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xoxoladyaz · 4 months

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Krampus Baby

Me: we should write a cute little holiday blurb to publish on Christmas Eve, maybe something Hallmark-y, maybe some mistletoe -

Also Me: KRAMPUS EDDIE KRAMPUS EDDIE KRAMPUS EDDIE

So that's what we've got for you today, my lovelies!

CW: BDSM, allusions to punishment, brief descriptions of sex, implied future monsterfucking

“Babe, this isn’t what it looks like!”

“Oh, really? And what exactly does this look like, Eddie?!” Steve stood in the doorway to Eddie’s all-purpose-game-room-slash-music-studio-slash-office and glared at him, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

Eddie shot a frantic look at the guys. Gareth and Phil were very conveniently looking elsewhere (the traitors). Jeff, who was the only one brave enough to make eye contact with Eddie, just shook his head slowly. “You’re on your own, dude.”

Well, shit.

The truth is, Eddie knew he was the only person to blame for the situation he’d found himself in. But in his defense, it’s not like there’s a manual that you get when you become a Krampus that says “hey, here’s how you tell your boyfriend/girlfriend/partner/spouse/whatever that you’re a Krampus, meaning that you spend all of Christmas Eve travelling around your assigned region and birching people that Santa/Jesus/someone says needs to be scared onto the straight and narrow.”

Well. Maybe he could have just led with that and gone from there?

Fuck, this would have been so much easier if he’d just agreed to be a Santa but no, his dramatic gay eighteen-year-old born-in-the-North-Pole ass just had to pick the more flamboyant career option. And sure, it was fun for a while – he’d always had a flair for theatrics and performing and every December 24 he gave the performance of a lifetime – but after about ten years of birching undeserving creeps he’d realized hey, maybe something like this could be fun the other 364 days of the year with humans he actually liked (or, ya know, that he at least thought were hot and wanted to get off with.)

And so Eddie the Krampus became Eddie Munson, training Dom at the Hellfire Club, and after twenty-seven years of walking this earth, he finally felt like everything in his life had fallen into place. Naturally that’s when he met Steve Harrington, a bratty little prince with perfect hair and an even more perfect ass and fell madly in love – far past the point of no return, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. He’d never really given a lot of serious thought to love or dating or anything like that because, you know, the whole Krampus thing, but from the moment he laid eyes on Steve his entire world had shifted to orbit around his beautiful, delightfully dorky, somewhat clueless human. Even more incredibly, Steve seemed to feel the same way because he'd given Eddie a key to his house after only four weeks of dating and happily reorganized his home so Eddie could have his own space and fuck, Eddie was going to marry this human and make him immortal and traipse all around the world with him until it was time for him the next generation of Krampus’ to take over.

(Krampusses? Krampusi? Krampussies? There really wasn’t a great plural form of his job title, was there?)

Right, it was a great plan, no, it was a perfect plan, because nothing could be better than almost-eternity with Steve. There was just one teeny tiny minor flaw with his plan, that being the fact that he, uh, forgot to tell Steve.

And now it was December 24th, and Eddie and the guys had finally gotten home from a long night of birching (which wasn’t really fun anymore now that Eddie got to punish someone he loved in a very, very fun way almost daily) and were unwinding with a beer when Steve had stormed in – Steve, who was asleep when Eddie left.

Steve, who was now seeing Eddie in his Krampus form for the first time (along with Jeff and Gareth and Phil). Steve, who looked angrier than the time that Eddie tried to experiment with forks in all of the electrical outlets in their house.

Steve, who was probably the first human to ever cause a Krampus nightmares.

“I can’t believe this. I seriously cannot fucking believe this, Eddie - ”

“Look, baby, I know this looks kind of crazy,” Eddie started slowly, extremely conscious of the way his horns protruded out of his hair, of the soot on his furry legs and the loud clopping sound his cloven hooves made as they tapped nervously on the floor. (He’d never felt bad about how he looked in this form; hell, he even thought he looked kind of hot. Not everyone can pull off the whole “burning-red-eyes-and-weirdly-long-tongue” thing like he could. But now that he found himself caught in Steve’s fiery gaze, he wanted nothing more than to disappear into a tiny ball, to make Steve forget that he’s ever looked like this.) “And I was meaning to tell you, I really was, but - ”

“Oh, really?” Steve scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Eddie even further. “You were meaning to tell me that you were punishing other people, is that what you’re trying to say?”

“ – wouldn’t believe me anyways, I mean, most people don’t believe in Krampus – wait, what?” Eddie cut off as Steve’s words worked their way into his brain. “I – what?”

“You heard me,” Steve scoffed again. “You just forgot to tell me you’re punishing other people? Even though we’ve been exclusive for almost a year? Even though you moved into my house?!”

“I – Steve, wait, it’s not like that - ”

“Oh, really,” Steve repeated himself, “so you didn’t spend Christmas Eve running around and whipping people who aren’t me?”

Eddie shot another look at the guys, all of whom looked as shocked as Eddie felt. (Except for Gareth, that little fucker was grinning like this was the funniest thing he’d ever witnessed.) “Steve, it’s not - ”

“It’s not like what, Eddie? It’s not like you threw a fit the one time someone else tried to Dom me but apparently that doesn’t go both ways! Apparently, I have to share you! You better not be fucking them, Eddie Munson,” Steve seethed, “because I swear to God – ”

“No, no, no! Steve, I wouldn’t, I would never,” Eddie raced out, cautiously stepping closer to his boyfriend. “And it’s not – it’s not like us, okay, it’s literally just punishment and nightmares and stuff. Most of them won’t even remember me tomorrow!”

“Oh, but some will?”

“I – maybe?”

“What Eddie is trying to say,” Jeff saved him by jumping in, “is that this is just a job for us, man. It’s literally just a job. We really don’t get that sort of enjoyment out of it. Hell, most of us aren’t even in the lifestyle outside of this.”

“Yeah, Eddie’s just weird,” Gareth snickered, although he sobered somewhat when Eddie turned to glare at him.

“He loves you, man. He wouldn’t cheat,” Jeff finished. “That’s not what this is.”

Steve huffed, although the crease in his brow had softened somewhat. “You’re really a Krampus, then? And the horns and shit are real?”

“Yeah – yeah, super real, see?” Eddie said, grabbing hold of his horns and yanking them as hard as he could. Ouch. “This is just my Krampus form. I, uh, don’t wear it out all that often.”

“But you have horns.”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie replied nervously.

Steve’s face went through a few emotions before settling on angry. “You mean I could have been holding onto your horns the entire time we’ve been fucking?”

Eddie heard the sound of someone choking loudly behind him, but he didn’t have the brain space to care about that; in fact, the only brain space he had was completely overrun by images of Steve on his back, hands gripped around Eddie’s horns as Eddie drove him further and further into their bed. “I, uh - ”

“Well,” Steve cut off his blabbering with a cold look, “since it’s Christmas Eve and all, I might as well do a little punishing of my own.” He turned on his heel and stomped out of the doorway, pausing briefly to yell back over his shoulder. “You’re sleeping on the couch!”

“BABE!” Eddie whined back, stomping his hoof on the ground. “Until when?!?!”

“Until I say so!” Steve hollered as he disappeared out of view.

“That went well,” Gareth said drily once Steve was out of earshot. The sound of their bedroom door slamming echoed into Eddie’s man-cave and all four Krampus’ winced.

“Yeah, good luck getting out of that one, man,” Phil said, and with a nod he disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Gareth snorted and followed suit, leaving Eddie and Jeff standing alone.

“Honestly, I really think it could have gone worse. You might need to speed up the timeline on that ring, though.” Jeff clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Unless you have another plan.”

“Oh,” Eddie replied slowly, quietly, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. “I have a plan, all right.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t worry me at all,” Jeff rolled his eyes. “It’s your funeral, man.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hummed, thinking about the brand new switch he’d purchased for Steve – one of his many, many gifts for the man. “At least I’ll die doing what I love.”

“And that is?”

Eddie smirked even wider. “Why, punishing Steve.”

#let me know if you wanna see steve get punished #because I am having some THOUGHTS let me tell you #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie holiday fic

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darkcandy-starfait · 23 days

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Theory: Ralsei is a Titan (or at least a Neo darkner)

Hey so. this theory and analysis has been long over due, I'm so sorry but I kept forgetting and getting sidetracked with school work.

Okay so many people have noticed how weird Ralsei is, he's honestly a whole can of worms on his own without considering every theory being made about him.

But I have had this particular theory in my for like almost a whole fucking year, so let me propose a weirder one: Ralsei is a titan.

What do I mean by that? Honestly, I kind of only half way know what that means, since this is more of crack theory but here are my points

We all know that Ralsei looks different between the first two chapters. But a few people have pointed out that Ralsei's transformation from chapter 1 to chapter 2 is rather strange, as the two look very different. Toby has said that Ralsei looking different was a recent choice made during development.

He first starts out as this black, fluffy figure in a ratty looking robe, with his hands mostly obscured, and a hat. but after he takes off the hat, he suddenly looks very different: white fur, and more boss monster like. in chapter 2 we see his robes are neater looking and his arms are visible with black sleeves.

I find this bizarre, because it's such a drastic change. Looking at his two forms side by side, it almost looks like two different characters. Like, taking off a hat should not change your form like that, even if it might be dark world logic.

Ralsei is also shown to disappear when he's downed in battles. Susie, Kris and Noelle all have sprites of them kneeling or collapsed on the ground when their hp reaches 0. But ralsei just... turns into a pile of his clothes, in both forms. Almost like he's made of nothing??

