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cherryblossom-enthusiast · 2 days

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Retribution (The Kidxf!Reader) - Monkey Man

A/N: I said I was writing it and it has been done lol If you haven’t watched this film yet, please do! I indulged and wrote a small fic about it lol (Don't mind the abyssmal pacing of this, I barely edited and added anything) I hope you all enjoy it and can someone please indulge me more by writing more fics about this man!? Dev Patel absolutely killed it! Put him in a rom-com! I tried to write the hijra with as much care as possible. Please let me know if there’s something I can be more educated on in terms of this!

Synopsis: A mysterious man arrives at the temple you call home and makes quite an impression.

Warnings/ Tags: Angst. Fluff. Allusions to sex work. Descriptions of violence and blood. Coarse language. Kissing.

Word Count: 3.2K

Masterlist

The cheers of those around you interrupt the hanging of your laundry.

Peeking through the shoulders and the shadows, you sneak a glance at the subject of commotion, and it doesn’t surprise you.

The way he moves is equal parts graceful and aggressive. His punches are meticulously messy, a choreographed war drum thrumming to the beat of his own heart. This man is far removed from who you remember gazing upon a few days ago. His eyes were lost, sunken, like a child looking for guidance or divine judgement for all that’s led him to this point.

This was not that man.

This man was vengeance personified.

And through him, you felt hope.

You knew nothing about him. Alpha was able to garner all of your help, quietly and quickly instructing to pull the man out of the river. You were there when they cauterized his wounds. His screams were pure agony, making you cringe, and somehow you felt that his pain went deeper than physicality.

He walked like a ghost when he first came, aimlessly walking, like trying to just bump into something that would give him an answer.

Now, it seems he walks with purpose.

He throws his last punch and receives a mighty applause. The crowd recognizes the show’s over for the time being and they disperse as he keeps heaving, staring at the bag like he wants to hit it more. Like he never wants to stop.

You pick up a basket and walk over to him. Whether to strike up a proper conversation or feeling annoyed at the dirtied shirt on the ground you had just washed, you don’t exactly know. But something about him is magnetic, pulling you in, just like the first time you saw him that night, all bloody and bruised.

You nod at his white shirt. “I’ll take that.”

He breaks from his spell and turns to look at you.

His heaving slows, his breaths getting deeper by the second. For what you think is a few minutes, he just stares are you, and you at him, both of you taking each other in. You realize his physique really is something to awe over, but more importantly, that his eyes are far gentler than what you thought possible.

You tilt your head. “The shirt?”

He bends and picks up the white cloth, simply extending it to you as he continues to stare. You gesture for him to drop it into the basket. With an amused scoff, you start to turn away. “I’d appreciate it if you hung the next shirt you tore off on a wall.”

“Your name?”

His voice surprises you. You’ve only heard him speak a few times before. He sounds rough, and scratchy, like he doesn’t use his voice often.

You introduce yourself and after a few moments, he repeats your name back to you. Slowly, quietly, as if he’s scared of offending you in any way. Listening to it fall from his lips is like listening to dripping honey and you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make heat crawl up your neck.

To save face, you again start to walk away from him. “Widen your stance.” You advise, not waiting to hear a reply.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Several days pass until you have another full conversation.

You’re caught up with mundane chores. He’s caught up with punching that bag and doing god knows what else when he’s not at the temple.

Though there was that one time you almost slip and he catches you effortlessly by the waist and it definitely made your stomach flutter.

You smile the first time you depart to wash laundry and see his shirt hanging over a nearby wall.

He’s getting better. His posture looks strong, immovable. Sometimes you think with all that’s happened to him, that he must be invincible. Surely, no one can lose that much blood and still maintain their sanity.

But then you see his movements wain by the end of his exercise and it’s like something powerful overcomes him as he loses all finesse and he punches that rice-filled bag for all its worth with no rhyme or reason. You sense his frustration as he suddenly stops and puts his hand on his hips, breathing erratically.

You approach him cautiously. Pulling out a bottle of water from your laundry basket, you offer it to him. “Consider taking a break?”

He’s slow to take the bottle from you but he does so anyway. After almost draining the whole thing, he splashes the rest of the water over his head. Only as he shakes the droplets off his curly locks does he try to return it to you.

“An actual break.” You reiterate, stuffing the bottle of water back into your basket. “Your drummer needs one too. He might have built up his callouses, but he should eat something.”

The man turns to look where your eyes are directed and though you don’t have a clear view of his face, you can tell from the way that his eyebrows ease that he feels a sense of guilt. The drummer simply raises his palm and stands. “Take some time to clear your head, I’ll be here whenever you have.” He leaves the courtyard until it’s just the two of you left.

The weather is oddly cool today. There’s smoke and a mugginess that’s expected from being close to the heart of the city, but if you were to look around, it’d almost seem like you were transported decades into the past. The temple acts like a sanctuary, shielding you all from the outside world’s noise and it does a good job.

You walk towards a small wooden bench off to the far side and take a seat. You set your basket down and pat the space next to you. “Come,” You beckon “I’d appreciate some company while I fold all of these white shirts I’ve had to add to my load.”’

Something like embarrassment flashes on his face as he follows your command and sits right next to you. His posture is stiff like he wants to make an impression. It’s obvious your newfound companion doesn’t like to talk, or more accurately, isn’t very good at starting small conversation.

“I’m sorry for the bother.”

He has a tone of bashfulness, unable to turn in your direction. Your smile widens as you continue to fold “I didn’t say it was bothersome.” You refute. “In fact, I’d rather say I don’t mind you taking your shirt off.”

