as Sam’s lips moved against hers. He tested the waters as he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth. His tongue tentatively glided out over her lip, crossing yet another border. At that point, Y/N felt her body completely succumb to Sam.

His large, calloused fingertips pressed down on her hips–their movement had caused her to squirm a bit, which had in turn caused her t-shirt to rise slightly. Goosebumps bubbled all over her as his fingertips made contact with her warm skin.

Y/N barely pulled back, her breathing heavy. Sam’s lips found their way to her neck, kissing and sucking and nipping until she couldn’t take anymore.

“Sam,” she whispered breathlessly, her eyes closed shut as she reveled in the feeling of his lips upon her flushed skin. Her fingers tangled at the nape of his neck in locks of his hair, ultimately holding him to her. She pulled his head away gently and opened her eyes. “Sam, we should stop.”

Reluctantly, Sam detached his lips from her neck and took a few steady breaths. His eyes found hers as he seemed to search for an answer. 

“So we both agree that we care about each other…” she began to dissect the situation. She forced herself to look away from his eyes–those damn eyes made her drunk, practically. She watched him nod in agreement as his hands toyed with hers again.

“But we both also realize this is dangerous,” he interjected, his voice disappointed.

“So…” Y/N trailed on. “How about we just don’t tell anyone?” She asked, hopeful. “No one has to know…” she tried to reason. The warmth that had managed to pool in her stomach when Sam had kissed her the way he had made her want more. No monster, Dean or Bobby could stop her, as far as she was concerned.

Sam smiled with a chuckle but rolled his eyes as he focused on intertwining their fingers. “Dean’s too smart for that. I was pretty sure he had us made in the car earlier.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t,” Y/N seemed to think she could master reasoning with the youngest Winchester. “Or maybe he did and he doesn’t care?” She took her bottom lip between her teeth again, a nervous habit.

“Highly doubtful,” Sam laughed gently. He used his thumb to pull on Y/N’s chin, freeing her lip from the grasp of her teeth. “Yeah, well, if we’re going to keep this a secret, you’re going to have to stop doing that.” 

Y/N laughed as she felt her lips with her fingertips just as Sam’s cell phone sounded with a call from the nightstand. He reached over for the device and flashed the screen towards her. It was Dean.

“Hey,” Sam said into the receiver, putting the call on speaker phone.

“Dude, there is a job here,” Dean’s words echoed off the walls of the motel room.

While Sam and Dean talked specifics, Y/N mentally prepared herself. She felt Sam’s hand tighten around hers in a comforting squeeze. Well, there’s no going back now.

[localicecreambiter]

Chapter 2 is finally ouuutt and it only took like... a montth

ignore that :P

heres the Ao3 link, but I'll post the chapter text below this time too

Legend was not having a great day… then again, when did he ever?

New quest from the Goddess was going just great. Absolutely fantastic. Because apparently 6 adventures wasn’t enough as it stood. No, the goddesses seemingly were not satisfied with that, so a 7th was sent his way. Perks of being the favorite I guess, he thought with a tired bitterness. He stopped tracking the time they’d spent on the road after the first two weeks. It wasn’t worth the upkeep with everything going on, so why bother? Clearly Hylia’s business (it was easiest to blame her) wouldn’t be resolved any time soon, so there was no point in torturing himself by timing how long it took to get back home.

They’d gone through dozens of worlds, multiple Hyrules: some places unknown to any of them, some they call home. To say Legend had anticipated another world hopping adventure so soon would be lying, but who would know? Hylia knows not anyone else in the Chain. He could lie his ass off about virtually anything, and they’d believe it without a second thought. The few graces of being the group veteran. …not that he intended to do that. No, he liked the group too much to be that much of an ass to them.

Ah yes, the group. The Chain. His brothers in arms. His annoying compatriots that enjoyed loud mornings and exaggerated stories around the fire at night (also very loud). They were a rowdy group, sure, but Legend found he didn’t mind it all that much as the days went on. Wild may set things on fire more often than not; Twilight smelled of wet dog and talked too much about goats; Wind couldn’t keep his mouth shut, bombarding the group with questions about the most mundane things (seriously! He knew the kid was from the middle of the ocean but Legend refused to believe their resident sailor didn’t know what a pinecone was). Warriors had an ego the size of Death Mountain (great battle strategist all things considered); he admittedly knew little about Four, seemingly the most level headed of their group, but they got along together just fine. Hyrule was… well, Legend quite liked the traveler (though he’d hardly ever admit it). Time liked to keep to himself, only fueling the chaos on a few occasions, looking out for each and every one of them no matter the situation. Despite his qualms and complaints, the past however long they had spent traveling together weaved a tight knit trust and deep seeded care within the group. Not even Legend could escape from that, not that he really wanted to anyway. It was nice having someone to watch your back from time to time.

Now, back to his griping, “Ugghh! We’ve been on this stupid trail for hours! How have we not found a town yet?” The ground squelched beneath bootfalls, still puddled with rainfall from the night before and the muggy air did little to raise his spirits. It left his hair frizzed and hands sticky with moisture no matter how many times he wiped his palms on his tunic. Over the years, a lot of things had made their way onto the Things That Really Annoy the Hell Out of Legend list: humid weather made the top 20. They might as well be swimming at that point, really.

“Oh, chill out Legend. A little humidity never killed anyone,” The captain was quick to quip back, but there was no mistaking the underlying agitation in the ways Warriors fidgeted with his cape and gloves. “Your hair will be fine.” Legend snapped his hand away from his head, leaving tousled locks tangled in order to prove a point.

The vet smirked, arms crossed across his chest, “Projecting your worries onto me won’t make ‘em go away Miss Prissy Pants.” He had the pleasure of witnessing the older hero whirl around indignantly, mouth open in preparation to fire another shot.

“Enough from both of you.” Great, so it wasn’t just him growing more irritated with the humidity. Time shot the pair a warning glance, signaling there was to be no fun or joy had on their trek. Whatever, he still claimed the victory in stride, a smug grin blooming once the eldest turned away. With everyone being so tense — frankly more agitated than Legend was on a mediocre day — their impromptu hike lapsed into an awkward silence. The low rumble of storms rolling on the horizon and the abundance of cricket chatter was the best he was going to get as a distraction. So yeah. The quest was going great.

“Whose Hyrule do you think we’re in?” Legend’s ears pricked to attention, mumbled conversations behind him (usually gone ignored) peeking his interest. The two shortest — and if he had to guess, youngest — of the Chain trailed in the back, Epona clopping at their side. Wind’s hair puffed out more than usual, lower pant legs caked in mud and what Legend hoped was very pigmented clay. The kid seemed perfectly content in the weather, the son of a dodongo. Four kept running a hand through tangled locks, cringing at the way his fingers harshly caught on the knots.