Ralsei also seems seems just show up in dark worlds without Kris or Susie bringing him there in his supposed object form. Other darkners like Rouxls and Lancer are physical objects (both of them are playing cards), and need to be carried in Kris' pocket to the Cyber World. Kris has to physically take all the objects from rooms and bring them back to the supply closet.

Since we still only have two chapters at the moment, what object Ralsei actually is in the light world is currently a mystery. Some say he could Kris' red horned headband (personal favourite of mine), or even the missing green crayon in the Dreemurr house.

I even theorised that he might be Kris' mysterious knife they always seem to have on them, which is why he's always in the dark world shortly after Kris and Susie arrive there. But we never see Kris' knife in their inventory anywhere, unless Kris is just. materialising the knife out of thin air???

This still doesn't change to fact that Ralsei, if he did have an light world object equivalent, would have to be carried around like every other darkner in order to travel to other dark worlds. But he doesn't. He just... shows up in Cyber World to help Susie and Kris without any explanation other than "I felt a dark presence."

Most interestingly, he later explains that darkners who don't belong in other dark worlds will turn to stone. All the Card Castle characters in the Cyber World turn to stone in chapter 2, but Ralsei doesn't. He does say that Castle Town's fountain is made of pure darkness, so that's why all darkners can live there.

Ralsei being Castle Town's ruler helps him in this case, and the fact that a piece of text in Toby's concepts for Ralsei's manual says that Ralsei's form is made from Castle Town's fountain. Makes sense that a being made from pure darkness would be able to live in every dark world. But here's another question I have.

WHY is Castle Town's fountain made of pure darkness? How did it get this way? Is it because the fountain has maybe been around longer, while others like Card Kingdom and Cyber World were created only recently? What makes a fountain pure darkness?

Well here we bring up some interesting lore from Queen in chapter 2. Queen says that she needs a lightner to help spread more darkness, by literally opening a dark fountain inside a dark world. In the Giga Queen fight, she calls it a Neo Fountain.

Berdly almost makes this a reality, only to be stopped by Ralsei, who suddenly drops the lore about the Roaring.

The Roaring is a prophecy of a sort of apocalyptic event, where opening more dark fountains and fountains within fountains could cause mass destruction. Giant beings known as Titans will form from all the fountains, and will cover the world in darkness, turning darkners to stone and leaving humans to fend for themselves.

Ralsei speaks of this like its either a prophecy that was passed down to him, or something he even witnessed first hand. Maybe that's why he has no subjects in Castle Town. But I want to go back to everything I've said here about Ralsei, the most important ones bolded.

• is able to change forms by the drop of a hat (haha)

• is supposedly made of pure darkness like Castle Town's fountain

• fades into nothing when he's downed in battles

• can travel between dark worlds without being brought physically in the light world

• doesn't turn to stone when in other dark worlds while many other darkners do

• knows about a catastrophic event where more fountains are made and giant beasts made from darkness ravage the land

That last part. When I remembered that Ralsei said that the titans are formed from dark fountains, and that Ralsei is a darkner of pure darkness... well that got me thinking: What if Ralsei is a young titan? His first form in chapter 1 could be closer to his true titan form, and he might be taking a new form in chapter 2 to appeal more to lightners.

(Side note Ralsei taking the form of a boss monster, the species that Kris' family is, is another can of worms I have to save when I talk about their connections.)

What if Ralsei is a product of a Neo fountain being created? What if he's the last remnant of a time when there were more fountains, when the sky was black with terror, and the land cracked with fear.

Like, NEO fountains are even talked about more in the Spamton Sweepstakes. When you play this puzzle on the website, and click the 3rd option on the bottom row, you are brought to a sprite of a chair.

We all know the chair, but the phrase in the window of this page definitely seems seems be hinting at the creation of Neo fountains.

What if that's Ralsei's deal. Even if he isn't a titan, what if he's some kind of Neo darkner? What if he's more darkner than darkners in general?

Honestly I'm fully prepared for this theory to be steam rolled over when the next two chapters drop, but it was fun and interesting to write nontheless! I'm interested to see if anyone else has their own theory about this or if you even had the same thoughts?

#ralsei #deltarune #theory #safeutdr #analysis #ralsei titan theory #this took way too long to make and i still had to include less images than i woulf have likes because of tumblr's stupid image limit #but. here it is. finally lmao #very interested to see what you all have to say about this!#long post #almost forgot that one djdkkf

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bahbahhh · 10 months

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begin again

a lot of change happens in between Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. let’s fill in the gaps.

zelda pov | zelink | totk spoilers | rated T zelinkweek2023 | @zelinkcommunity

[first] [previous] [ ao3 ]

ao3 appears to be back up more consistently, but I will continue to post full chapters on tumblr.

your comments, kudos, reblogs, likes, feral tags, questions, curiosities, are all so appreciated. seriously, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

read on ao3

chapter 3

for the prompt “letters”

‘You sure?’ Link signs with one hand. He’s sifting through the chest at the foot of his bed, layers of silk and cotton and wool in every color around his feet. He’s started clearing out unessential belongings from the Sheikah Slate in preparation for his travel and by the looks of it, – there are piles of material everywhere (gemstones, rock salt, a heap of shields, a basket of Hinox toenails) – he seems a little overwhelmed he has to manage the sorting manually once again.

Zelda leans her back against the banister lining the loft that overlooks the main floor to his home. There is a bundle of blue nightshade in the vase by his bed. It glows dimly in the absence of sunlight through the window, like a children’s bedside candle. She used to have one to ward off nightmares after her mother died.

“I’m sure,” Zelda answers and glances back at the nightshade. Does he just prefer them or does he need the glow? After he emerged from the Shrine of Resurrection, when she was still able to watch over him while he slept, in the shade of a tree, in a corner bed of a traveler’s stable, by a small fire in the wild, she would sometimes catch him jolting into consciousness. Frantically reaching for whatever weapon was laid to rest beside him, pulling back from the spot his body had been, as if trying to escape something unseen and unyielding. For some reason, she always imagined a dozen hands reaching out for him from the dark of his dreams.

He stops sifting through the chest at the foot of his bed and turns to face her. ‘It’s cold.’

“Yup.”

“Really cold,” he says out loud.

“I remember.” She flinches as the words roll off her tongue. Such a simple phrase and yet, spoken to him, after all he’s been through, it feels like a knife in her hands. She knows he’s just being honest, thoughtful even, but the insecure parts of her claim he doesn’t want her to come. She crosses her arms over her chest and tries to keep the edge out of her tone. “I’d like to see the Spring.”

It's the last shrine in the region for Link to clear. Tomorrow he’ll be off to Eldin to start on the shrines there and then he’ll work his way east. An urgent message came in about a week ago from the Gorons. The lava appears to be cooling and they fear Death Mountain will fall dormant before they can commit Vah Rudania into the central vent. No one can recall a time when the Gorons expressed urgency, so Link’s original journey was revised.

It’s taken two full months to plot out Link’s path. They have to be somewhat strategic about the shrines because he loses the ability to fast travel when he clears one, which isn’t much of an issue at the start, but as the shrines disappear, he will need to rely more upon horseback or foot to navigate back and forth. He is to clear a region, take a monster census, check in with the group running point on the guardian removal, load whatever is left into the Sheikah Slate, and then move onto the next region. They estimate he can clear at least three shrines a day. Originally, the plan proposed more, but Link hinted at the unpleasant side effects of excessive Slate travel and the Summit unanimously agreed to accept whatever he could manage.

Purah estimates if they stay on track, all Sheikah Technology could be gone in a year.

A year.

Link turns back to the trunk. He fishes out a tunic, vest, and trousers, embroidered with the symbols of Rito Village, and tosses them in her direction. Zelda lunges forward to catch it all, weighing them in her arms carefully. Impossibly light for how thick the material is, she can smell the crispness of Tabanthan wind, like it’s woven into the fabric itself.

She blinks. “Is this your snowquill set?”

He nods.

“You’ve just finished telling me how cold Mount Lanayru’s peak is.”

He nods and holds up an emerald green doublet. The right sleeve is badly torn.

Zelda shakes her head, holding out the snowquill set to him. “ I don’t need–”

He gives her a look. It will take him all of a minute to clear the shrine with the Slate, but they have to travel by foot down the mountain to Kakariko because he’s already cleared the rest of the surrounding shrines (hence the need for strategy moving forward).

“I can wear the doublet,” she insists. He rolls his eyes. The ease with which he accepts personal discomfort has always bothered her, but especially now when it is on her behalf. She wants to tell him doesn’t own her anything, not his best cold gear, not his smile; that she’s better equipped to handle being uncomfortable than most after standing in a festering spring of rot and oil for a hundred years, but before she can protest further, he lifts his shirt up over his head.

Scars weave like roads on a map across his chest, memories of pain etched forever into olive skin, the worst of which a blossom of twisted flesh on his left side where the guardian carved an entire piece of him out with a fatal glare all those years ago. It’s memory she wishes would erode with time, but clear as the day it happened, she can still feel the scream he let out when it hit him in her teeth.

He pulls his head through the hole in the doublet and makes eye contact with her. Zelda busies herself with folding and refolding the snowquill set over her arm. She can see him shifting in her peripheral, pulling off his pants, rummaging around the trunk for another pair and some boots that will protect him against the mountain. When he’s satisfied and set, he grabs the Master Sword and exits the loft wordlessly, gifting her privacy when he takes none for himself. She’s left to change and try to diffuse the electric current running across her skin.

Somehow, she does, only for it to return the second she comes down the main floor and he tells her they have to be touching in order for the Sheikah Slate to transport them both.

“What?” She tries to keep her voice steady. Link holds the Slate out, inspects the space between them, and then steps directly into her. They stand toe to toe, so close she can smell the pepper from the elixir on his breath. “You’ve- uh- you’ve done this before?”