You try to make direct eye contact then, but he swallows thickly and doesn’t meet your eyes. It makes you giggle, but you decide to pull back on the joke, not wanting him to take offence or cause him more uneasiness. “Besides, each shirt is a testament to how much work you’ve put into bettering your skills here.”

That gets him to scoff and drop his head in disbelief “I’m still not where I need to be.”

“No,” you reply earnestly “but you will be.”

This earns you another bout of silence.

For a while, you both just enjoy each other’s quiet company. He stares blankly ahead and you give him the time to examine whatever it is he’s battling through in his own thoughts.

Eventually, he sighs and inclines his head towards the sky. “How long have you lived here?”

“Ever since I could remember.” You answer honestly. “Alpha says they opened the door and there I was, miraculously alive, left laying on a dirty blanket.”

“You’ve been here ever since?” He carefully asks.

“I’ve never lived anywhere else if that’s what you’re asking.” You pass an unfolded shirt to him and to your surprise he starts to fold it with no question. Bitter memories start to glaze your view. “And for someone as uneducated as me, there’s only a few jobs out there that I’d be considered for as a woman.”

A knowing silence passes through you both at the statement. Yatana was unforgiving. A real dog-eat-dog society with no time or need for those who couldn’t stomach it or keep up. Truth be told, most of the time you couldn’t. Very often would a prostitute or child be pounding on your doors for help or asylum. Hungry, beaten, thrown away like a speck of dust not worth anyone’s time.

“Doesn’t it make you angry?”

You’re unphased by the question. “Of course it does.”

And you mean it. There are days when you scream at the sky or dunk your head slightly longer underwater to try and get away from it all, try to release it in some way.

Eyes still trained to the sky; he confesses “Because that’s all I feel. Anger and pain, and I can’t-“ he struggles to finish his words. “I can’t-‘

“I know.”

That makes him look back down and finally turn in your direction. He patiently expects you to explain.

You swallow thickly but continue to talk anyway. “To feel helpless, like you can’t do anything no matter how hard you try.” Gritting your teeth, you realize your hands have stopped folding. “But it doesn’t matter, because there are people who need me more strongly than the pain I feel.”

He considers your words thoughtfully and waits for you to speak once more. “Amidst all this chaos, this temple stands. People need me here. Children, mothers, the beautiful hijra who gave me a home, and when they leave this place with the tiniest glimpse of hope on their faces, then I know I’ve done my job. I don’t fight as well as the hijra here, I don’t expect to get much better, but I want them to know that they have refuge with me.”

You pass him an unfolded sari and for the rest of the time you are sitting together, you both fold quietly, basking in the sun and each other’s presence.

He continues to train harder after that. Each step is quick, each punch as sharp as a bullet. When he isn’t training, he’s watching. The news, the protests, the speeches, like he’s reassuring himself, learning the best way to approach.

It’s obvious everyone here, including you is taken with this stranger. Though, you don’t really know if you could even call him that anymore.

It’s like he seeks you out. It doesn’t matter if it’s simply sitting together for dinner or him deliberately waiting for you to walk through the courtyard with your basket under your arm. Both of your eyes are trained on each other with an eager sheen.

Maybe it’s fear or maybe it's an understanding that your pairing would most likely never work out in the end. Either way, whatever it is, it disappoints you because you so badly want to believe he wants you the same way.

The mood becomes slightly flirtatious and you catch sight of a boyish grin here or there, especially when he’s surrounded by the hijra.

But anytime you think he might ask you something, or just when you’re on the cusp of telling him your interest, something stops you in your tracks, holding you back.

A recollection plays in your head of last night.

It’s just him and the drummer again today. You wait near a dark window before you pass so as to not to disturb his concentration.

He has a beat to the way he fights, a brutal rhythm, and it astounds you every time you watch him. If this is how he looks punching a bag, you wonder how he’d look fighting against others. You find the thought oddly attractive, and it makes you flush.

For all his skill in the ring, it seems that’s where all his artistry in footwork stops. Surrounded by laughing and beaming faces, with the sound of softer drumming in the air, everyone takes a turn dancing. No one cared about how sloppy anyone was. You sure weren’t the best dancer amongst the hijras, but this seemed unsubstantial when you were all drunk on each other’s company.

The children present that evening and you form a small circle. You’re swinging your arms around when you notice your mystery man with a smile of his own. It knocks the air out of your lungs. It’s one that gives him crinkles around his eyes and all at once he doesn’t look like a hardened killer, but someone you’d see on a billboard or a magazine cover.

You crook your finger at him, inviting him into your little dance number. He tries to politely decline, his once beaming face turning something sheepish, but Alpha bumps him shoulder to shoulder, and soon the rest of them urge and tease him to dance along. When he gets to the center begrudgingly, it’s already too late for him to back out. Two children start to pull him until he lands directly opposite of you.

The circle of your intertwined hands spins, it twirls here and there, and when you all raise your hands to shrink the circle, you land face-to-face with the most fascinating man you’ve ever seen. It lasts all of five seconds, but everything around you dims as you look at this man’s face illuminated by firelight.

His eyes are his most emotive feature and they always seem to twinkle. Right then, they almost looked like jewels from the way they glossed over.

You pick up on the way those eyes slowly dipped down towards your lips and suddenly you wonder if he’s thinking about the same things you are. If he really does want you the same way you do.

But before you can tumble into that path of thought, cheers and hoots pull you out of the little bubble of enchantment you’d created. You turn to reject the idea of it all, but when you glance back at the man in front of you, your breath catches.

He continues to stare intently at your visage, not minding or caring about the extra attention one bit.

And then a scream erupts in your ears.