“Traveler’s. Too barren to be anywhere else,” yet despite the gross weather, the smithy always held that level headedness to him. If Legend were to admit it — and he himself knew he wouldn’t — he was a bit jealous. The hero could probably watch someone keel over dead and it wouldn’t outwardly affect him. Or maybe Four was just better at compartmentalizing things for later. Either way, the kid knew how to hold himself together.

“Didn’t he say the air was toxic or something?” Legend didn’t even need to look to know the expression Wind was wearing. Left brow raised, eyes squinted slightly, pouty frown tugging his lips downward, and skeptical glint in his eye. A kid far too expressive and open for the uncaring world he was thrown into, a sinking familiarity always followed that thought. He’d been like that too when he first started, after all. Just some bright eyed kid who got thrown in the midst of something bigger than himself, paying the price for an evil he had not committed.

“No, Sailor. That was the water.” It was around then that the veteran slowed his pace slightly to walk next to Wind, expression light and curious. He had no input yet, but the message was clear: I want to be included in the conversation. It wasn’t often that Legend sought out a connection like that, letting it come to him rather. No matter how strange it felt to initiate, the others clearly didn’t mind it. He may be prickly, but he could be good company in his humble opinion.

“What?!” The two other heroes grimaced at Wind’s sudden volume, Legend skillfully suppressing a grin when a hand slapped over the kid’s mouth. “Oops. I mean… What?! Poison water??”

“No, toxic water. If it was just poison, it wouldn’t hurt you unless you drank it.”

Legend cocked a brow, deciding, “Same difference,” was a good contribution to the conversation.

Four scowled, lower lip sticking out just a tad too far. If he looked any more upset, the veteran would think he’s pouting. “No, it’s not. The difference in meaning is crucial when relaying dangerous informa-”

“How are you supposed to go sailing on that? At least back at home it’s just poison water.” Wind stared up at the pair innocently, eyes wide with questions crackling in his ocean hued gaze. Neither decided to question what the second half was supposed to mean, already having contemplated the logistics of a “great flood” before. Poison water wasn’t that far fetched when it came to the sailor’s Hyrule.

Legend snorted, “You aren’t, dimwit.”

“With a raft?” The new voice startled the trio, all three heads whipping to gawk at Hyrule. If he thought the sailor was sneaky, leave it to their traveler to catch them with their pants down (another reason he never wore pants. Never have them on, and you never get caught with them down). “…What?”

“You’ve actually sailed??”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it sailing. More just floating around on the lake until I can get to where I need to go.” Legend narrowed his eyes, gauging how Hyrule was affected by the weather while the other three chatted. He, like the sailor, seemed to have no qualms with how astoundingly horrendous it was. It irked him more than it probably should have. In the veteran’s time, it never got this nasty unless he was close to a swamp. The fact things got so fucked after he passed… It wasn’t his fault, that was for damn sure. Not very much you can do about darkness overtaking the land when you’re dead.

“It’s gonna storm soon,” the subject change ripped him from his thoughts, eyes landing on Wind. The kid was looking off at the darkening horizon, watching the clouds churn into a tempest that hopefully they would never have to brave. “I’d say in ‘round 5 flips of a sandglass.”

The group blinked owlishly, Four being the first one to put things together.

“…So 2 and a half hours?”

“Yup, sounds just about right.”

“You know, you can talk like a normal person, right?”

Wind cracked a grin, “Where I come from, that is how normal people talk.”

Legend let the conversation fade into the background, eyeing the stormy horizon just as the sailor had. With how their journey was going so far, a storm was the last thing they needed. Sure, it’d probably clear away the sticky air, but running around in the rain wasn’t something he really wanted to do at the moment. His boots were muddy enough as it was. Just as he thought to mention Wind’s storm theory, there was a buzz in the air. Magic. It was familiar — a far away familiar, but familiar nonetheless.

He stopped walking for a moment, violet eyes narrowing at the muggy surroundings. The treeline was silent, the rolling fields of dying yellow crops whipped violently in the breeze, the sky rumbled, but there was no sign of a source. The veteran’s brows furrowed further, face screwing up in suspicion that something was amiss. He knew that feeling, and he knew that he did. Something that reminded him of home in the most warped way possible, feeling almost wrong yet right all at the same time. It was confusing, eluding his conscious efforts to pinpoint just where he had felt that before.

Footsteps died out, Legend having yet to notice the rest of the Chain slowing to a stop. The burning gazes of 8 other pairs of eyes falling on one person should have alerted him, but being so caught up in that feeling… Where had he felt it before? Goddesses it was on the tip of his damn tongue. Think Legend…

A firm hand grasped his shoulder, sending a jolt through the veteran hero who instinctively reached for his sword. “Hey! Hey, easy there partner!” Legend blinked, eyes shooting up to stare down an admittedly alarmed Twilight. “You alright there? Hear a monster?” Looking past the furry blockade, everyone else was on high alert. It wasn’t like the vet to freeze up like that, not without warning.

“No. No monster from what I can tell. I’m fine I just…” His eyes landed on Wild, with his bow pulled taught and poised at the ready for an ambush, “remembered something, is all.” Technically, it was a half truth. He recognized something, yet struggled to remember where he recognized it from and what exactly it even was. It was an adequate enough answer, as the rancher backed off with a nod. Silence returned to their group, but Legend could hardly care less about that now. His mind was elsewhere. It was going to bother him for the rest of the day if he couldn’t figure out where-

A blood curdling yowl — seriously, a yowl — nearly blew out his eardrums as a particularly ugly moblin burst from the treeline with 3 more in tow.

“Why’s it making that face at me?!” Metal screeched as it clashed against steel, but there was no mistaking Four’s perturbed cry through the fray.

“Sorry about that,” came the sailor’s response, “It’s one of mine! They make some really stupid faces!” Legend had to duck and roll out of the way of an oversized shield nearly wacking into him. Two were focused on one, three on another, Time facing one alone, leaving the last to Sky, Wild, and himself.

“This one’s mine,” the Skyloftian announced to the group. “I’ll distract it so you two can get in a few backstrikes.” He hopped away, slashing for the brute’s shield while Legend crept up from the side. Drawing his tempered sword, dark blood soon seeped from the moblin’s back with no more than a few swipes and a couple arrow shots. The monster tried to turn, only to get sliced by Sky’s blade, regaining its attention. Lucky for them these things were stupider than dirt, not even able to take the defensive right. With a group of nine seasoned heroes, now more used to fighting together, it took less than 10 minutes to clear out the lot of them. With no further signs of another attack, they were free to check for injuries.

Hyrule got nicked in the side, nothing he couldn’t fix himself, Legend was sure. Twilight seemed to have taken an impromptu trip to the tailors with the new scratch marks in his undertunic. Warriors’ nose was bleeding, but other than that and a few scrapes he was fine. Everyone else got off with nothing more than a scratch or a bruise here or there. Good. That meant the veteran wouldn’t need to be dishing out any potions any time soon.