He shakes his head and lifts his gaze to look at her through pale lashes. She can see specks in his eyes so blue it’s like something is always lit behind them. “It’s only meant for me, right?” he says. “It has to register you as part of me.”

“Oh,” Zelda would be fascinated if her stomach wasn’t knotted so tight. “Should I…?” She lifts her hands toward his chest, hesitating.

He nods. Zelda swallows. Come on, you walked into the mouth of ethereal darkness completely alone, you slayed the Great Calamity and purged all its malice from the realm, you can touch him. She wraps her arms around his middle and tucks her head into his shoulder. She feels him lift up onto his toes so he can see the Slate, hears him select the shrine, and then the world bleaches white.

It’s an incredibly awful feeling; to exist and then just not; to splinter into a million pieces of burning magic. At least when she was with the Calamity, her physical body remained, acting like an anchor inside the neverending storm of magic. If there is any doubt inside her about the validity of Link’s theory, about Sheikah Technology being powered by spirit energy, there isn’t now. With her soul is exposed and pulsing like a nerve, she can sense the entirety of the Sheikah Technology network - all the shrines, every guardian, the towers stretching up into the sky, the furnaces burning outside the Labs - all these things without a mouth suddenly have one, and they open wide and desperate, and begin to siphon energy from her.

She comes back to herself in pieces, and when there is enough for her to cling to him, she does, gasping Lanayru’s frigid air into her lungs. She immediately starts shivering violently– although it feels more from shock than from cold.

He leans back enough to see her face, his hands on her, smoothing hair back from her eyes. He opens his mouth, but his voice doesn’t quite leave his throat. She watches him give up on speech quickly, and instead, tilts his head with concern.

“D-does it feel that terrible to you?” She gasps.

Link nods. She can see all the color has completely drained from his face. His eyes are sunken, the glow in the speckles now dim, like he’s been wounded and is bleeding out.

She hates that she knows what that looks like.

“Every time?”

He’s still inspecting her. Maybe making sure all of her made it back. When he’s satisfied, he steps back and bends over to retrieve the Sheikah Slate which sits in the snow, several inches deep, at their feet. He must have dropped it when he reached for her face. Or it just fell when they reappeared. That’s more likely, she tells herself.

He nods again, and signs, ‘I didn’t try it again for a year after the first time.’

Zelda often thinks about why it took Link so long to enter the Sanctum. Initially, after he gained the paraglider and the Runes, he launched himself off the Great Plateau and made a beeline for the castle. Zelda watched him march through the ruins of their fallen kingdom, seemingly fearless and determined to reach her, until he walked into the nest of hostile guardian stalkers crawling over the bones of Castle Town. Calamity slipped out of her hands for a moment, and swirled into the sky to greet him, spewing a fountain of malice so high into the atmosphere it stained the moon. Link ran all the way to Blatchery Plain and didn’t step foot in Central Hyrule again for nearly two years.

Fear was a big part of it, but as Zelda watched him grow stronger, as memory started to return to him, she couldn’t help but feel like he was searching the Wild for something that could strip him of the destiny he could barely remember. Something that could sever the connection between them. She willed herself to give him grace, to smother the resentment that began to fester in every extra inch he put between himself and the castle. How could she damn him for running from fate when she herself resisted it as long as she could?

Those thoughts are even uglier now, having experienced what it was actually like to use the technology that waited ten thousand years for him. That was made for him.

“Link, you can’t do that more than once a day,” She wraps her arms around herself and shakes her head.

‘It’s what needs to be done,’ he signs.

“No,” Zelda steps forward. He doesn’t retreat, so they are close enough to touch again. She holds herself tighter to keep from reaching for him. “It’s not. I’m serious. We don’t need to do this so it's over in a year. We have time. We have help, now. ”

He looks at her for a long minute. His expression is painfully neutral at first, guarded, but then it softens and at the same time, life starts to bleed back into his cheeks. He reaches out and grips her shoulder, firm enough to register between the layers of Rito feathers; enough to reach the parts of her that feel lost and guilty and alone.

Link makes for the shrine. Zelda inhales and blinks the tears from her eyes, trying to hold onto the warmth he’s ignited inside her while his back is turned. The Spring invites her forward. She sets her jaw and glares at the eerily still water, unable to lift her eyes to the statue even though she can make out the reflection of the Goddess in the water.

Does she pray? Speaking of running from destiny and owing nothing. Is devotion all she has to offer? Is it all they expect of her? She can see Link at the shrine in the cave just beyond the Spring. There is a flash of bright light and then a slow creep of darkness as the shrine disappears. She’s squeezing herself so tight her arms begin to ache, fighting against the muscle memory of where her hands go when she’s standing in this spot.

No, she’ll never pray again, but the thing that was supposed to occupy her hands, the key to her new sense purpose, all of it will be gone in a year. It’s already gone from this place. All that is left is the statue and ice and waters that know her more than she seems to know herself.

The wind on Lanayru’s peak is as brutal as it was a century ago. It rips at her exposed skin, and she’s immediately grateful to be wearing more than she had the last time she climbed to the top. When she climbed to the top…

Something pulls at the back of her skull, a nagging tiny detail she’s suddenly aware she is missing. It’s enough to force her gaze up to the Goddess, who has her blank eyes fixed on Zelda, waiting, as unhelpful as ever.

Zelda can’t stop the question from pushing past her lips the second he’s within earshot.

“What’s the date?”

He pauses.

“Today’s date?” She repeats. “What is it?”

He tells her.

It’s her birthday.

The same day a hundred years ago she failed in this very spot and the Calamity emerged, bringing terror and death and the near end of the world. If he remembers, it doesn’t register on his face. He just looks cold and a little confused. No one else would remember the date, everyone it was significant to is dead.

‘What’s wrong?’ He sweeps his hands in front of her face to get her attention. She didn’t see him approach her through the swarm of her thoughts.

Above their heads, Naydra, a ribbon of ice, circles the mountain and lets out a groan.

“Nothing. It’s just I’m…I’m 18.” Zelda replies in a hollow tone. Even as she says it, it doesn't feel true. She can’t decide if she feels eighteen or a hundred and eighteen. It is just a date, and somehow, it’s the same as the moment he recommended they destroy the Sheikah Technology and Hyrule rallied, the instant she realized Purah has been circling Sheikah Towers on maps, when the shrine by his house disappeared into nothing before her eyes.

It’s time to move on.

Link was right. It is cold. Pillars of crystal blue ice curve into fingers that point down. Away from the Spring and prayers she will never say again, in the direction of a spot in the distance, maybe the same the Sheikah Eye looks to now, that Zelda can’t quite see, but everyone else seems to trust.

Snow begins to fall in sheets of white, a storm summoned by Naydra’s descent. It rapidly begins covering the path ahead. If she doesn’t move her feet soon, she risks becoming trapped. Frozen.

The fire his touch lit inside her goes out. She looks at him and the light behind his eyes. She’s so desperate for warmth and Purah said it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, anyway-

Zelda lunges forward into his arms, buries her face in the doublet she should be wearing, and lets out a sob that is swallowed by the wind.

—-

Three weeks after Link leaves for Eldin, a letter arrives in Hateno addressed to her.

Zelda stayed behind to focus on phase two of the restoration efforts. That has always been the plan, but when she watched Link disappear, face caged by the helm of his flamebreaker armor because he was teleporting right into the beating heart of Death Mountain to see the cooling lava for himself, she couldn’t help but feel regret she didn’t ask to go with him.

Purah put her to work immediately. There are a few moments that have felt good even without Link there, like when they helped Reede figure out how to update the irrigation system, meaning the village can plan to double their crops next year; or whenever Purah pulls her aside to get her thoughts on the Anti-Aging Rune.

It’s what needs to be done.

His words replay over and over again in her head. They keep her from doing selfish things, like looking over the proposal stuffed under her bed or cocooning herself away from the world in her tiny cot in Purah’s study. They have a kingdom to restore and jobs to be done; roles to define. Now is not the time to be self-serving. It is time to move forward. To let go of the past. Bury what she can’t destroy.

Zelda,

I’m hoping the letter survives the heat. When I’m close to the belly of the mountain, my arrows start smoking. Took your advice. There are only ten shrines in Eldin and no one seemed to notice I was a day behind schedule when I reached Goron City. I’m not saying I won’t use fast travel when I need to, but it feels easier to travel how I prefer after what you said. Thanks.

The bike helps. Did you know I have one? It is shaped like a horse. Climbs the rocky terrain around the mountain pretty good and I don’t feel guilty like I would if it was one of my own. The horse god would have my head. I’ve never asked her what she thinks about a Divine Beast in her liking.

Anyway, it’s the only thing I think I’ll miss about the Tech.

Will you write to me? I meant to ask before I left, but it never felt like the right time. Would give me something to look forward to.

Link

Zelda rereads the last sentence three times. Every inch of her is warm and buzzing. Her heart rabbits against her breast so hard she has to set down the letter and fold over herself, pulling air in through her nose until everything slows enough for her to form a coherent thought.

She has a response ready before the sun sets the same day.

Link,

I’m glad to hear you are taking care of yourself. Have you been able to rest, too? You said you were a day behind schedule, which means you still traveled dozens of miles of craggy terrain in record time. If you are looking to make a habit out of my taking my advice, please prioritize your rest.

I didn’t know about the bike. It was more challenging to watch over you toward the end and I’m assuming that’s when you received it. Did I ever tell you I did that? If these letters are meant to have a theme, I suppose I should share something, too, right?