Seeing him punch the bag until rice grains stick to his chest reminds you of what he’s capable of.

When he shares a nod with the drummer, you know that he’s finally achieved what he came here at the temple to do.

Dropping your basket, you immediately rush indoors, following the cries of the hijra around you. Lakshmi lays in the center of the temple room floor, blood dripping from them like a fountain. You crouch and gently put their head on your knees as the weeps continue all around you.

They explain that they put a notice on the door, Shakti’s men, and all you can see is an unbridled tint of red starting to form. Your heart is pounding, Lakshmi is struggling to fight for air, and in front of this statue, an indescribable wave of pain crashes into you.

It’s loud, far too loud. With your thoughts, the cries, the blood staining your shirt.

Your one hand on the floor clenches into a fist. You try to remind yourself that you can be better, that there must be something more to all of this than just pray, than to just keep taking what they serve like impotent little ants. The hopelessness starts to creep in, slowly etching itself into your thoughts.

But before it can take hold, you distinguish a face in the shadows. It’s observing as everything around you starts to crumble and in that moment you try to push all that anger onto him as you directly glare into his soul.

And when you see him break open the donation box much later during the humid night, you know you’ve put your faith into the right person.

He tries to leave as silently as he came, but you meet him at the entrance. He holds a crude, dirty children’s bag and you can only assume that’s where he’s keeping the money.

He tries to explain, but you start to approach him which stops his needless rambling. In an act of boldness, you grab his hand in yours and flip it to look clearly at his scars. If he’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Alpha was right.” You agree. “You do have the hands of a warrior”

You enclose his hand between yours, putting it up against your lips. “I wonder how such gentle hands fight with such ferocity.”

He starts to twitch and as you loosen your grip, expecting him to pull back, he instead cups the side of your face and despite his scarred calloused hands, his touch is pure velvet. His thumb brushes the tears you didn’t notice were starting to fall freely down your cheek.

Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.

“Fight for me.” You croak thickly. “Fight for all of us.”

He clenches his jaw. “I promise you.”

You pull him towards you by grasping his neck and your lips meet in the middle. The kiss is like him. Equal parts sweet as it is harsh. His lips were warm and soft, but the urgency in the way you both kissed each other was anything but. You bury your hand into his hair and feel his curls unmake themselves even further. His smell of soap and sage infiltrates your senses.

It was a dizzying feeling. It’s what you felt while you were dancing exploded ten-fold. It was the culmination of tension and grief exploding into something technicolour. As your noses bump against each other, you think you want to draw more of this kindness from this man.

Your breathing quickens and he groans into your mouth. It’s almost like you two are fighting. With each other, against each other, for each other. Exploring this hungry need has only made you more insatiable.

And that becomes particularly dangerous, especially when you know he has a job to do.

Reluctantly you pull back. His eyes stay closed and you press your foreheads together, listening to the crackles of the torches around you. “Your emotions are strong.” You quietly whisper. “But do not let them control you. Let them guide you.”

He blinks his eyes open, full of clarity.

Letting each other go hesitantly, you take one last look at him and he at you. “Come back to me,” you say with all the confidence you can muster.

You can tell you’re both skeptical about your claim, but he nods his head anyway. He walks around you and you don’t turn to look at him leave for fear of wanting to hold him back. You hear the creak of the door, but before he can take another step away from you, you mumble “Give them Hell.”

There’s a slight pause before you start to hear the crunching of the ground beneath him, each step lighter than the last until you can no longer hear him creeping into the night.

Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.

- - - - - -

When you see the money-filled bag hanging on the statue the next day, it’s attached with a note.

His presence overflows through your every pore.

Alpha looks at you with a determined expression on their face, as do the other hijra around them.

It seems they don’t just want repayment, they want a reckoning.

They want retribution.

- - - - - -

A/N: Please let me know what you think by leaving a note, comment, or reblog! Or we can just geek out about Monkey Man lol I definitely won’t be opposed to that lol

#fanfic #x reader #smut #dev patel #fanfiction #fluff #monkey man #monkey man 2024 #monkey man spoilers #the kid #y/n #monkey man fanfiction #monkey man fanfic #the kid x reader #angst #retribution

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pamela-lntt · 4 months

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About the cc Forever Situation:

A brazilian twitter user posted a translation of Forever's statement from today's stream, in case anybody needs it (tw // suicide mention )

https://x.com/twcwya/status/1743374034304213095?s=20

Also included is some context at the end of the thread and links to threads of what is being discussed ( tw // pedophilia )

I'm sorry if i missed any tws, i'm just trying to help

EDIT: reblogged with screenshots of the thread for those who don't have Twitter: https://www.tumblr.com/pamela-lntt/738713715054116864/translated-statement?source=share

#qsmp #qsmp forever #my personal stance is me just stepping away from any cc and q forever content for the time being until there is more clarity #but im incredibly grossed out #but again #just waiting on some more clarity before making a statement which no matter what will probably end with me not touching his content #or his character bc it'll be forever tainted by all of this #EDIT: removed * thanks to an anon's clarification !!#Forever Situation #qsmp discourse #ALSO apologies for not tagging properly i've added the appropriate tags

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cobalt-drawlight · 1 month

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Saying I "lowkey" ship these two is a huge fucking lie

#pokemon #pokeani #ambipom #piplup x ambipom #ambipom x piplup #ash's ambipom #dawn's ambipom #dawn's piplup #pokemon x pokemon #I shipped them for a long time actually ever since before my beginning of making fanart #i used to make screenshot edits for these two but I dont think I have them anymore #i posted on photobucket but it turned into a cash cow for print sales and shit so apparently my account is gone #ambipom ships #<<imma start adding this tag for ANY Ambipom related ship from now on

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adriancatrin · 2 months

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could you please tag things based on the live action atla?