“Are we all accounted for?” Everyone turned their attention to Time, standing with a hand on his hip and the other on the hilt of his sword. He continued once he got confirmation, “If they attacked now, it probably means there’s more at a camp nearby. We’ll split up and look for it: Wind in one group and Wild in another. If one of us finds it we’ll alert the other via your.. Rock things.” The sailor beamed, ushering everyone to line up because it “was his turn to be team captain,” whatever that meant.

Ultimately, he was placed in Wind’s group with Warriors, and Time. They had more than enough manpower with the two war veterans, the sailor, and the actual vet. Wild had a map, and Wind was their best navigator, so getting back up would be easy as pie… if that pie was on fire with raw crust and half cooked filling. Yeah, splitting up in unfamiliar woods is never a good idea.

Especially when you’re trying to fight off an archer ambush and your navigator is being shot at.

“I’m gonna need a second- FUCK!!” An arrow shaft stuck haphazardly in the sailor’s arm, jostling with every move he made. “Shit! Oh, that’s gonna hurt-”

“Focus! Make sure Wild can find us. We’ll cover you!” Warriors, on cue, blocked another volley with Wind’s dropped mirror shield. If it weren’t such a high stress situation, Legend could’ve sworn the captain would say something stupid like “return to sender” or “eat shaft.” The thought made him smirk, distracting him long enough that their attackers managed to graze his leg.

“Oh, for the love of Zephos!” The vet didn’t have time to turn around and check on their youngest, reflecting back another volley himself in hopes to hit something. A flash of grey caught his eye, loud snarling following a blur of fur and monster parts. Back up had finally arrived.

“Took long enough!”

“Hey, blame Wind! Would’ve been here faster if he held onto his rock!” Long, unruly hair streamed behind a dirt covered, scared face. With a few THUNKS a handful of their assailants went down, yellow energy crackling out of the disintegrating bodies.

“You try and hold a stupid rock while being shot at!” The sailor grabbed Legend’s arm and yanked him to the side just in time for an arrow to narrowly miss piercing his nose, much to the veteran’s dismay. “I had that-”

“Sure you did!” Wind ducked out of the way of a sword slash, coming face to face with more moblins. “Think we found that monster camp yet?”

Legend really didn’t know how the kid could keep up the quips while avoiding getting smacked in the head, pulling his blade back out for round 2. Digging in his bag, he fished out a hookshot for some spontaneous strategizing. Latching it into a tree somewhere off in the fray, he took the opportunity to zip around and stun anything and everything. Battle was serious, sure, but having a little fun with it when you’re winning couldn’t hurt.

When the dust settled, all that was left was a single black lizalfos.

The black lizalfos.

Who made a break for it the second it realized it was outnumbered, like the damn coward it was.

Chasing did little for the group, as their path ended in a clearing with a large portal swirling before them. He caught Time making a mental check of everyone before pairing them up to go through: Twilight and Wild, Sky and Four, Hyrule and himself with Wind tagging along, leaving Time and Warriors to follow up at the back.

“Stick close together. So far these portals have spat us out in the same place, but we never know when that will change.”

“I just hope the weather is nicer wherever we end up,” Legend heard Warriors mutter, most likely jinxing the group with his stupid wishing. If the weather was anything but pleasant he was going to throttle the captain.

“Best get goin’. The storm be upon us soon,” Wind ever so gently (read: not at all gently) pushed Wild toward the swirling vortex. Everytime Legend saw one of the portals, he was reminded how little the light mattered as it was eaten away by the vast darkness before them. In some strange, twisted way, he found solace in that. If there were to be one constant, he’d rather it be the comfort of darkness than a blinding light… but maybe he was biased. After all, few of the best people came from the Darkness. A flash of purple rabbit ears and sharp red eyes pulled at his lips, threatening to spill his happy memories for all to see. But no, he grabbed at those images, shoving them back into their respective places and neatly filing them away in the crevices of his mind. Those were his and his alone to keep, for none to see and not to be shared. Not yet, at least. Not after what had been said. Not until apologies were made. Until then, the fleeting feeling of fond annoyance and steely, yet soft gazes hurt too much to remember.

“Hey, earth to Ledge! We’re about to go through!” Right, the portal. They were on a completely different quest. Now was not the time to be taking a trip down memory lane. With a deep breath, hands firmly held by the traveler and the sailor, he stepped into the void churning before him.

[across-violet-skies]

Febuwhump day 1: helpless

Whumpee: Legend

Whump Rating: 5/10

TWs: panic attacks, being forced to face trauma

The second he stepped through the portal, Legend knew he was in trouble.

He had been dropped in Wind’s world, on an island, thankfully, and not the sea. Unfortunately for him, the island wasn’t exactly capable of housing their group of nine. It was just a long strip of rock, interrupted by the occasional pillar. There wasn’t any plant life in sight. There was no way they could stay here.

As the rest of their group passed through the portal behind him, Legend immediately took on the defensive. He scowled, crossing his arms and wrinkling his nose while he waited for everyone else to come to the same conclusion he had.

Wind’s grin was bright as he looked around. “My world!” His smile dimmed only slightly as he hummed to himself. “We’ll have to get off this island, though… I’ll call Tetra!”

The sailor already had his strange rock necklace out by the time Legend spoke up. “I’m not getting on a boat,” he insisted, turning his nose up.

“...What?” Wind shook his head, frowning. “We can’t stay here, we have to sail!”

Time held a hand out, sighing. “Sailor, contact Tetra.”

Wind saluted playfully, nodding once. “Aye-aye!”

“Veteran.” Time turned toward him slowly, unamused. “When the boat gets here, we’re getting on and sailing to a better island. This rock isn’t big enough for all of us.”

Legend scowled, gritting his teeth. “Like hell it isn’t!” (It wasn’t). “We can stay here just fine!” (They couldn’t).

The Old Man pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling. “We’re leaving as soon as we can. I don’t want to argue about this.”

“Tetra’s on her way!” Wind announced excitedly. “And there’s nothing to worry about! Tetra’s boat is one of the best around; it’s perfectly safe!” The sailor grinned, elbowing Legend.

The Vet stepped back, almost growling at this point. “I am not worried,” he hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I just don’t think we have to leave this island. It’s a waste of our time.”

“Staying here is a waste of time!” Wind argued, frowning. “And I want to see Aryll! It’s not often we get to be here, and we always go to see Ravio when we’re in your world!” He shoved a finger into Legend’s chest, forcefully enough to make the Veteran stumble.

“Wind, enough!” Warriors stepped in, scolding the younger hero. He glanced between Wind and Legend, brows furrowed. “What’s the problem?”