I would be happy to write to you. I will be leaving for Tarrey Town in a month’s time. I’m not sure when this letter will reach you or when you’ll have time to respond, but I’m to meet with Hudson to hear the rough proposal for rebuilding efforts across Hyrule once the Sheikah Technology is gone.

Everything is moving so fast. I suppose it all feels fast to me now. It’s a good thing, right?

Zelda

His letter breathes new life into her final days in Hateno. She borrows an old shirt out of Link’s trunk, rolls up the sleeves, and volunteers to help Dantz and his sister Koyin build out the fence for more livestock. The learning curve is pretty steep, she’s never had so much dirt cakes under the fingernails, and although Koyin seems a little annoyed with her at the start, when Zelda shows up with the sun the following morning, ready to work, the tension dissipates by noon.

His next letter comes a week later.

Zelda,

I’m resting when I need to. I hope you are, too.

We never talked about that, but it makes my memories of that time feel less lonely now. Thank you.

Eldin has the least amount of shrines and guardians, so I’ll be heading east soon. I’ve got the cores.The Gorons plan to use most of the guardian metal in their restoration territories to reinforce the mines closer to the volcano since it withstands the heat well.

They are sending Vah Rudania into the fire tomorrow morning. It still feels as hot as hell up here, but they are convinced something is changing inside the mountain and want to get it over with. They will be splitting their aid between Central Hyrule and Akkala to help the Hylians once it's all said and done. Yubuno is leading the charge to Akkala. Say hi to him if you see him. He’s more useful than he gives himself credit for.

Hudson’s an interesting guy. Watch yourself – not like he’s dangerous or anything, but he’ll have you running errands for him if you aren’t careful. He’s good at selling what he’s invested in and nothing is more important to him than forward motion. Except maybe his wife, Rhondson. I think they had their baby girl right before the Summit. He was anxious about being away. Can’t remember the name.

If the building is up to Hudson, it’ll be in good hands.

It does feel fast, but at the end of it all, it's just another year. Important things take time.

Link

His penmanship is challenging. She can tell he’s either walking or riding while he writes by the blotches of ink and the aggressive slant in his writing which means either he’s lying about the rest, or he’s multitasking because of it.

They exchange several letters in the six months she spends in Tarrey Town. Hudson is passionate about what he’s good at, and she learns more about infrastructure and the philosophy of construction than she imagined possible. She watches him raise three new homes from nothing in the time she is there. Everyone in the village plays a part, down to the children who paint the stamps of the town’s symbol; a heart, which Hudson says is the most essential resource they have for the restoration ahead. It’s the kind of thing a real leader says. She’s learned better than to get ahead of herself, but the idea Hyrule could grow without her needing to take the throne, where she is bound to fail them again, if someone like Hudson guided them takes root.

She half-jokingly starts referring to him as President Hudson.

Zelda also spends time with his infant daughter, Mattison, whose tiny fingers and bright emerald eyes give Zelda enough strength to keep her teary eyes on the horizon when Purah announces she and Robbie have a plan for the Sheikah Towers– tear them down, too. They propose erecting brand new towers, called Skyview Towers, and they think they can power them entirely with sunlight. A formal prototype of the device to connect them all is also in the works: the Purah Pad.

Link makes it to Hebra. There are significantly more shrines and a graveyard of decaying guardians in the canyon that splits Rowan Plain and southern Tabantha. The Gorons he traveled with take most of the metal back to Death Mountain, so he goes up into the snowfields alone and takes out a white-maned lynel by the North Lomei Labyrinth. This is one of the regions their strategy must be followed closely, otherwise he risks getting stranded in a blizzard without shelter. He bounces back and forth between Rito Village and the shrines scattered across the mountain range over the course of several weeks. He sends her feathers, and braids of colored rope, and receipts from his stays at Swallows’s Roost and Snowfield stable. She sends him a cherry red Akkala forest leaf and an order from Hudson for a hundred and thirty six bundles of cedar.

Link sends back a twig.

He’s surprisingly witty, but by the time he’s reached Faron, his humor runs out. His letters grow taciturn, more reflective of how he is in person. He reports on cursory things like the weather and the lack of ingredients for a proper meal. The only glimpse into what he’s feeling comes with how he signs his last letter:

I never want to see another shrine again.

By her estimate, he’s still got at least three dozen shrines left between Central Hyrule, Necluda, and Akkala, so she avoids mentioning anything about them and instead, asks where his favorite place in Hyrule is, hoping to break up the droning routine of his days and coax something hopeful back out of him.

She doesn’t hear from him for six weeks.

Impa tells her to try not to worry, that he’s known for disappearing for much longer and now that he is known, someone is bound to recognize him and will send an update of whatever has sidetracked him in good time. The lack of urgency from the Sheikah makes her blood boil. Even Paya, who has been known to worry about too much dust and heirlooms, doesn’t seem all that concerned with Link’s whereabouts. It makes Zelda wish she was anywhere else; makes her long for a home she could run back to and slam the door. It’s not their fault the way the wind moves through the pass to Telta Lake reminds her of the sound he made when his last breath rattled past his lips, or the fact she’s barely slept because she’s watching the skies for a Blood Moon (there hasn’t been once since Calamity Ganon defeat). Even though she has no way to warn him properly, it's the only way she feels useful. Like visiting the Spring of Wisdom, or the pause that grips her everytime she passes the inlet to the Goddess statue in the center of Kakariko, or blaming Hylia, it’s another old habit from her old life that activates whenever she feels useless.

She’s about to write to Prince Sidon for help when the updates come in. All the shrines in East Necluda, including the one that sat on top of Eventide Island, are gone. Link was last seen riding a draft horse in the direction of Central Hyrule. Another report says he’s been seen near Lake Hylia, heading north toward the Great Plateau.

The letter arrives soon after.

I’m standing in the broken cathedral on the Great Plateau. I guess they call it a temple. It feels like it might have been holy once. Maybe it was the place where something significant happened, or something important was hidden, but if that is true, it's long gone. It's just the first of many empty, rusted places that have told me about myself since I woke up. This is the place where I learned ghosts could speak and I could hear them. It’s also where I first heard your name.

I followed the plan and came here after the Gerudo region was done. It took me half a day to clear all the shrines. Only the Shrine of Resurrection was left. I was going to paraglide off the northeast wall toward Lake Hylia and prepare for Faron. That’s my problem. I’m always ten steps ahead. Most of the time I have to be.

Zelda, I completely froze. I stood outside the Shrine for an afternoon that turned into another and then another, trying to pull myself together, screaming at my feet to just move, but I couldn’t do it. It feels like the Shrine knows I’m here. Like it’s waiting for me to step back inside. The more and more I stare at this stupid cave, the more I see a mouth that will close the moment I’m inside.

So I left, took care of Faron, came back, left again and went to Necluda.

You want to know where my favorite place in Hyrule is? There is a spring on top of a waterfall north of Lake Floria. It's where I first saw Farosh. Came right out of the water and climbed up into the sky above my head. Nearly scared me to death. I can’t really explain it well, but it's where I realized I wanted to actually be here. Ruins and wild and all. It's where I realized I wanted to be the one to save Hyrule. To save you.

I followed Farosh back to the plateau this time. I took one of her scales for courage. Imagine that. I know what I have to do. Just like I did back then, even when I was running and telling myself they had the wrong guy, or if I made them wait long enough, they would find someone else.

It’s just, sometimes it feels like this destiny asks too much, you know?

I know what I have to do. And I will. As selfish as it sounds, I just wish you were still with me.

Link

She wipes her mouth. As much as her fingers shake with it, as badly as she wants to pour her heart into a reply – because she knows exactly what he’s saying when he talks about destiny and feeling selfish and needing courage– the letter feels like a plea–

A prayer.

She shivers like she did on Lanayru. There is gold on her tongue, the taste of pure sunlight and falling stars. Why is it only in moments when he’s suffering can she summon this Power? She pushes the words as they form in her head across all the miles between them, trying to imagine them soaring like birds to where he waits. She tries to imagine them reaching for him and his head turning to the sound–

But there is no way for her to see him now. She’s not confident the magic is even really there, so when the buzz leaves her fingertips and she can actually grip a pen, she sends those words in a letter, too.

Link,

Come to Kakariko. I’ll go with you. I’m always with you.

You don’t have to do this alone.

Zelda

end notes- This fic is set in the same story as like someone would” You don’t have to read it, but it might add a little extra context to this chapter in particular, especially since that fic is Link’s POV.

#totk spoilers #totk #totk fanfiction #totk fanfic #totk zelink #botw zelink #botw #breath of the wild #loz #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #loz totk #zelinkweek2023 #zelinkcommunity #bahbahhhart #bahbahhhwrites #begin again

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badpancakelol · 1 year

Text

They finally have a true and proper heart to heart. It’s completed with sitting down in Wayne’s new apartment, Eddie bringing over cookies that Steve had made. It kind of makes him feel like they’re the two little old women who used to live in the trailer across from them — bickering and bitching about anything and everything over a cup of tea. But they have the heart to heart, because things have finally settled, and for once, they have time.

He didn’t really know where to start. Eddie doesn’t really know when Wayne had started slipping out of his life, or when Eddie had started pulling away, but he knows that it definitely started way before everything that happened with Vecna. Maybe it started when he fell off his bike, when his mother didn’t show.

(“How am I even meant to start?” Eddie asks Steve, watches as he shapes the little handfuls of cookie dough on the tray. “There’s just— so much.”

Steve hums, and stops his hands for a second, wipes them down on his apron. “Well, you know I like lists,” He points in the vague direction of where their first sticky note has been framed on the mantle. “They help me look at things from a different point of view. Make things that seem overwhelming and suffocating into something smaller. More manageable.”