I’ve been tagging everything related to it with both ‘natla’ and ‘atla live action,’ but i’m not going to tag the art i just did with that because it’s not actually related to the live action at all. however, i edited the description leading to the link to clarify that it’s leading to a photo of the live action cast, so people who don’t want to see any of that will know not to click. sorry for not considering that originally!

#i thought long and hard before posting about whether to tag it w natla and decided no because my drawing is not live action related -#- whatsoever beyond the photo inspo #it’s the OG show characters post OG show canon #editing the description where it links to be more clear feels like good middle ground #edit—also added tags to my reblog of the photo w my own link. realized i missed that while drowning in the shame from self promoing lol

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waffletheorist · 3 months

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So, I wrote a sort of prequel/backstory thing for Hero of Simulation, just adding to his character, how he came to be the way he is, different stages of his life and some description. Might rewrite first meeting later as well because I just got so many more ideas for him that I want to add, and because I'm on the creative high right now, so I may as well write as much as possible and improve it.

TW, implied suicide.

Content below the cut.

"The Hero? He's barely a month old!" The woman cried.

"I know it might come as a shock, but that is his destiny. That mark right there on his left hand proves it." The old man replied calmly.

"I don't care what some goddess-forsaken triangle birthmark says, I will not be sending my infant son out on a quest!" The heartbroken mother screamed, cradling her son, who had not made even the slightest sound during this whole ordeal.

"I apologise, but we have no choice in the matter. It is what he was born to do." The wizened sage said gently, not seeming sorry at all.

"No. I refuse to accept this. You sages can go find a new hero. I refuse to let you turn this innocent boy into a weapon for the world. Get a capable adult, not my child."

"But miss-"

"No. I will not accept any argument on this. My son will live his life, far away from all this hero business, you hear me?"

"But only he can-"

"No."

The women stormed out of the castle, infant son in her arms, the mark of the Triforce glowing weakly on his hand.

Days passed, and all the soldiers and knights of the kingdom were sent out to find the fleeing family. There were posters in every town, and the two had a bounty on their heads. There was no place for the desperate duo to hide, even short rests at inns were risky when anyone could be looking to collect their bounty. But they always persisted on their path, the woman determined to keep her child from harm. The mother told the young boy stories every night, of how the Triforce could grant any wish. He had always loved his stories, the same as her.

"Maybe that could keep you safe. That accursed triangle on your hand that binds you to your fate, saving you from it. A bit poetic, don't you think?"

The child just stared, the woman letting out a tinkling laugh.

But, the women had an idea now, and she wasn't going to give up on it. While the Triforce of Courage rested in her son, the other two pieces remained in the Sacred Realm, the door to which was in the Temple of Time. But no regular person could open the Sacred Realm, as only the one who the Master Sword deemed worthy would be able to raise it and open the gate. While the woman herself wasn't worthy, perhaps her son would be, despite his age and size. That was what those insane sages said, wasn't it?

So, the mother picked up her child, a look of guilt, grief and sadness briefly crossing her face for what she was planning to do. She donned the armour she had stolen off of the poor Hyrulean soldier who had been guarding the path to Death Mountain in order to disguise herself, and carefully placed her baby into her bag. She didn't have to worry about him crying, he had not made even a sound since the moment of his birth. Her small campsite in the Kakariko Village Well was no place to raise a child, and she knew that. So, when the sunlight finally stopped reflecting off the water, she climbed out into the night. It was a long walk to Castle Town across Hyrule Field, especially when you add factors such as her heavy armour, needing to check on her son, and her decreased physical ability due to the sleepless nights spent watching over the entrance to the well, making sure nobody would discover them. The gate to the town was closed at night, but she knew that with all of these combined, it would take her until morning to arrive anyway. So, she walked, straining and struggling the whole way, until morning arrived and she was at the gates. She took a brief rest to catch her breath, she might be caught if people saw her struggling when she was meant to be disguised as a soldier. Helm concealing her face, she finally entered Castle Town.

"Ey, soldier! You're meant to be stationed outside Death Mountain! And what's in that bag of yours?"

The woman almost jumped out of her skin, her heart skipping a beat for a moment when she heard this. She thought she was going to be stopped. Deepening her voice as much as she could, which wasn't much due to naturally being high pitched, she replied.

"Just delivering a message, sir, I've got someone covering my shift until I return."

"Alright then. But I better not catch you slacking off, you understand?"

"Understood, sir."

The woman almost breathed a sigh of relief, but quickly stifled it so as not to seem suspicious. It was early in the morning, and not many people were up and about this time of day, which made things easier for her. She advanced towards the Temple of Time, not once letting herself break character, and finally went inside, arriving at the Master Sword pedestal. She gently removed her infant from her bag, and placed his hands on the Master Sword. They were small. Too small for this large duty imposed upon him. He could barely even wrap his hands around the hilt, let alone raise the sword and kill with it. But, the child's touch was enough, and the blade allowed them both to lift it together. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I knew there was something off about you. You're that woman the Royal Family is-"

The man was cut off, as the Sacred Realm opened, sending a beam of pure golden light upwards to tell the whole world. In front of them was an expanse of gold, bathed in the light of an eternal sunset. A beautiful realm. If this was the last thing she ever saw, she could die happily. She climbed the marble stairs in front of her, with her son, and almost as if he sensed what she was about to do, he cried for the first time, the Triforce glowing prominently on his small hand, begging to be reunited with its two other powerful and wise counterparts. Holding her son in one arm and the Master Sword in the other, she ascended to the top, and the Triforce was completed once again.