“Legend’s refusing to get on Tetra’s boat!”

The Veteran bared his teeth, nose scrunching with the movement. “I do not partake in sailing or boating of any kind,” he reminded, practically seething. “And I absolutely will not get on a boat!”

Legend kept feeding his fire, hoping that his explosive anger would keep everyone from seeing the real reason he refused to sail.

Fear.

Ever since Koholint, Legend had been unable to even be near the ocean, let alone sail on it. He had managed to work through some of it with time (and thank Hylia for that, because it was hard to avoid oceans during this adventure), but boats were still very much out of the question for him.

The Captain sighed, shaking his head. “So what, then, are you just going to stay here and starve to death while the rest of us have Grandma’s soup for dinner?”

Wind hit Warriors in the stomach, huffing. “She’s my grandma, not yours!”

Legend scowled, fully prepared to go head-to-head with the Captain. There was no way in hell he was getting on a boat. Absolutely no way.

“Hey!” Wind’s shout caught the attention of the rest of the group, all eight of them looking at the sailor with confusion. “Tetra!” He pointed out to sea, where, if Legend squinted, he could indeed see the outline of a ship. His heart rate picked up at the sight of the large, hulking pirate ship, painfully aware that his time was running out.

Legend didn’t often feel helpless, but in this moment it was difficult to feel otherwise. The fast-approaching ship felt like a time bomb, and his heart was the ticker.

The Captain crossed his arms, nodding in approval. “She got here quick,” he commented, humming.

“She must’ve been nearby,” Wind mused, shrugging. “But it doesn’t matter. We’ve got a ship!”

Time rounded up all the stragglers (Hyrule and Wild, mostly), bringing them all closer together. “Does everyone have their stuff?”

Despite the chorus of affirmatives brushing past Legend’s ears, he didn’t hear any of it. He heard the blood rushing in his ears like waves upon a sandy shore, the distant tune sung by a voice too good to be true. It all materialized before his eyes– Legend saw the rough seas in the thick of a thunderstorm, rolling and tossing as he struggled to cling to his tiny raft. His sail blustered in the horrid winds, and as he looked to the sky, he gasped, bracing himself for impact-

“-Legend!” Hyrule’s voice was the one to drag him out of it, small, calloused hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him roughly.

The Veteran gasped, neck and shoulders tensing as he quickly pushed Hyrule away, eyes wide. The traveler looked hurt for a brief second before the worry came back. As Legend glanced around, he realized they were all looking at him with varying degrees of concern and confusion.

“Breathe,” Twilight reminded, frowning.

Legend frowned. Breathe? He was breathing! He was- oh, he wasn’t breathing.

He wasn’t breathing.

Mind still overrun with panic, Legend desperately scratched at his chest with the notion that it would help him to breathe. He fell to his knees, gasping as he scraped at his throat. His lungs finally gave in, but each breath was short and almost wheezy, desperation and panic fully in control now.

It was Hyrule who snapped him out of it– for the second time now. The traveler kneeled beside him, wrapping Legend in a loose hug. “Breathe, just breathe. You’re okay, everything’s okay. Nothing bad is gonna happen, I promise,” he whispered, holding the Veteran close. “We’re all here with you. It’s gonna be okay.”

Legend choked out a breath that sounded almost like a sob, resting his forehead against Hyrule’s shoulder with a shudder. His hands dropped to his lap, trembling from the ferocity of his fear. Hyrule kept whispering words of comfort to the Vet until his breathing was calmer and steady, albeit a little shaky. The traveler was the only one who knew anything about Legend’s adventure on Koholint, and even he wasn’t filled in on most of the details. What Hyrule did know, however, was that Legend had been sailing when the whole thing started, and it was this adventure that made the Veteran the most bitter.

“Um…” Wind looked uneasy, glancing between the pair on the ground and the fast-approaching ship. “Tetra’s almost here, should we…”

“It’s okay,” Hyrule answered quickly, interrupting. He leaned in closer to Legend so that his words would only be audible to the Vet. “We have to get on the ship.” Legend shook his head. “We have to. But Wind said it wouldn’t be far, and once we get to Outset we don’t have to go anywhere else. Even if the others decide to sail somewhere else, you and I can stay on land. Is that okay?”

Legend gripped Hyrule’s tunic, grabbing fistfuls of the fabric. “I don’t want to get on a boat.”

“I know,” the traveler murmured. “But we have to. They’re right; we can’t stay here.”

“...Don’t make me get on a boat,” Legend whispered, so quiet even Hyrule barely heard him. “Please don’t make me.”

Hyrule frowned, sighing. “It’ll be okay. I’m sure we could wait in the bottom of the ship if that would be better,” he offered. “But we really do have to go. I’d be happy to stay with you the whole time, and it doesn’t look like there’ll be any storms.”

Legend tensed at the mention of storms, shuddering. He looked up at Hyrule miserably, searching for any sign of a lie in the traveler’s soft brown eyes. He found none, so despite the fear eagerly gnawing through his heart, he agreed. “...Okay.”

Hyrule lit up, eyes wide. “Really?” He smiled, squeezing Legend’s upper arm as he stood up. “Thank you.”

Ignoring the stares from the others, Legend allowed Hyrule to help him up, holding on to the traveler’s hand for comfort. Despite the way his heart hammered in his chest at the sight of the large ship, Legend held strong, facing his fears head-on. He was their Veteran, for Hylia’s sake– he could handle sailing. He wasn’t alone this time– he had his predecessor for support as well as the rest of his brothers. And this was a real ship– it would take a lot more than a storm to take it down.

A lightning strike would probably do the trick, though.

It was different. It was fine. He wouldn’t get caught in a storm and locked away in a dream this time. Probably.

The ship slowed to a stop, a ladder tossed out to them. Wind climbed up first, then Wild followed, and soon enough everyone was on the ship except for Hyrule and Legend.

The traveler smiled encouragingly, nodding. With a deep breath, Legend released Hyrule’s hand, climbing the rungs of the ladder with ease. He reached the top, pausing as he looked down. Hyrule was right below him, still smiling.

Legend took another breath, exhaling slowly. He could do this.

He hoisted himself up onto the ship, immediately gripping onto the side as the waves swayed them gently. He closed his eyes, startled when a gentle hand rested on his shoulder.

Hyrule beamed at him, bright and sunny despite the overcast sky. He held out a hand. “Wanna go sit in the downstairs of the ship? Tetra said ‘Niko’ will watch out for us, whoever that is.”

Legend sighed, accepting the traveler’s hand with a ghost of a smile. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

–> support me on ao3!

[twistedwonderlandobsession]

TWST Character Ranked Based off Whether I Think I Could Live With them

Pt: 1

Note:I am listing this from Worst to Best and giving descriptions as to why

Vil:

This man falls into the hell no category. Not because I know he will be running his blender at 5 am, or even because I would be worried about a stalker fan or the media or some shit. No no no, I would not tolerate him being my room mates for three reasons.