He turns back to the cookies after giving Eddie a small smile. Eddie thinks he likes this domestic aspect of their relationship. Where they can now stay at home on days that are too cold or too hot, and not have to worry about the things that they used to. Now, it’s just them, living and breathing within each other’s space.

“Help me?” Eddie asks.

“Always.” Steve answers).

And so, they had made a list. It had rationalised it in Eddie’s mind, had let him make headings and subheadings, how to move from one subject to the other, how to prepare himself and what he wanted to say.

The Upside Down.

Steve.

Eddie’s mum.

It’s not a long list, but it still feels daunting. They should be easy, quick, enough to talk about, and yet. Steve had said that’s how he felt when he was trying to fix things. Making a list that only held three or four items — items that by themselves would be fine, that combined, made his teeth hurt in a way that spelt trouble.

Eddie knows that he’s probably not supposed to tell Wayne about the Upside Down, what with the letters and legal notes that he had to sign, but when he had admitted it to Steve, had said that it hurt to keep it a secret, Steve had just held his hand, had said if you trust him, as if it were even a question.

“You know that story that went around about the serial killer, and Steve and I—”

“The one that was very obviously a cover story?” Wayne snorts, takes a sip from his mug. This time, it’s one that Steve had made at one of the pottery classes out of town. It’s smooth to the touch, with a green glaze along the edges, ants and frogs and spiders in a cute-simple style littered across it. Wayne will never admit it, not to his face, but it’s his favourite.

“Yeah.” Eddie says. He knew that people didn’t really believe it (as someone who didn’t really buy it, himself), but hearing Wayne say that it was so obviously fake, and to know that he never questioned Eddie about it? Well. It’s definitely something to process.

“So, you’re ready to tell me about,” He waves his hand in a roundabout movement. “Whatever happened to you two?”

He pauses. Tries to think of a way to delicately say, I fought monsters, and monsters killed those teenagers, and my boyfriend can bend time. But there isn’t one. There isn’t a manual that dictates how to approach any of those topics. So Eddie does what he does best, and pulls the bandaid off as fast as he can.

“Monsters.” Eddie spits. “And time travel?”

“Kid, please tell me you’re pulling my leg.”

“Not joking. At all.”

And then, the gates are open. Eddie talks about his point of view — hearing the sounds of the monsters every year but not really understanding the gravity of the situation. He talks about Chrissy coming over to buy, and how she had stood still, and how she had floated. Skips over the details, because, while he’s getting better at not feeling sick about it, not feeling guilty about it, he doesn’t think she should be remembered that way.

He talks about running. Hiding. How the group had found him, how he had been chased by Jason, how he had seen Patrick die. Wayne keeps his gaze the entire time, but he doesn’t interrupt or say anything, because Eddie is still really only at the start of his story, at the start of it all. So he keeps going. Max, the kids, the gate. Lover’s Lake, Steve’s change in demeanour, Vecna, the battle, the monsters.

“So that’s why they moved us out? Set us up in this place?” Wayne asks, nods his head to his side, to the apartment walls.

“Because of one of the gates, yeah.” Eddie says, feels his leg bouncing up and down. Wayne holds onto himself like a man lost, and Eddie supposes that he is, right now.

“But you two are — you’re safe, now?”

“Yes.” Eddie replies. Realises that he means it. “We’re still — working through it. There were a few things that we figured out, after everything had happened. You’ve seen some of Steve’s scars, so. I’m sure you know.”

Wayne nods, and his eyes look misty. “You boys are happy, though. I can see it whenever you talk about him, or whenever he talks about you. It’s— I’m happy for you, Ed. Proud of you. I know I never said it when you was young, but. I’ve never been anything but proud of you.”

“Don’t make me cry just yet,” Eddie jokes, brings his sleeves over his hands to wipe at the corners of his eyes. “We, uh, Steve helped me make a list. ‘Cause, you know how I called to have a heart to heart, and then I wouldn’t say what about, because there’s kind of— a lot. Like, a lot, a lot.”

He nods, and he smiles, and there is a fondness in Wayne’s eyes when Eddie mentions Steve.

“I don’t think I ever officially said it, but, well. You know about us already.”

Wayne nods, but says: “If you want to say it, you can. I won’t take that away from you.”

Eddie breathes in. He knows that Wayne won’t act any different, won’t look at him weird or say anything that would hurt. Wayne went to their housewarming, and had seen the way they looked at each other, held hands. They had dinners over at Wayne’s place every couple of weeks, and Steve would greet him with a warm hug. There is love between the three of them, and it makes Eddie wonder why he never really, truly, told Wayne about Steve.

“We’re dating. I love him.”

Wayne nods, and he smiles, and he had said it before, Eddie had heard him say it not only a few moment ago, but now he can see it in his uncle’s eyes: the pride.

“He’s a good kid — Steve. Now, you better treat each other right, because I do care about the both of you, and I don’t want to see anyone getting hurt.” He breathes out and reaches towards the platter of cookies between them, now, almost gone. “And ask him to make more of these, will you?”

Eddie smiles and says yes, sir, because he knows that Wayne hates being called sir. He makes a face at the title, and then Eddie smiles like he’s been caught doing something bad, and Wayne just remarks making me feel ancient, over here. And nothing changes.

The tea has gone lukewarm, but Eddie still holds the mug between his hands, just so that he can grab onto something. Because those were the easy ones. Because Wayne hadn’t been a part of them.

“Um, and I wanted to talk about my mum.”

Wayne’s smile pauses, and Eddie can see the way that it crumbles from his position on the couch. In his mind, he’s already trying to find a way to backtrack, and smooth the conversation over, try and point it back towards Steve, and how that seemed to make Wayne happy, and how they’re going good, and how much he loves him, instead of—

“What about her?”

“Why did she—” He tilts his head, and moves his hands, and makes a small noise to try and convey everything and nothing that she had given him. That she had done to him.

Wayne simmers down, and he folds in on himself in a way that Eddie has seen before on Steve. Trying to make himself smaller, trying to make himself seem less imposing, or terrifying, looking for comfort and forgiveness. Forgiveness for what? He hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I don’t know.” Wayne says, quiet. “I tried to talk to her about everything, when it happened the first time. But she would never listen. I know I wasn’t the best growing up, and I’m sorry, Eddie. Sorry that I couldn’t just— make her go away. That I just let her keep coming back and raising your hopes up, only for to— to leave.”

None of it is his fault, though. Or, maybe it was, but Eddie doesn’t see it that way. Wayne wasn’t the one to leave, Wayne wasn’t the one to break promises, Wayne wasn’t the one to tell him to be quiet, and pretend to love him, and then never return a call, and then love-bomb him the next time they met. That was on her. Not Wayne.

“That’s not your fault—”

“Eddie—”

“—And even if it was, I’m not going to— to blame you for it! We were in a shit situation, and there was so much stuff going on, even before the monsters, and the night shifts, and I know I wasn’t an easy kid to take care of—”

“You were wonderful, Ed, I couldn’t have asked for a kid so kind—”

“—but there was nothing you could have done to make me feel more loved!” Eddie breathed. The noiselessness of the apartment seemed so loud, now. Wayne sits across from him, leaned forward on the couch, hands by his sides. He wipes at his eyes with the edge of his sleeve, and he looks Wayne in the eye, because he needs him to know.

He needed Wayne to understand that there was no one else that he would have wanted, no one else he would have loved as much. He went above and beyond in every possible way, even when Eddie was making it difficult, even when he was being difficult to love, Wayne had still done it. Wayne had still loved him.

“You were there.” Eddie whispered. “Every day. Even when I was acting like an asshole, and taking out my anger for her on you, or when I kept fucking everything up. You were there.”

Wayne stood from the couch, crossed to where Eddie was sitting. He knew it was coming before the arms had even wrapped around him, and yet when it happened, when he felt how warm Wayne was, how soft and firm and comforting his hold was, he let his tears run. Eddie closed his eyes as tight as he possibly could, and he tried to imbed his hands into the back of Wayne’s shirt. And when Eddie had felt that noise make it’s way up his throat — loud and ugly and so very human, he let it.

-- -- --

one of the sections from my epilogue, and finale of my steddie series!!!

#steve harrinton #steve x eddie #steveddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things 4 #stranger thing #stranger things #ao3 #ao3fic #wayne munson #wayne content for the girlies <3

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after-witch · 2 years

Text

Energy Loss [Yandere Vash the Stampede x Reader]

Title: Energy Loss [Yandere Vash the Stampede x Reader]

Synopsis: You’re traveling with Vash the Stampede, but a life on the run--a life in hiding--starts to wear too thin on you.

Word count: 4543

notes: yandere, obsessive and possessive behavior, drugging, dubcon NSFW implications (non-graphic); mentions of sexual harassment

It's not the nicest hotel in the city--not by a long shot. But when you're traveling with Vash (that is, Vash the Stampede--to say nothing of his more colorful nicknames) it's not always easy to come by money. Especially without a proper job.

Which is exactly why you've scrubbed yourself up this morning and dressed in what amounts to your best clothing: to apply for a job. At least a temporary one, while you and Vash decide whether or not to stay in this town or head our further West. You’ve yet to tell Vash that you would like to stay, would like to make a home here--but that can wait until after you’ve secured a job in the area.

As you're fixing your hair, Vash pops his head into the bathroom, toothbrush from dangling from his lips. "What're you so dressed up for?" He asks, smiling, words a bit garbled from the stick in his mouth.

You adjust the collar of your shirt and turn your head this-way-and-that, giving yourself a last lookover. Your carefully cleaned and filed fingernail taps on the counter, before you pick up the newspaper and toss it at him. He catches it easily and his eyes are drawn to the area that you circled the other day.