"Triforce, I wish upon you. Please, transport my son somewhere safe, far away from here, where he can grow up like a normal child. Please, let him live."

The Triforce glowed brightly, and the Sacred Realm changed around her as her son wailed and screamed. He was raised into the air, and in a flash of light, he disappeared, her wish granted. The woman was alone with the Master Sword and her thoughts. With one last laugh, she raised the sword high and pointed it towards herself, so that they would never be able to find out what she wished for.

Meanwhile, in the United Kingdom, an infant was found abandoned in a field, seemingly having just appeared out of thin air. Nobody knew where he had come from, and he was eventually adopted by two expecting parents who didn't mind having another child with them.

Hylia was watching all of this from above, and she was not pleased with the woman's wish. It irritated her that she could not go against the will of the Triforce, even if it was for such a noble reason as needing the child back to save the Kingdom. However, the woman had only wished that he be allowed to grow up, he could still become the hero eventually if Hylia bent the rules, and she knew that. For now though, she couldn't touch him and would have to hide her time. But how to prepare him for his eventual duty when this world has not a monster to speak of, and the art of fighting is rarely taught? For three days and three nights, Hylia watched over this strange world with its advanced technology, until she discovered videogames. She was intrigued by these small virtual worlds, and saw their potential in teaching the hero. Nintendo games in particular caught her eye, they were the most popular in this world, and for good reason too. So, Hylia travelled back to the past of that world to bring the story of Hyrule to Nintendo. The people of this land used strange number codes to keep track of the date, and according to Hylia's knowledge, it was 1984. With her influence, the Legend of Zelda series began development, named after her mortal reincarnation.

Link was now twelve years old, and his younger brother was eleven. His brother hadn't cared much for the Legend of Zelda, but after being introduced to it by his father, Link had always felt a strange connection to the world of Hyrule, beyond just sharing a name with the protagonist. Today was another boring day of classes for him. His hands absentmindedly drifted to his ears. They had always felt... wrong, somehow. There was nothing abnormal about them though. Every time he checked, there was nothing strange about them. But, that feeling of wrongness never went away. Sometimes, when he looked in the mirror, they would seem pointed, out of the corner of his eye, even though he knew that was impossible, and it was far more likely that he just had a few screws loose.

"Link, answer the question."

The teacher said impatiently. He hadn't been paying attention again. He quickly looked at the girl beside him to see what question they were on.

"The answer is 17."

"Correct. But pay better attention next time. You're smart, but that doesn't mean you can get away with being lazy."

'Yes it does.' Link thought, but he held his tongue, as always. He was a well-behaved student to a bit of a worrying degree, his mother actually payed him to get in trouble, although it backfired on her when he demanded money for not doing his chores. He just nodded along like he was listening. "Smart.", the teacher had said. It annoyed him. Every Friday, a student was selected and every other student had to write one good thing about them for mental health or something. For him, it was always just "smart", "intelligent", "good at math", "good at spelling", with the occasional "nice", "kind" or "pretty" from the students that just wrote the same thing for everyone. He had liked it at first, but it was getting repetitive, and at this point, it felt like a bit of an insult. What about everything else? He didn't like being known for his smarts, he had other defining qualities he wished people would talk about. Is his academic skill all he has? Despite not being blood related, his brother was the same, as a result of his competitiveness driving him to try and beat Link, although it never worked.

The bell rang, and Link got out of his seat and packed his bags in a hurry so he could leave quickly. He was often made a target by some of the more annoying students, since he never fought back out of fear of getting in trouble for defending himself, and because his long hair, petite size and more reserved personality gave them lots to pick on. Luckily, he made it out in time, and walked home. His days continued on in a similar manner to this one for many years, with only a few notable events, such as starting horse-riding lessons and briefly trying out different martial arts.

When he finally turned eighteen, he decided to get a tattoo of the Triforce on his left hand. He had been planning to do this for quite a while, with the only thing stopping him being the law and the common sense required not to break it and end up getting an infection or a low quality tattoo. While his hair wasn't as long as it had been when he was twelve years old and refused to cut his hair, it was still reasonably long now, a little below shoulder length at the back. He spent even more time indoors than he did before, researching and working harder than ever, while still leaving enough time for videogames and writing by sacrificing sleep.

He was alright with the way he was living, but something still felt off. There was something he was supposed to be doing, he just couldn't figure out what. He got a part-time job, the feeling didn't go away, he studied harder, the feeling didn't go away, he applied for university, the feeling didn't go away. No matter what, there was always that nagging feeling in the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something important. It had always been present, but now it was worsening. Every time he looked at his left hand, at the tattoo of the Triforce, it felt like it was trying to remind him of some long forgotten duty. Days were lost trying to figure out what was wrong, and he decided to go back to playing the Legend of Zelda games, his childhood favourites, and somehow, they seemed to dull the pain and stress even when nothing else did. He collected all the Golden Skulltulas, fused hundreds of Kinstones, found every Korok, and then did it again in speedrun form. Sometimes, he wrote theories as well, or streamed himself playing the games. He had a small following, but it was steadily growing larger as he became more of a known name in the community. Sharing a name with Link helped with that as well, it made him stand out.

After a year of this life, balancing his part-time jobs with his social media and online career, along with school, he lost more and more sleep and started getting burnt-out from all this work. But, on one late rainy night that he finally found out what he was missing.