1. He would be yelling at me to go to bed at 10pm

2.He would be Horrified at my dark circles and overall lack or self care and I can already hear his nagging

3.Me and Vil are very particular and control freak people so the way we decorate may clash and I would not be appreciative of his bland ass diet food.

Kamil:

I love this boy I adore him, but I would not be able to handle him. As much as he would be useful financially he would also be a huge responsibility and I am not willing to handle him like Jamil dose purely because I don't want to put him and his family out of a job.

Not to mention he is way to friendly and as much as I would love to have him tell thr waiter I want fries I could also see him being the roommate that brings Home a bunch of friends and drags me out of my hole so no thx bby.

Cater◆:

No, I don't need him constantly filming my home. I think he is respectful enough to ask if he could film me or post stuff about me but it's a no for me. Not to mention I think his sister's kinda fucked him up and I don't think he would be completely comfortable with a female roommate because of that.

Ace♥︎:

I would be on the less tolerable side with him, like he is on the maybe train, cause like I feel like we could somewhat vibe, but I also feel like he would not stop commenting and making sarcastic remarks about my appearance and nerdyness, I would definitely punch him in the face at some point.

Not to mention this man would not do his chores and he is kinda broke so he would barely pay rent

Epel:

Yet another maybe baby, I mean I dig the country shit, and the fact he is 5"1 and can kick anyone's ass, but it depends on where he is at mentally. I have personal experience with being raised in a extremely traditional and borderline sexist household with strong beliefs that are somewhat similar to what he was raised with so I get how hard it is to snap out of that mentality.

But my home is a safe space and there is no way in hell I'm letting him nring his gender norms in my house since that's a hole can of toxicity I can not deal with on a day to day basis.

TLDR: Yes to post Chapter 5 Firm no to Pre Chapter 5

Sebek:

Eh- I mean like maybe??? I think he would be good with his chores and would definitely be useful if a incident happened with my family, and I can deal with his screaming since i listenin to rock and shit on full volume anyways and have a tallent for tuning people out.

But then again I feel like he would be screaming in my ear every 5 minutes out of absolute horror about what I read and watch or my habits or the food. Like

HUMAN! What is this.....Media?

Uh- it's a murder podcast

HOW DARE YOU BRING THIS INTO THE HOME OF THE FUTURE NIGHT OF THE PRINCE OF BRIAR VALLEY-

Ortho:

I would tolerate him as a roommate, I wouldn't be too stoked about living with him, but he gives good video game and movie recommendations. I think it would be pretty enjoyable to watch a movie or play a video game with him.

I think he could handle my rants pretty well. I also feel like he is decent with chores and wouldn't be bothered by my appearance or humor since it's similar to his brothers.

Lilia:

Ah yes! Our goth emo bat war veteran.... I would.....mmmmmmmm...it's a cross between toleration and acceptance. I would definitely enjoying his music 10/10 and I feel like we could definitely vibe. He definitely would not be bothered with how late I stay up and I could definitely see us having a 3am conversation over Down With the Sickness by Disturbed in the background while I bake cupcakes.

He would be banned from my kitchen though, it's permanent. No takebacksies, I will litterally make Azul write up the contract.

Jade:

Yet another yes but no, yes because he seems tolerable and that he wouldn't comment on my sitting in dark corners or spinning in a desk chair on the middle of the room at 2Am if I let him just have his rocks and mushrooms.

But he also kinda gives me the eerie vibes like If I piss him of or summ he won't complain but I would definitely be paranoid of stange mushrooms in my dinner.

[amongthe141]

The Giver - Chapter 1

By: @amongthe141

Fandom: Call of Duty Video Game

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Y/N female reader, John Price, Frank Woods, more 141 to follow

Tags: Slow burn, Captain John Price x fem!reader, first ever shared writing...eek, sorry for grammar or lack of edits I tried, starts 2019 remake universe, yes I made Frank Woods look like a Santa and not sorry, w

Summary: Y/N is introduced to Captain John Price via Frank Woods and Y/N's life is about to become...more complicated.

Words: 1586

The knock on the door should have been promptly replied back with a bark somewhere to the tune of "...the hell you want" from the eighty some old senior man purposely sitting within the walls of his room in isolation.  Whether it was for peace or reliving of fading memories but in the case of Retired Master Sergeant Frank Woods it was more likely choosing to avoid the realization that he was old when the other residents and staff constantly make one such has himself remember it on the daily.  There were those who Woods allowed acceptance to enter freely…the evolution of his bark differs greatly from the first day he resided to now…the bark wasn’t so much as a bite if it was one of the favored few, which Y/N could be counted as one of them, if not the top tier of them.  It wasn’t an easy achievement but one with a bit of patience and a bit of stubbornness Y/N was able to conquer.  It also helped that Y/N and Woods were the troublemakers under this roof when they set their minds to it.  This is why the absence of this familiar greeting put her on edge and her breathing hitched in concern.  

The next group of knocks were louder, though knocking loud was always a must for any resident under this household because their hearing is shit if they were normal  but they weren't. These men who lived here at this privatized retirement home had extra damage to their ears from enemy explosions, recanting to  Y/N's ears in downtime storytelling or reasoning as to why their screams would wake her up at night from constant night terrors. So this last extra loud knock on Frank Woods door should have had him absolutely hysterical at her even to somewhere deep down finding superpowers to strengthen his bad knees to walk out of his bound chair to rock across his room to open the door to relay such hysterics. But as the seconds ticked and still no reply a moment of fear hit her hard. Many veterans had passed in their sleep here, death was an all too familiar experience since Y/N started five years ago, but she wasn't ready for the stubborn old man that lived to prove what a grumpy old man should be, nor one who relished in the delight of being called an asshole. She would never admit it but he was her favorite person in the converted old Victorian house they called home and Y/N wasn't ready to say an early goodbye or any goodbyes at all. 

Pushing through her fear, the dark stained door opened with an eerie scream from its hinges as the room came to life as the soft glows from the afternoon sun seeped through the countless windows. The same dark stain of the door flowed adjacent to the corners where ceiling and walls and floors  met in this cream colored room that belonged to Woods. Military flags stretched on the walls here and there  as if it was some piece of classic art.  Photos littered in frames or lay about every surface of Frank Wood’s room where there were hardly any surfaces left,  unlike the floor which he needed ample space for his wheelchair to get by. The faces that stared at her back, some she knew of from when Frank allowed himself to tell her tid bits from his past, others were of the younger Frank, a more dangerous yet addictive Woods who didn't give five fucks and would do as he pleased. 