"Help wanted: library; part time, cash up front." His words trail off, but you're too busy focusing on last minute adjustments to your outfit to pay much attention.

"I heard that they got a huge shipment of books in from one of the Earth ships that's been bringing supplies. Lots of how-to manuals for technology, stuff like that. Plus novels." You give yourself a thin smile of approval before turning around, breezing past Vash and giving a twirl in the wider bedroom to show off your outfit.

"I've always liked books, so why not? Plus I can bring us in some real money so we don't get kicked out of the hotel... again," you add, the tiniest bit of bitterness seeping into your good-humored jab.

Vash's smile is instant and apologetic. "It was just the one time! I swear, I thought we had more left." He sets the paper down and takes you into his arms, an easy gesture, now that you're passed the stage of pretending that you two are simply friends. "Your intervene is today? What time? Where's the library at?"

You return his smile with some nervous laughter. "Geez, what's with the third degree? Are you writing a report on me? Maybe my mugshot will be up there next to yours soon." But you tell him, because why wouldn't you? And after nibbling on breakfast you wave and head out the door--with effort, as Vash insists he comes with you at first, refusing to take no for an answer until you have to get serious and snippy--and try to mentally prepare yourself for the interview.

Sure, you don't have any experience working in a library. But running your family's bakery after their deaths was no easy feat, especially considering you weren't exactly in the best head space afterwards. Witnessing murders during a robbery-gone-wrong will do that to you... but with help, with Vash's help mostly, you've picked up the pieces of your life and started fresh.

But even starting fresh has its limits, and you won't deny that getting this job isn't just about staying in the hotel--it's about staying in this town, perhaps for good. Roots might do you good--might do you both good.

The hot air whipping past your hair does little to calm your frayed, overstimulated nerves.

You didn’t even get to finish the interview. In the middle of it, while you were being asked how well you could understand classification systems, screams resonated throughout the building--screams and gunshots and noises that you were all too familiar with; every hair on your body stood on end as you and the woman doing the interview ducked under the desk.

The door burst open and someone with a gun stood in the doorway, sweaty and grisly and bulky, with flicks of blood across his face. He took one look at you and grinned, and you knew it, this was it and--with a bang, the man screamed and crumpled to the floor, clutching his leg. In moments Vash was there, tackling him, winding a rope around his bleeding legs and arms; a hogtie, rendering the man helpless. And rendering you safe.

The car bounces into a hole in the dusty road and the jolt takes you out of your memories.

Of course, you two had to run. Someone had recognized Vash from a wanted poster, followed you to the library, and planned on using you as bait to get to him. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you pray it’s the last.

Another long drive. Another search for a place that you two can live without being recognized. It’s hard, with Earth technology seeping into the planet’s social structure more and more; and boy, is it easier for people to recognize Vash from videos than from the crude Wanted Posters from before.

But the knowledge that it’s not Vash’s fault people recognize him doesn’t make it easier to give up another life you’d started to create.

“Vash?” You ask. He’s driving, staring ahead, face calm and lost in thought.

“Hm?”

“I… wish we didn’t have to go from town to town as much, you know?”

He glances at you, face suddenly sparked with concern. “What do you mean?”

“I liked that town,” you continue. “I thought maybe if I got that job… we could get an apartment or something, instead of the hotel. Start a life. Plant down roots.” You grin softly, bittersweet. “No pun intended.”

But Vash doesn’t return your grin. Instead his look hardens into something more thoughtful, something he rarely lets you see willingly.

“You okay?” You ask. “I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s not you,” he says, gently, correcting your notion. “It’s… I’m thinking about other people. Not most people,” he says, no doubt thinking of the many people he’s made connections with over his many years. “But the ones who want to hurt me. Who want to hurt you.” He take one hand off the wheel, running it through his blackened hair. “I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”

Traveling with Vash the Stampede is not easy. You can still remember the first day you met him, exhausted and injured and collapsed in the first floor of your family’s bakery. You tended to his wounds--nursing, that used to be your job, before you had to keep the family business running--and before you realized it, you had built a friendship with the infamous Vash the Stampede.

He’d told you things, too, things you doubted most people knew. About a woman named Rem. About his brother. About his brother’s death and last sacrifice. But it was with that knowledge of who he was and what he’d done and what he was running from that you made the decision to travel with him. You knew what you were getting into, and it was no ordinary life.

Which is why, for now, you give him a soft smile and nod instead of complaining about your latest dash from civilization.

This place never had a Plant, and still doesn’t. But that was no longer a guarantee of poverty and hardship, thanks to the Earth teams working to improve the planet for human habitation, at least until the humans on Earth decide what to do with humans on Gunsmoke. The Earth teams had dug a well to previously unknown water sources underground and set up a plumbing system throughout the small settlement. Nothing fancy, but enough to keep people alive.

Which is all you and Vash can hope for when you rent a dingy room in the sole building in town that has them available. No widespread electricity here yet, but you’re given candles which give the room a soft glow as you the pair of you change into your night clothes.

Vash always undresses in the bathroom, no exceptions. You don’t know why. You’ve seen his body before, seen the scars and wounds and modifications that kept him from bleeding out every time he got shot and cut and injured saving others. But something about the act of undressing made him exceedingly shy, and he refused to let you see him taking his clothes off. Even when he knows that as soon as he’s dressed again, he’s crawling into the bed with you.

“Vash?” You ask, wanting to return to your conversation from earlier.

“Hm?” He calls out from the bathroom, and you can hear him thumping, hopping on one foot as he takes off his trousers.

“How long are we going to do this?”

In a few moments, he reenters the bedroom, night shirt on. “Do what?”

You gaze out the window into the darkness. All you can see is the reflection of the candle set on the dresser next to the bed.

“Running. Going from place to place. I’m--” you struggle to find words, your carefully practiced speech in your head fizzling away as soon as you voiced your thoughts. “I’m tired of being on the run all the time. I know--” You stare down at your legs, gripping the material of your pajama pants as memories flood to the surface. “I know I wanted to leave Greenacre after my family was killed. I know that. But that doesn’t mean I want to be running forever. I need… roots, you know?”

When you get the courage to look up, Vash’s face looks almost stricken in the candle light. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and there’s an ache in your chest when you worry that you’ve hurt his feelings somehow. Then, he pulls back the covers on his side of the bed and gets in. The warmth is familiar and comforting.

“I know,” he says finally. “Don’t worry. I’ll… find us a great place that we can call home.”

You don’t know how he does it, but after digging through endless maps to find a new destination, he finds the perfect place. And the perfect apartment. It’s nothing fancy, but you immediately take a liking to it. It’s a big city, big enough that you’re both lost within it; no nosy small town neighbors who take a great interest into every new person that steps a foot within the town limits. It helps that you convinced Vash to grow out his hair again. And even with the meager salary you’re earning at a 24-hour hole in the wall diner, you’ve managed to collect an array of hats that make him just another face in the city grind.

No one cares who he is, and you think that you can finally call this place home. And if Vash is a little clingy every time you come home from a shift, if he starts getting antsy anytime he sees you talking to someone in the halls, you can’t really blame him. He doesn’t go out as much as you do--can’t risk getting recognized, with your roots on the line--and it’s bound to make anyone stir-crazy.

Which is what first comes to your mind on this night before your first-ever midnight shift. He’s just a little stir-crazy.

“I’m serious, (Y/N). Don’t go.”

You button up your work shirt and resist the urge to roll your eyes. He’s sitting on the edge of your shared bed, hands clasped together, looking pitiful.

“Please. I’ll get a job so you don’t have to take these shifts. Anything you want. Just don’t go there tonight. It’s not safe. Stay with me.”

You turn to face him and try to look amused rather than annoyed, but the increasing patronization on Vash’s end lately has started to get to you, like needle pricks that get sharper and sharper. You’re an adult. You know how to take care of yourself. Why can’t he see that?

“We need the extra money. Besides,” you grin, poking Vash in the rib--playful, jovial, hoping to get a smile out of him. It doesn’t work. “All the best characters come out at night.”

He buries his face in his hands and all you can do is give him a stiff hug and promise you’ll be careful. When you glance back as you shut the door, he hasn’t moved, and you make a mental note to make sure that he starts getting out of the house more. New friends would do him good.

Your shift is uneventful. Drunks. Late shift workers. Someone with a baby that wouldn’t sleep. It’s over before you know it, and you walk home in the early morning hours, passing by people just getting up for their own jobs. The apartment building is starting to bustle with the sounds of early morning routines, and it’s oddly comforting after spending your night working in the quiet din of the diner.

The apartment is silent as you slide your keys into the lock; but before you can push it open, it’s yanked open with a ferocity by the darkened figure standing behind it. Your hand goes instinctively to your waist, to the little pistol you keep there, when the voice calls out:

“You’re home! Quick, get inside!”

It’s Vash--of course it is, who else would it be?--and you’re left practically squeaking in confusion as he pulls you by your arm inside the apartment. The door is shut and locked in record time, and as soon as he turns around you can tell that he hasn’t slept all night. Dark circles ring his eyes, and his gestures are shaky and anxious as he runs his hands down your arms.

“Are you okay? Did you miss me? Did anyone bother you at the diner? Did you talk to anyone? Wait--did you check if someone followed you home?”

The barrage of questions leaves you reeling.

“What? No, I--everything’s fine. Wait, why would someone be following me home?” Worry seeps through your tone but Vash’s response does nothing to soothe it.

He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends as he begins to pace, speaking so rapidly that you have to force yourself to focus intently in order to hear every word.

“It’s my fault--it’s all my fault. I think someone might have recognized me. Maybe they’ll target you again. They probably know you work at the diner. I--I’m sorry, we should pack our things and get out of here as soon as we can.”