#hero of simulation #linksona #is it linked universe if the other links havent appeared yet?#ill edit tags later when I decide or when I rewrite first meetings and link it #legend of zelda #this isnt a romance btw he was missibg a lizard and a giant portal #first draft of part two was posted already but as I said before im rewriting it #I added the section of how he was when he was twelve both to show the progress of the wrongness over time #and because he would never willingly talk about his past #so i still needes to show those key character details from back then #i should stop before I write a whole essay jn the tags

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wine-dark-soup · 3 months

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opting out of the fucking french language by switching my video games to english (way more gender neutral than french) only to feel euphoria when i do play a game in french and my character is gendered correctly

#Me like thats so cool. No gender markers in english.#Me ten minutes later when my tarnished is called unE sans-éclat: hold on it makes her a woman which she is woah #What the fuck are languages doing to me.#Editing this to say tags were hastily added i dont believe pronouns = gender #I meant to say i saw her as a woman so having her going from [gender neutral/english] to traditional feminine pronouns [elle/french]#Was like actually confirming her gender. Because before that she wasnt actually a woman because of the English Haze in my head.#Do i make sense. Am i insane

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comet-wire · 1 year

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Anyways don't follow me/interact if you support Captain Howdie (creator of r/nfren) and/or if you can somehow excuse what they did lol

TW: for racism, pedophilia, anti semitism etc

#im not even a fan of ranfren btw #i will say i never was either #but at one point i wanted to get into it bc i liked the art style but when i did research on it like i always do on a source #before getting into a source i found so much shit that made me steer away from it #especially the creator and their bullshit #val rambles #comet rambles #ive added this to my dni bc i completely forgot about it #until someone followed me and reminded me of it 😟#putting in queue so itll deploy later #you may see this when im asleep lol #tw antisemitism #tw pedophila mention #tw racism #editing tags jan 8 2023 #please respect my boundary i may have come off unpleasant but please be a good person and just soft block me if you find an issue with this #and still support them in anyway #educating is different but if you're going to get cocky with me over this you're the problem #also its censored because of the tagging system in which i neglected to even think about #not because its a trigger atleast not for me but it unfortunately makes me uncomfortable to engage with if anything

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youngandstinky · 1 year

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Chapters: 1/1 Words: 5,235

Fandom: Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023), Trigun (Anime & Manga 1995-2008) Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

“And how many double dollars will you give me for gettin’ that thing offa you?” Wolfwood teases, leaning over his face, a smirk appearing whose intention is to solve the mystery behind Vash’s cryptic positivity. He's trying to get him to talk on purpose.

“I'll buy you one drink.” A feeble attempt at playing along. Vash holds one finger up with his free hand to really sell it, but his ataxic speech has betrayed him for sure.

“Deal. You sure you're alright, Needle-Noggin?”

[Vash sustains an injury that Wolfwood thinks even a plant like him might not survive. The deadly situation forces out some feelings.]

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #posting again without the massive wall of text caused by the tags!#added a pic for some funky flare too #sorry for posting twice!#vashwood #the pic is stampede vashwood but elements are drawn from all incarnations #ive made a bunch of edits since yesterday too #I think it's much better than before!! NOW it is the definitive version baby #May go and delete the original post so everything's nice and clean #BUT THAT ONE HAS ALL THE NOTES #trigun fanfiction #vashwood fic

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aria0fgold · 7 months

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I just got to thinking... Moments where a character argued with their loved one only to find out next day something bad happened to them is some wonderful angst, but I think the opposite is also equally devastating.

Moments where you happily said "See you later!" or "See you tomorrow!" or even moments where you excitedly planned a hangout with them. Fully expectating to still be able to talk to your loved tomorrow, to still be able to spend time with them, only to find out that they're gone, whether it'd be they're missing or dead, is soul-crushing.

Cuz everything wasn't out of the ordinary the day before, it was just any other normal day, like all the other days before that too. Everything was fine, so where did it all go wrong?

#aria rants #i was thinking about the miscommunication prompt #and was like: have i ever thought bout a scene where alec and ray argued?#obviously they have but i only ever just put that as a one sentence info #and it got me thinkin that what if they argued before everything went wrong?#but then i also thought that itd be even better if they didnt argue at all. it was just a normal day #i think thatd make it more devastating for them #wait. edit: adding some tags not oc related #i think those moments hit even harder if the cause of death is suicide #cuz everything was alright the day before. you were happily talking with your loved one #only to find them dead the next day and now you just had to wonder if there were any signs at all #that you couldve noticed. maybe you mightve been able to save them then. so theres the guilt to it too #hero from omori honestly

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xinyuehui · 1 year

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do you have a tag for your gifs where you add the emoji/kaomojis on top of people's faces? they're so cute!

Heyy Anon!! I did not, but now I do ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ please see tell me about it in kaomoji

#ask #anon #this is a great idea why did i not do that before???!! anyways i went back and added the tag to the old posts #but i think tumblr is a bit bugged so some of them dont appear in the tag but thats okay any edits from now on will be tagged!#new kaomoji edit coming soon ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ

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bolides · 1 year

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ok testing the new post editor

#whispers from beyond {ooc}#ok so i see the issue with the tags which IS annoying but i've had this with answering asks so its not new to me at least #it IS nice to be able to edit tags before adding them tho ngl

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meteorologears · 2 years

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Happy Milo Monday!! Enjoy this fic I've been working on called 'M&W Lingerie', a concept which I developed with @tealdog. It's pretty short.