Y/N could see herself getting in trouble with a younger Frank, she already did with the senior version ever since he first stepped within these hallowed halls (yes, he was a younger old man then… too proud to submit as the new guy lifebound eventually for his wheelchair) into the retirement house with other old geezers (his words at the beginning, not Y/Ns, never hers). 

Y/N had been in this room a million times, could tell you where everything was and should be, but in the first moments of entering  her fear made it all seem like a stranger's room instead as her eyes reluctantly stared at the empty but made up bed. One area cleared but…, what if he fell off the bed and was behind it? A sigh from Y/N released as again another spot cleared after as she approached closer to the bed to see to the other side. Y/N shifted the large ice bucket in her grasp as carrying the terror of finding him dead in the room subsided. Before asking "but where the hell was he" a coughing fit of laughter snuck in like a cool breeze from the screened door and she allowed herself to smile a silly smile as she shook her head, the bottles in the bucket clinking against each other as if rejoiced the location was given away to where a very live and fiery Woods would be. Y/N quickly crossed across the room and  pushed through  the reluctant screaming screen door that led out to the covered patio with her free hip,  she couldn't help but  tilt her head as she stared at Woods and his unexpected guest.

"Y/N!" Frank mustered to say when he was able to speak instead of cackle (it's what Y/N used to describe the coughing fits most life smokers end up getting) "Where the hell have you been?"

"Working very hard apparently being your bar wench" she said playfully as she went about carefully placing the basket of chilled beer on the table between Woods and his guest, who stood up as a bulky tower over the two of them to help her set it down very gentlemanly…probably a beer enthusiast as Woods where no drop of spilt beer should fall! He waited for Y/N to lean against the arm of the only free chair before sitting back down "Well this is certainly unexpected".

It wasn't till he spoke did she actually make eye contact with this man. Maybe it was the British accent that gave it clearly away that he wasn't a relation to Woods (as if any did visit if there were any) , perhaps the mutton chops of a beard adorning his face peppered with graying and light patches of hair teasing his age, or perhaps the beanie that bound his hair underneath…Y/N stopped processing every little detail of the man in her brain to jumpstart the point that his clear ocean blue eyes had her hooked, lined, and smitten and very much addicted instantly. Woods leaned over and passed him a cold one before jabbing one at Y/N’s closest though before taking his own, breaking her concentration on purpose but more likely for the urgency to enjoy a cold one.  

Y/N smiled before twisting the cap off as Woods unceremoniously hit the cap off the side of the wheelchair’s many metal perks, deeping the dent. "What can I say, privatized retirement houses do come with perks" Woods said before downing half the bottle and then nonchalantly introducing "Y/N meet Captain John Price". 

Y/N was greeted with a "Pleasure" and courteous nod with a non-mistaken smirk surrounded by his beard before he continued "When you said Woods you were in a private home, let alone a Veteran one, I indeed was not expecting this to be so…" "Homely". "Exactly".

"Thank you, when my Aunt inherited this place she didn't want it to be a place someone couldn't call home. Most other retirement homes are too hospital-like and…" "Cold". Y/N couldn't help but smile wide at them completing each other’s thoughts, "Exactly. Most have to come to retirement homes involuntarily, if bringing a bucket of cold beer helps then that's what we do." Y/N explained after more small inquiries came from Price that there were 6 other residents at the house. The staff was there 24/7 by shifts or by personal employment by the resident but Y/N was the only other person who resided there full time with her Aunt. "Life functions as a normal everyday household besides the times I get to boss this guy around" Wood’s playful eye roll earns him laugh before Y/N continues. "We make sure everyone makes their appointments, gets their meds, therapy, etc."

"Reliable and recommendable" Price said almost in a prideful tone before Woods snorted "More like lucky. VA benefits and regulations nowadays are death sentences to places like this. You won't be able to find this when you're my age for military men like us, for what we do!" Those words pulled every scar and blemish on Price to Y/Ns eyesight immediately. She's seen them hundred times over on the Veterans who have come and gone. The war battle scars they took home and relive most nights. "I better enjoy it then when I can aye?" A known silence is shared between the men as Woods nods in answer. 

"Well I better go check on things and leave you two at it. Anything needed before I go?" "No, not at this time". "Well if you do, Woods will make sure we know" and she did the same thing she's done a hundred times over with her favorite grumpy old man, no matter the state he was in, it always calmed and reassured him, with that gentle and soft squeeze of her hand on his shoulder incase it was ever the last time to do it. Y/N just didn't know how soon that time was nearing. 

[hestzhyen]

Leap of (Lack of) Faith

There's some discourse about Hakuri's suicide attempt in chapter 24 going around on Twitter that got me thinking. Well, actually, I just want to share my own pointless take. Yeah, I genuinely want to be perceived for once. But I hate trying to communicate in 240-character snippets on that hellsite, so I'll post here to rot in obscurity where I'm most comfortable.

Basically, there was a post in the Kagurabachi Twitter community that requested to talk about the abuse flashback-jump sequence. And yeah, uh, I'm kind of surprised at how little it gets brought up too. To quote myself:

Please don't ask me why I have three different usernames- there's no satisfying answer.

It's been a while since chapter 24 happened, so let's recap the lead up to this important moment. We first see Hakuri in Ch. 19 with his drink spilling out of his mouth, putting his inner monologue about "hav[ing] to grit your teeth and push through" to the lie. The very first shot of him, the very first food metaphor we see with him, is Hakuri being unable to cope. We don't know why he lost his his family, but he's clearly alone and not doing well. He's struggling.

Next thing we see is him being coincidentally saved by Chihiro. We get a full page of him narrating his impression of the moment, showing us the contrast between his desire to do some unspecified "job" and his fatalistic frame of mind. Then we learn he's weak as hell even though his heart's in the right place. He saves a little girl and insists on being taken back to the Yakuza's hideout, leading him to get kicked around and beaten up. He's a bloody, scribbly-eyed mess by the time he meets Chihiro for real. And this is exactly how we are supposed to see him until the moment he jumps in chapter 24.

It's so, so easy to overlook the hints towards Hakuri's painful past due to the way he's written. Most of his actions and dialogue are framed in a comedic way to bounce off of Chihiro's stoicism. Hakuri's pessimistic inner monologues when he's being hurt or nearly killed are right at home in this demographic too- wimps start at their lowest to leave lots of room to grow. And Shounen series always have a weak, lonely kid who's inspired to become strong. It's extremely standard stuff. But this moment right here was probably the biggest, most blatant hint that he's got more to his circumstances than the average zero-to-hero character:

That tiny little panel of him casually smearing the blood from his nose while he talks to Chihiro lives rent-free in my head. It's a throwaway motion in the moment, and not really out of place in an ultra-violent series like Kagurabachi. But compare that to how Azami -a professional combat sorcerer and war veteran!- screamed when he realized his hand was sliced in chapter 7, or how Chihiro is often shown wincing and having to adjust to his injuries. These characters definitely feel the hits that land on them. But the most hilariously pathetic character yet acts like the beat-down he received never happened. Nor like he's surrounded by bloody corpses. Hakuri is not only used to violence, he's used to it experiencing it.