The keys in your hand drop to the floor in a twisted, jingling heap.

You can’t. You just can’t do this again.

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and your body sways a bit before you stumble to the bed, sitting down on the plush mattress with a heavy sigh. It’s too much. Too much running. Too much change. Too much Vash, clinging to you in every way possible.

He’s at your side in an instant, his arm around your shoulder, pressing, trying to comfort you. But his familiar warmth and the feeling of his hand rubbing down your back does nothing to ease your feelings.

“Vash, I think--” You can’t bear to look at him when you say it. You can hardly bring yourself to voice the words. “I think we should… live separately for a while.” You close your eyes and push out the rest, afraid of seeing what your words might do to him. “I like it here. I really like it here. I don’t want to leave. So if we get separate apartments, just for a while, we can throw off--whoever this is. We can throw off their scent long enough to save up for another place in the city.”

You expect him to look anxious when you open your eyes, but instead his face seems… soft. Resigned. Calm. A far cry from the anxious energy he was exuding only moments before. It’s both relieving and a little frightening, a mood shift that’s leaving your tired mind reeling.

“I know,” he whispers, voice tinged with remorse, and it’s like you can feel the weight of more than one-hundred years in his tone. Heavy and old. “I’ll… start looking for a new place tomorrow, after your shift. Okay?”

You nod, relieved that he didn’t try to dissuade you but more relieved that he didn’t appear upset at your suggestion, and cuddle into his arms. You try to push down the sense of unease that came with his shift in moods. You’re too tired to deal with it now, anyway.

“You’re safe here, you know that?” You don’t respond to his words, only mumble sleepily as he continues to rub your back, your arms, clinging to you as if to comfort himself. Your eyes slide shut and you accept the fact that you’ll probably just fall asleep while he holds you.

“You’re always safe in my arms.”

You’re so tired that you pay no attention to the feel of Vash reaching over to open the drawer of the bedside cabinet and plucking something out. A book, maybe, or a snack. You barely feel the prick of the needle slide into your skin; the sudden sensation of stinging in your veins makes your eyes jolt awake, but they’re no match for the sedative and they slide closed again just as quickly.

The last thing you hear is Vash’s voice in your ear, muffled by his lips pressed against your hair, whispering over and over: “I’m sorry, I have to do this. I’m sorry.”

You’re asleep in no time.

When you wake up, your immediate thought is: Fuck. A hangover.

And then you remember Vash and the needle and the pain, and your body heaves itself out of bed with a fearful hurry. But even with your vision still blurring, with your body feeling weak and a headache screaming inside your skull, you know this: you’re not at the apartment.

Where are you?

You press your hands against your eyes and wait until the world stops spinning. Your vision returns and you look around to take stock of the situation.

You’re in a bedroom. Vash was holding you after you suggested that you split up for a bit. Then he… put something in you. Drugs? Something to make you sleep long enough to bring you here, wherever here happens to be.

As if on cue, Vash enters the bedroom with a breakfast tray in his hands. A cup of steaming coffee and a plate with bread and some sort of fruit sits on top.

You can’t run around him, so instead you bring your knees up to your chest and back yourself against the headboard as much as possible. Your mind feels blank and full all at the same time, emotions and adrenaline rushing through you so strongly that it’s hard to focus.

“Hey, hey,” Vash says, almost cooing. He sets the tray down on the end of the bed and holds up his hands. You’re reminded of the way your father used to try to calm down Tomas that had become too wild. “Calm down.”

You’re smart. You know that if you scream, if you lose your head, you won’t be getting out of this. So you relax your tense muscles and bring your hands to your lap rather than clasped across your knees.

“Vash--” Your throat is dry and your voice is croaky. He immediately jumps up and grabs a glass of water he’d set on the nightstand earlier. You take it with fingers that feel numb from fear and gulp it down, easing the ache in your throat.

“Vash…” you continue. “What’s going on? Where are we?” Why--why did you bring me here?” You try to keep your voice steady. Maybe this was all a big misunderstanding. It has to be, doesn’t it? This is Vash, after all. Vash, who let you nurse him back to health; who told you all his secrets; who took you on an adventure of a lifetime.

He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Would he?

He scoots closer on the bed, and you fight your body’s instinct to flinch away. You try to read the expression in his eyes and all you can come up with is that he feels nervous. But it’s a different sort of nervousness than you’ve seen before; as if he has to do something he doesn’t want to do, and simply wants to get it over with as quickly as possible.

“(Y/N), I need you to know something.” He looks at you for a response and you nod, showing him that you’re listening. “I would never hurt you. I--” he looks down and fiddles with the end of the breakfast plate. “I had a feeling that you were going to try to leave me, so… I got something from a friend. In case I needed to take you somewhere safe.”

He looks up and sees the sense of betrayal and hurt in your eyes and immediately grabs your hands. Only it’s hard to feel comforted by his firm grip when you realize that he just admitted to drugging you and taking you to some unknown destination.

You try to pull away but his grip is too firm. He’s not hurting you, but he’s not letting you go, either.

“I don’t understand, Vash. Why are you doing this? Let’s, let’s just go back to the city, okay? We can still live together.” You don’t know if you could, anymore, not after this. But he doesn’t need to know that.

He smiles and it’s such a sad smile that you can’t help the ache that forms in your chest. When he shakes his head, you realize that he won’t be listening to reason anytime soon.

“We are living together. Here. Where I can keep an eye on you. Where you won’t have to worry about a job or money or anything like that. No one can hurt you here. No one’s going to recognize me and try to hurt you ever again.”

Your hands are released and you set them back in your lap. It takes everything you have not to raise your voice as you look him in the eyes, mentally begging him to listen to what you’re saying.

“Vash. Listen to me.” He nods, and he pats your hand, and he’s listening--sure. “This isn’t right. I don’t want to be here. I want to go back to the city and our apartment. I don’t even know where we are right now.” With the last words, your voice starts to tremble, and your mind fights not to break down.

Vash’s arms are around you immediately, and your body flinches with anxiety as you remember the last time he held you like this. But there’s no needle prick, only his arms around you, squeezing; only his voice, shushing you softly.

“It’s okay,” he tells you. “We’re somewhere safe. The safest place in the world, really, because no one else is here! An abandoned town that’s so far out, no one will ever bother with it again. I fixed it up for us…” His tone drops a bit and your stomach falls with it. “Had to use some energy, but it’s okay. I just used enough to make sure we’ll have food and water for as long as we need it.”

The realization that he’d used some of his precious energy--and who knows how much of it he had left?--makes your breath hitch.

“Vash.” You draw back, and he lets you, taking in your concerned expression. “You’re not--you shouldn’t do that. You could…” You don’t say the final words, but the image he painted of his brother, the story of how Knives used the last of his energy to create an apple tree, shoots through both of you.

At your concern, Vash’s thumbs stroke your cheeks.

“Don’t worry. I won’t do it again. Just this once, for you. I’d do anything for you, (Y/N). I mean it.”

His strokes continue downward, onto your neck, onto your shoulder blades; and you’re suddenly keenly aware of the fact that Vash had changed you into your night clothes at some point during your forced sleep.

“Vash--” you start, but your words are broken when he kisses you on the lips. It’s not deep, but soft, gentle, and he pulls back so quickly that your lips barely feel the ghost of his touch. You don’t know what to say, or how to say anything. It’s all so confusing.

He… kidnapped you, didn’t he? Isn’t that was this is? But he’s your friend, and maybe there was a kernel of truth to it all. Maybe people did recognize him again--who wouldn’t, with his face and name and deeds plastered on every wall--and he was just trying to keep you from getting hurt. But couldn’t he talk to you instead of forcing this on you? Couldn’t he just ask you about it? A keening sense of betrayal rings in your head, interrupted only when he speaks again.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” he pleads. And you can’t help but feel a familiar tugging at your heart. He’s been through so much. You’ve been through so much, alone and together.

That’s why you don’t move when his hands reach for the straps of your nightgown. That’s why you don’t move when he leans in against your neck and inhales. The gestures are familiar yet foreign, recognizable acts from someone whose recent actions have left you ripped open.

He presses a kiss into your neck, lips warm against your pulse. “Think of the good things. No more sleazy jerks at the diner…” Another kiss. “No more people stopping you in the halls, asking for favors, like you’re their personal nurse.” Another. “Just you and me, always. Always.”

Your body responds as it always has to his touch, to his voice and to his closeness. Your mind is so confused and foggy, you don’t know if you should fight, if you want to fight him. You’ve been with him before, an intimacy long established. But this was different. This was not Vash and you giggling underneath the sheets, romping before you took a shower and headed to work. This was not Vash cuddling with you afterwards and making jokes.

This was Vash with his hands on you, possessive and all-knowing. This was Vash with a sharper look in his eyes, one that was focused and filled with such strong attraction that it made your stomach flip.

When you don’t struggle against him, when you don’t push him away, he slides the straps of your nightclothes down. His next words make goosebumps run up your arms.

“I’ll make every inch of your body know that you belong to me, and me only.”

His lips press against your collarbone, and you finally let the tension go out of your back, resting against the soft pillow behind your head.

You don’t know why you’re not fighting. Why you’re not screaming at him. Why you’re leaning back and letting out a pleased sigh when his kisses trail further down.

You just know that you’re here with Vash and you don’t know what the future holds anymore.

#yandere trigun #yandere vash the stampede #yandere vash #vash x reader #afterwitch writes #yandere

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your-space-brain · 8 months

Text

Narcan Dreams

Juan Carlos “Juice” Ortiz x Reader - One Shot

Gif does not belong to me.