#sex happens in it--if you couldn't guess from the title. read at your own risk #m&w are a staple in it but cathcart and korn are also there #my writing #c22 #i am not putting this in the tag. peace and love #edit: adding a little more now that i didn't have before. for fun #catchllection

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ducknotinarow · 2 years

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[BlitzoStolas] « if you got hurt, i… i don’t know what i would’ve done. »

| Concerned and Protective Starters

Stolas should know better and in part, he did truly but sometimes things slipped his mind or maybe he was just fishing for a distraction. He wouldn't take back anything he did given the chance he would maybe let things happen a different way so as to save from some of the more painful moments of everything that happened. Why was this movie just so sad? His thought was a bit all over the place, resting his head on the arm of his couch. Gripping the wine bottle in his talons. Stolas just wanted time to decompress after the day. It had been an awfully long day. Stolas still had to deal with the criticism of his peers and those above him. It was bad enough he felt like he was failing everything he was led to believe by his father..

Oh. He forgot to take his pills! Moving to sit up now as he wiped at his eyes no wonder he was in such a slump right now. Reaching for his remote he pauses his movie. He had watched it many times before it was a sad story of two people so in love but the leading lady of the film dies in the movie. For the sake of her love, oh it was so wonderfully tragic and Stolas would hate to miss his favorite part when she gets the moment to proclaim her love to him after living in fear for so long! he needed to get back to his viewing. Making his way to the kitchen as he started looking around he kind of forgot when he put the pills at. Stolas had to wonder when he last took them even. Going to look where he was positive he last set the bottle, where he always did with other medication kept in the place.

Eyes landed on the prescription bottle in its usual spot of his cardboard a sigh of relief as he grab at the bottle. The lid was popped off with ease. With how often Stolas took them normally always at the same time, he had this down it was almost a habit on its own and he dropped the pills into his mouth. It should be fine right? it wasn't too late. He thought once more trying to relax his worrying train of thought. As he set the bottle of pills down on the counter. His mind was swimming right now going to set a hand to his head when he felt the glass of the wine bottle touch his head. "Maybe a small sip would be fine?" he questioned himself ignoring the fact he already had plenty in his system as is. Just a few sips would be fine right? Right. He convinced himself to think as he took a swig from the bottle. Doing so soon after the pills though had his eyes growing heavy as Stolas lowered his head to the counter leaving the wine bottle next to the pill bottle.

In the blink of four eyes Stolas felt as if no time at all had passed, perhaps his body was just tried out from duties and stuff with Stella, she of course didn't make the divorce easy, not to mention things with him and Octiva. Yes, he just needed some rest that was all, he would just rest his eyes for a good few minutes. Then get up and make his way back into the tv room so he could finish up his movie. That was the plan but then it seemed those few minutes stretched out as he had become sedated by the mix of his pills and wine. a dizzy spell setting on them as if the room was rotating around he felt his legs buckle a little struggling to stay up, slipping down. To then finding himself laying, well sitting and leaning up against the lower cardboards of the kitchen.

Oh his head was killing him, a throbbing pain to it he may have bumped it thoughts a bit clear at least but oh that was stupid, that was a very stupid thing he just did. Going to try and get up when he felt something set on his shoulder, not pushing him more but advising to stay where he was. Goggy-eyed Stolas blinked and tried to focus his gaze, only to see his favorite sight. Blitz, smiling a little having forgotten everything for just a moment. "Oh, Blitzy I didn't hear you come in when did you?" The imp didn't look as excited as him to see him, the owl couldn't understand why. Blitz went to tell them he kept calling him over and over so he came to check on him. Stolas just became confused at that information. "I called you? when did I?" Stolas had only just taken a sip of wine when did he grab his phone? Slightly biting at his bottom bill now when he looked out to the windows finding the sky far lighter than it should have been. "My my mistake" he stuttered a bit trying to cover for himself "I must have had too much wine and went on a drunk calling spree to you" he tried to play it off to them as if it were just a simple mistake. "I hope I didn't wake you, darling." They didn't seem to be buying it Stolas really didn't want to upset the imp again, not when they were in such a good place together.

Blitz sat down next to him now letting out a sigh, oh he was upset with Stolas. He bothered them too much, hadn't he? Stolas had to correct this. It was more than a stupid thing he did, about to speak up and lay on some affection to the imp. "Blitz I'm fine see?" he offered "I just went too heavy on my wine long day and I got all worked up with this movie I was watching I came in here to" he trailed off a moment top set of eyes looking just nearly able to see the bottle of wine there still..it was tipped over now. "A glass for my wine I need to stop drinking straight from the bottle you see. The movie has a romance side plot so I must have been thinking all about you and couldn't help myself" he went on to lie only to be met with an expression on the imp face he couldn't define he had never seen that kind of look before. Thier golden eyes were staring at them anything Blitz could say was being voiced through the look alone. They glanced up to the counter as well as if to call Stolas' bluff. It took Stolas a moment to understand what they could be trying to get at.

The pills. Stolas felt a tinge of shame now. "You oh uh you saw- saw them." Words were struggling to come out now that it was in the open, Stolas scratching at his neck slightly tugging on the feathers there. Not enough to pluck just for the sensation, before he slumped back against the cardboard. "I'm sorry," Stolas went to say as if he owned an apogoly to the imp over this all. "I fucked up I hadn't taken them and I wasn't thinking." He heard Blitz sigh and he was ready for a tongue lashing. But one didn't happen.

"if you got hurt, i… i don’t know what i would’ve done."

"oh" it slipped out without any thought on Stolas' part. Now, what did he say to claim he was fine still? moving over to sit in closer to the imp, "I'm sorry I don't know what to say beyond that I made a mistake." a very bad one at that. Letting his beak open only to close once more he didn't know what to say he just didn't want the imp to be upset with him anymore. "I'm sorry" he only said again.