Again, this is all framed in a comedic way due to his over-the-top personality and expressions. He's a freakish mess on the floor after taking the hit from Hiyuki, sobs in a silly way over Chihiro's backstory, is called "weak" and "a moron" and "a mess" by other characters, on and on. Hakuri's not written like he's supposed to be taken seriously after the first few pages we see of him.

The only other moments of foreshadowing came in chapter 23 as a set of blink-and-you'll miss panels and the last scene:

Hakuri's clenched, shaking fist when he talks about his "scary" older siblings isn't a huge tell. Neither is the insistence that they'd kill him on sight. We can comfortably assume that he's afraid of the consequences of betraying his powerful family despite being a weakling- that's where most authors would have gone with this scenario. But then why does his big brother Soya look so happy to see him? Was Hakuri over-reacting again when he talked about his family? Something's off here, but it's impossible to say exactly what.

The next chapter starts. Chihiro and Shiba are facing off against the Tou and it's looking tense. Chihiro flashes back to his dad talking about the Shinuchi, the fight's about to begin- but it cuts to Soya being a pretty normal person who misses his little brother.

And then we see this.

Suddenly a whole new and very serious dimension is added to Hakuri's character. He's not a goofy weakling that's going to improve himself with some determination and a training arc: he's a victim of abuse. This is the signal that the Sazanamis are truly fucked up more than we know, setting the stage for the major themes of the Rakuzaichi arc. And it makes re-reading those little bits of foreshadowing so much more painful.

This scene is the "oh shit" equivalent of Chihiro finding Char's severed leg in the car- yeah, the author really went there. And it's not even the last time we'll get a moment like this for Hakuri. The Ice Lady chapter is rightly remembered for it's impact, but Hakuri choosing to commit suicide should be held up alongside it IMO. Again: the author really went there, and not just for the shock value.

This moment should be remembered far more often than it is. It was the pivot from Hakuri being a generic potential sidekick into a complex and fully-realized character. Hakuri found people who could help him. Who treated him kindly. Who inspired him. But he chose death in an instant when his past came back to haunt him. Despite his improved circumstances, he had no hope for the future. He only felt fear and the urge to escape from looming torment.

Looking at what we know up to this chapter alone... how can you not feel for him? This goofy, ridiculous mess of a boy is really truly hurting and probably has been for years. But like many victims, he downplays and doesn't talk about it. He just tries to escape via whatever means he can.

So it burns me up that people are still reducing him to Chihiro's silly sidekick. If this scene was somehow not enough to dispel that notion, consider that Chihiro probably doesn't know that Hakuri had all those tools used on him, much less anything about Ice Lady. He knows that Hakuri was regularly ganged up on and beaten, and probably could infer that Kyoura deliberately looked away. But we haven't seen Hakuri talk about in detail about how "someone set him on the right path", nor mention taking a flying leap, nor share what's in his storehouse. He's still got a hell of a lot of literal and metaphorical pain he keeps inside. In the right circumstances, Hakuri could jump again.

Talk about this scene more often! REMEMBER it more often!

[ohandcounting]

Oblivion Theory / Pile of Snow Theory by WandyDoodles / @wandydoodles

Oblivion Theory link

It's a good read! Go read it! It's way faster than 190 pages looks like because the font is big and plenty of pictures too. Almost like reading a comic book level of difficulty to focus, I like it a lot. My specific thoughts below the read more

I think this is potentially dead on for at least the symbolism that's going on, though it's still probable to me that there is also an "in-universe" angel. I'm also not sure if I agree with the assumption that the red soul we pilot is special beyond it being a human soul either? Like, there's no reason (YET) to believe that a different human couldn't also seal fountains just from their soul being able to float around in dark worlds like ours does. (like the Susie jail escape, Ferris wheel, literally every battle, etc.) Like, they could just be a magician like those dudes who did a big magic barrier in Deltarune.

On the ending thoughts: I was going to add that Sans' could be talking about Flowey, but...No. Flowey hasn't revealed himself to anyone except us in this timeline. How the hell would he know our type if not from something that happens in DR?! I never noticed it before! Flowey does explain other dialog, like "our reports showing timelines jumping around" and what not even if you did Geno first run/on a true reset. It's why I never thought about it before.

The proposal for The Vessel being The Knight seems very, hard to believe at first. I'm still not settled on it myself, but: The Vessel could be mistaken for Kris if they throw on a hood maybe? "There's that creepy Kris going to the library. We're used to our 1 human in town!" With a lot of characters showing a knowledge on what's going to happen (like Jevil) they might just know when to go do things already without raising suspicion. Only appearing when Kris wouldn't, and/or slipping by without people seeing. It's interesting to me that they never bothered addressing that tbh. I wonder if it's just something they couldn't explain well so rather than bringing it up, they're just hoping we explain it ourselves/wait for new chapter dialog to confirm this.

I am 100% sold on the knight not wanting to end the world though, I've been calling it the "Conspiracy Theory Theory" where the Bad Guy™ is not the Bad Guy™ but rather someone trying to make us Stronger so we can help fight The Really Bad Guy™ (like Kill La Kill kind of[the 10th anniversary was recent, so it's just the only example I can think of atm.]) It gets that ridiculous name because I believe MANY characters are in on it, including Kris themselves, Ralsei, The Red Soul, The Knight, Goner Maker Sequence Voices 1 & 2, Mystery Man, Geoff, Gaster, etc. Pretty much everyone who could be except Susie.

The save file analysis is wrong I feel? When Flowey takes over the save file, that is a veteran with literal near-godlike powers who knows how to manipulate saves. He hasn't had control for 9999:99 yet, despite what the timer shows. That info could be missing for Kris because we weren't there when it was made, what we use to see save file information shows what's missing because it literally doesn't know how long Kris has had that save nor where it was made. We get to see the name because we're in their body though. Like we see empty save files, and they're just empty. After a true reset? It's just empty, just like erasing a file in Deltarune. Kris having ANY information means something more than "just to establish you as a separate entity even harder than Undertale." Especially if the cut intro of Susie trying to wake us up is still hinting towards something like a timeloop being canon. (instead of being cut because it's not longer true)

Save file part 2 break in paragraph for easier reading: It might also be because Kris doesn't have the soul they made that save with anymore, if you're a Kris Is Toy Knife Kid Equivalent Truther like me.

It also falls for the trap of thinking what Chara says at the end of genocide is strictly a metanarrative statement, not something Chara believes will be possible. In a game where characters consistently say things that apply both in and out of universe, which I've never liked. Like Flowey after restarting the game after in TPE talking to both: 1.) us in the meta, but believes he is giving his parting words to 2.) Chara IN universe.

But like everything with depth, people are gonna make mistakes. Especially mistakes they don't think are mistakes and are much simpler answers without constant "catches" and clarifications. It's kind of like explaining King Crimson to people, where I'm the only person to do it right. (not a serious statement)

They also point to Mettaton's nebulous "Ratings" when mentioning the amount of monsters in the underground, instead of the echo flower where it's stated there's literally thousands of monsters??? This is something I see people do all the time?

[izumi-fanclub]

A3! Event Story Translation “NEW ERA GARDEN” [Chapter 5]

This time around, we get to see Hiro and Zen's past behavior during the first gen.

Yukio

—Alright, let’s take a break.

Kasumi

Okay.

Syu

Kasumi, you’re really getting the hang of sword fighting.

Kasumi

Ehehe, it’s rare for Syu-san to give me a compliment.

Yuzo

He left me no choice but to train him.

Kasumi

You don’t have to act like you’re a busy guy.

Yuzo

I taught you and you got the nerve to talk like that.

Syu

You must’ve endured Yuzo’s spartan lessons, huh?

Kasumi

Pretty much… I don’t even think he has the heart of a human anymore.

——Wait, don’t tell me you taught the newborn kids this gruesomely!?

Yuzo

Hah~?

Kasumi

Are you seriously trying to fool me by looking the other way…!? I’ll sue you for harassment! I have to write an article…

Yuzo

Oi!! You can’t just make up an article without my consent!

Syu

Must be nice to still have fun with your childhood friend. Meanwhile, on the other hand…

Hiro

What the hell was that just now? That wasn’t even the same as last time!

Zen

I’ve been a blank slate, you’re a veteran actor. You should come up with something on the spot.

Hiro Couldn’t you have given me a heads-up or something!?

Zen

I just forgot to.

Hiro

You’ve always been like this!

Zen

Forgot that too.

Hiro

Not even a sorry!

Reni

The same as usual over here.

Syu

Even back in the first gen this happened a lot too.

Yukio

I’ve missed this…

Hiro

Sigh… I’m gonna go get some fresh air.

Syu

Just like back in those days.

Zen

Haven’t grown at all.

Hiro

And you remember that of all things!!

Zen

Just go already.

Hiro

…

(That’s right, even back then this used to happen too…)

“No one’s gonna keep up at this rate.”

“Autumn Troupe can do this much just fine.”

“I know you’re used to these kinds of hurdles but think of the Summer Troupe!”

Zen said that it was a good thing that the troupes don’t branch out and act together,

It was the first time for both Summer Troupe and Autumn Troupe to work real hard in rehearsals for a mixed performance.

The performance had a lot of fight scenes, but due to the difference in experience between Summer Troupe and Autumn Troupe, and the difference between the way Zen and I did things, we ended up bickering a lot.

“I mean, Zen-san’s movements look better, don’t you think?”

“Try it, if you’re not up to the task, you can always try again.”

“You guys, it’s not that easy——.”

Eventually, the Summer Troupe members sided with Zen, and the blood was rushing to my head.

“——Tch, I need to cool off!”

I said that in denial, as I stormed out of the rehearsal room.

“Damn… the hell is up with those guys…”

“What, another fight with Zen?” “A shock to no one~.”

I guess it was obvious on my face that even the other troupe members that were passing by called me out on it one after another with a knowing look on their faces.

I felt awkward, so I looked for a place in the dorms where I could be alone.

“Here…? The warehouse? Alright, I guess…”

The warehouse wasn’t populated and it was nice, so I went in thinking of cooling my head off.

And it did, the quietness calmed me down just as I wanted it to.

No matter how pent-up I was, the only solution was to go back to the rehearsals.

In the end, I had no choice but to bicker again in the rehearsal room.

With that in mind, I tried to go back to practice… that was the plan until the door wouldn’t open.

“Huh? What the hell?”

It opened earlier, but now it wouldn’t budge.

The door didn't move as if it was merged with the wall, no matter if I pushed or pulled, even though there wasn’t a lock attached.

“Useless… I can’t get out.”

I tried everything, but there was no sign of the door opening.

A piercing regret punctured my chest, wondering what I was even doing.

I had a play I wanted to do right now, and I didn’t have any time to act all weird about it. If I had another chance, I’d do anything to make up for it.

“Forgive me, God of Theater! Please let me out!”

As soon as I got down on my knees and shouted, the door swung open.

“...The hell are you doing.”

Zen held the door open with a dumbfounded look on his face.

With an expression just as flabbergasted, I turned to my heels and acted like it was nothing.

“I came to get you since it was time to eat, didn’t mean to intrude.”

He tried to close the door once more,

In desperation, I slid my body through the gap in the door and stopped it.

“You don’t gotta rush.” “I rushed out cause I’ve been stuck since the door wouldn’t open!” “No reason it wouldn’t.”

I felt like salt was rubbed into my wounds, but it didn’t matter anymore now that I was finally free to go out into the hallway.

“...What’s for lunch?”

“It’s karaage.”

“That’s my favorite! Wait, no way…” “...”

“Ugh, gross…” “It was just a coincidence. Don’t make it weird.”

“I’M making it weird——!?”

We still had a fierce fight at the next rehearsal in the end, but we had a great first day of the mixed performance which was made from repeated clashing.

I was never on the same page with him no matter how hard I tried to.

But it all turned out well in the end.

*Door opens*

Yuzo

You got back pretty quick, surprisingly.

Hiro

I can’t make a habit of just loitering about. I ended up just buying some water.

Besides, the only solution lies in the rehearsal room.

Syu

Guess you’ve matured a little.

Hiro

I don’t usually get upset even during a performance like this in a long while, but I just really can’t get along with Zen.

Yukio

Things like this, it takes you back, doesn’t it?

Hiro

I guess…

Yukio

Your one-track mind when it comes to devoting yourself to a play, your sincere beliefs in your ideals and your determination to protect those ideals are exactly the reasons why I chose you, Hiro, to play Isami Kondo’s role.

So I’m glad you’re still the same as ever.

Hiro I see, so that’s how it is. If that’s the case then I’m fine the way I am.

Zen

Your simple mind hasn’t changed either.

Hiro

Now I feel like a fool if you’re gonna say it.

…Hey, you remember the whole room opening thing?

Zen

The room opening?

Hiro The one I told you where I couldn’t get the door open!

Zen

Ahh… You mean that one dream you had.

Hiro

You still don’t believe me? It really happened!

Zen

Doesn’t really matter.

Hiro

Honestly, why are you like that——!

Yuzo

There’s no really no end to this.

Reni

They really are the same as ever.

Syu

Geez…

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