#muse| stolas #aflockoffeathers #madamkezzie #[how do we rewrite the stars? say you were made to be mine aflockoffeathers]#concerned and protective starters #stay qeued #tw:depression #tw: self harm #((Look idk if hell even has pills for this but like blitz mentioned a therapist before soooo))#((your just getting more of my nonse sorry my hands are tied u3u))#((and I wanted ti finish up older memes sooo since these are the last few from this one~~))#Edit: ((adding this tag cause uh seems I was right XD I am sorry for this timing!))

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hussyknee · 1 year

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i'm so confused rn, can you explain the goncharov thing?? i get off tumblr for five minutes

(Edits closed as of 28 Nov.)

Lmaoooo

Nah I getchu. So this post has been circulating for like two years:

Link to post.

But yesterday, it had inspired someone to do this:

Link to post.

Next thing I knew there were fake Letterboxed reviews.

Goncharov moodboards. Really good ones.

Link to post.

Meta analysis. So many fake meta essays. Disturbingly good ones. And of course the memes. (Edit: HAVE I SAID THIS SHIT IS DISTURBING)

As you can see, the myth just started to grow, characters and ships and tropes being added one after the other, almost bizzarely without contradiction, until there was enough of shape to the whole thing for people to start posting fanfic about it on AO3. "No beta we die like ice-pick Joe" is already a tag.

Link to post.

It was hilarious in the beginning, but the way it's developed within less than a day, kind of like it's being willed into existence, is freaking me out a bit. We're toying with powers beyond our comprehension. 😂😂😂

Link to post.

Of course, there could be an ulterior motive as well.

Link to post (tags mine).

Edit: guys, please tag these posts "unreality" so people with disassociation issues can filter them out (not this one, this is an explainer). <3

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Edit 2: Aparently the boots in the original post are actually referring to a movie called Gomorrah that came out in 2008, directed by Mateo Garrone, based on the Scampia Feud. And other people had also been making posts about the fake movie for a while before the poster took off.

found by @thepotch

Edit 3: Explainer: why did those boots have this movie on them anyway?

Edit 4: Alt text added to all images courtesy of @valentineish ❤️

Edit 5: Turns out tumblr has done this kind of thing before. Nine years in this hell place and I had to have "Squiddles" and penis smp explained in the replies.

Edit 6: This post collects the Lore so far.

Edit 7: Lynda Carter (real one)/ earns more/ Tumblr cred.

Edit 8: Holy shit y'all we have the theme music. With sheet music. And it's on Spotify!

Edit 9: THERE IS A TRAILER WITH THE THEME MUSIC

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I made this post 18 hours after the movie poster went up. Closed edits 27 hours after first posting. So all of the above happened within 45 hours of the movie poster going up.

Edit 10: Google document live-compiling all the lore so far (Day 3)

Edit 11: Masterpost of Goncharov soundtracks (Day 3)

Edit 12: Entertainment news articles covering the Gonch-posting (real) (Contd from yday)

Edit 13: The music from the masterpost all compiled into a 31-minute original score with video edits on YouTube (edit: unfortunately taken down)

Edit 14: Staff's Goncharov art showcase for Tumblr Tuesday

As of closing on Day 3 there are 371 works in the AO3 tag.

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Updating with Day 3 shenanigans I missed yesterday:

Edit 15: Goncharov TV Tropes page

Edit 16: Ethics of Gonchposting

Important PSA 1 (how to reduce harm to Tumblr's neurodivergents)

Important PSA 2 (reality affirmation, anti-bullying)

Important PSA 3 (why you should stop trying to vandalise legit information sites)

Edit 17: Character lore from beezlebub whose poster they originated from

Edit 18: What we know about/ Director Matteo JWHJ0715 (#unreality)

Edit 19: Link to post with screenshotted and described NYT article (scroll down) and this golden exerpt from BuzzFeed: 💀

(alt text included)

End of Day 4 there are now 485 works in the Goncharov tag on AO3

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Didn't get to update this on Day 5, so these are the Day 5 doings:

More trailers!

Trailer 1 (My favourite)

Trailer 2

Trailer 3

Trailer 4

I also just found out about the Goncharov Game Jam.

It appears this opened a day after after the meme took off.

Goncharov was first entered into Wikipedia between Day 4 and 5 (attempts to vandalise it with fake info don't count, incidentally – please knock that shit off) under List of Internet Phenomena. This was then expanded into its own Wikipedia page at the end of Day 5 because, according to the talk history: "the topic now meets the notability threshold for its own artice due to significant coverage in The New York Times and other sources cited." We're on Wikipedia, people!

And then we made The Guardian half a day later. So while the meme is definitely dying down to embers by now, it still stays winning.

YouTube channels with episodes on the meme:

InformOverlord (4:30)

Lessons in Meme Culture (2:43)

End of Day of 5 there were 511 works on AO3, and End of Day 6 (today) there are 556.

🚨BREAKING 🚨 from Martin Scorsese's daughter's TikTok (real actual)

tw: unreality:

We did it you guys!

Clarification: Francesca Scorcese asked her Dad about the meme and Martin played along. Please reblog this PSA to help Tumblr people with psychosis. Thanks.

Final edit: Day 8. Media reactions to Scorcese's TikTok (everyone from Forbes to Vulture). That one Tumblr user who said they'd do a screenplay if their post got notes has promised to shoot a single scene, but please don't be dicks just because you reblogged it; leave them alone until they get around to it themselves. As of end of Day 8 there are 609 works in the AO3 tag. I love all you lunatics. Peace! ❤️

#goncharov 1973 #reasons i can never leave this hellsite #we've ascended from pirating criterion movies to straight up manifesting them into existence #get on our level twits #knee of huss #goncharov #tumblr lore #tumblr memes #tumblr culture

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