Moved from @spacedbrainnn .

“I’m fine.” He would say.

“It just takes the edge off.”

“I’m not even doing that much.”

“It’s just a downer.”

“I’m not high.”

“Why are you asking so many questions?”

“What do you care?”

“It’s not even a drug.”

There were so many questions you’d ask and he would always have an answer. He always did. He was hidden behind brown eyes and a drug that suppressed the system that got nervous. It didn’t excite anything but the script was controlling his marionette strings.

Oxycontin.

He was becoming more and more apparent with it, and he knew that, but he needed it. He desired it, to the point he couldn’t control his eyes. They would get heavy and his mind would feel like it was crawling down his spinal cord. He was becoming too evolved in it.

Then, you found him.

He was laying there on the ground, his mouth open and he was hardly breathing. The sight alone, him there like a wax figure that had fallen over, sent a chill over you that felt like you were plunged into a dreadful ice bath.

“Shit.” The word fell out of your mouth as you collapsed on your knees beside him. His face was clammy and sweaty in your hands. Patting his cheek, you said his name.

“Juice.” It didn’t seem to do anything, so you popped him a bit harder as he didn’t have a response. Cradling his face, his body was dead weight, his head rolling in your hands before you saw the foam forming at the corner of his lips.

“Fuck, Juice. I told you to stop messing with this shit.” The words were to yourself to keep your mind from hitting fifth gear in manual overdrive. When you began to dig in your bag, your hands were shaking.

“Where is it? I know it’s in here.” Things shuffled around noisily but it didn’t matter. None of it did. None of the things in that bag were what you were looking for until you found it.

Narcan.

Popping the cap off, you shoved the nasal spray into his nostril and popped the plunger all the way in. The mist travelled his nose to his brain and hit the capillaries and nerves of his cerebral overdose. Then, like he was never down, his body jerked and his eyes opened.

“What’s happening?”

“Shut up.” You snapped as you tossed the vial away.

“What?”

“I said, shut up.” You repeated as you sighed. His brows knitted as if he didn’t know he just nearly ended his own life, and when you hauled him up by the leather that was almost desperately attached to his body, he nearly choked.

“Do you understand that you could’ve just died?” He swallowed when you got nose to nose with him, your breathing slightly labored because you were at your whit’s end. If you weren’t holding his cut, you’d have been trembling.

“Died, Juice. Dead. Gone. Without me. You’d leave me here with these fuckers." The realization made his brows lower as he sighed, his breath so dangerously close to your mouth as you sighed yourself.

“I can’t lose you, idiot. You’re a fucking idiot.” The verbal abuse spewed from your mouth out of fondness. You didn’t care.

“I need you. Do you not get that? I’ve questioned you for a reason—”

“[First name], breathe—”

“No.” The tears began to form. “Dammit!” You let him go to push them from your eyes, cussing more at yourself than at him.

“[First name]—”

“Dammit, Juice.”

“I’ll… I’ll work on stopping. I can’t see you like this.” He spoke honestly as he took you by the shirt this time, pulling himself up to stare you in the eyes with his large brown ones. “I promise.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

— end —

#juan carlos ortiz #Theo Rossi #juice ortiz #juice x reader #sons of anarchy imagines #sons of anarchy one shots #your space brain

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motsimages · 1 year

Text

Being a linguist in DS9 must be the dream job for linguists in Starfleet, in other domains of the Federation and outside of the Federation.

Universities all around probably are looking to establish a Linguistic and Cultural Exchange and Study Center in DS9 with long-term missions there to work on databases and improving interplanetary cultural backgrounds.

There are linguists from many planets working in AI so that the computer can deduce how languages that we've never encountered work. There are linguists working in a more traditional way on specialized glossaries, asking people around, recording sounds, writing things down, asking for books, newspapers, children's letters... There are translators asking people to turn off their translator so that they can practice the language with natives, turning it on again to see how the computer translated the same sentence, making notes on it, improving it later. One of them is really passionate about Ferengi culture and put some extra attention in translating Ferengi children's books which is why we got "Acquire, Brak! Acquire!" to sound like that in English, keeping the alliteration.

There are cultural mediators writing manuals for Starfleet command, for ambassadors, travelers and captain frighters so that they know what to take into account when dealing with people from x planet or y planet or how to deduce what people from an unknown planet want, how to manage a first contact situation. They are all very frustrated because half the time nobody reads them or listens to them.

All of them spend their days trying to get Sisko to agree to take them on a mission to a far away planet so that they can gather data in the planet, in the natural context, but it's always too dangerous so they're stuck with the random traveler who stops at Quark's. They ask the other team members to please carry a recorder and record conversations so that they can analyse them later without the translator's influence. Many of them end up carrying their missions with freighters, runabouts and other non-Starfleet ships.

Some of them tried to offer services as forensic linguists when the threat of the Dominion started to spread so that they could analyse someone's speech and look for alterations, things they wouldn't say or other differences and spot impersonators but Starfleet thought it was slow and risky because what if they were mistaken?

They really love going to the Klingon restaurant because the owner is always happy to help, telling them Klingon idioms, jokes, insults, traditions and correcting their Klingon. Unexpectedly, Morn is also a good contact, he may drink a bit too much and sometimes he speaks and speaks in his monotone voice but he gladly lets them record his speech, writes things for them and brings them reading material.

Quark doesn't want to participate because where is the profit but Rom does, also because he needs translations of engineering and mechanic terminology into Ferengi, the database for Bajoran-Ferengi in this domain is not good enough and half the time they have to use some Starfleet official language as relay.

Garak is also readily available but trying to make sense of Cardassian culture from him is an impossible task. They do have a large database of fabric-related vocabulary in Cardassian. He refuses to acknowledge that he knows about weapons, army or other non-tailor related jobs. He sometimes accepts to tell them about plants, as he was a gardener once. They also have a great glossary of idioms and turns of phrases thanks to Garak.

They keep trying to figure out what is the changelings language when they are not in solid form, but they only have Odo for tests and he has had his share of tests so he only answers a couple of questions at a time before he is very busy. He never accepts to take tests to figure out language in liquid form.

Obviously, the database that is growing the fastest and with the best examples is Bajoran, to and from so many languages. They have samples of all ages and parts of society, they have access to books, music and videos of all sorts. More than one linguist from more than one planet has become the expert of Bajoran cutlure, translation from and to Bajoran, Bajoran religious expressions, etc.

#star trek #star trek: ds9 #long post #fan theory

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truths33k3r4 · 3 months

Text

CHAPTER 17 - IQ vs EQ

Another small jolt from Lotus made Don rethink his slight outburst. He lowered his volume automatically.

“.. Leo… PLEASE tell me you have a good reason for such a.. miscalculation on your part, oh, TEAM MEDIC. “ Don made sure to over-articulate the last three words..

Leo’s shoulders rose higher and higher with each of Don’s questions, as his head slowly retreated into his shell. As Don paused, Leo saw his chance to speak up and snatched it immediately.

“- I KNOW, OK? I know.. I THOUGHT that because she was numbed, she wouldn’t wake up, so I didn’t give her anything else- “

Leo got cut off as his body was pulled by Don out of the Medbay and into the hallway.

Don shut the door quietly.

And then he inhaled.

‘ Here we go..’ Leo braced for impact.

“- Leo. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING???? Yes, when you started the procedure, she was unconscious, BUT YOU ALWAYS PREPARE FOR THE WORST.. “

Don’s hands shook and swayed with every emotion he manifested.

“..Your optimism of how the procedure would go cost Lotus PAIN. Physical discomfort- or how Mikey would say it - THE OUCHY FEELINGS. “

Leo sighed as the words he had ready on his tongue disintegrated instantly.

As always, Leo’s genius brother was right. Leo had been an idiot with how he handled Lotus’ procedure. There was nothing he could say that would change that.

Don took Leo’s silence into consideration. He watched his oldest brother’s expression change from passionate and defensive, to despondent and regretful. Leo’s shoulders, which were earlier nearly to his ears, now hung low and heavy.

‘ Perhaps I’m being too harsh.. ‘ Don thought to himself, as he forced a more softened expression on his face.

‘ Maybe adding a hint of a compliment will help.. But nothing too obvious.. Just enough so that he doesn’t think I’m.. attacking him.. ‘

“ What happened in there? You’re our team medic. You would KNOW BETTER than to choose such a… amateur medical decision… “ Don’s voice no longer dripped with the sting of bluntness, but now carried a soothing coolness with his tone.

He was never really good at verbally comforting someone, so over the years he learned to use facts, something unmoving and true, to help calm his brothers. ( And sometimes himself when he needed it. ) The same principle applied with his ‘ compliments ’. ( On the rare occasion he would attempt to encourage or uplift his brothers that is. They had Mikey for that. )

It was hard for Don to take it in his own hands to be the.. ugh.. ‘emotional anchor’ of EQ based situations. That was Mikey’s job. Or Sensei. Anyone but him. He was the last resort. It didn’t make sense to him to waste time with trying when there were others more equipped for such a daunting task. He does machines, and Mikey’s the party dude: He works with elements that can be fixed with the creative mind or an instruction manual, and Mikey.. deals with feelings ; Messy, illogical feelings.

Leo sensed the sincerity of Don’s words. As his face warmed with a faded smile, weighed down by pressure, guilt, and just- PURE exhaustion, he responded to Don’s question.

“ Don, I - I TRIED! I thought since I numbed Lotus’ leg, she would stay asleep till it was over, but then she woke up while I was pulling out the implant! “

Don tried and failed to hide a grimace at the thought.

“.. It was like the lidocaine just stopped working.. And by the time she was fully conscious, I had already gripped onto the implant and was pulling it out!! “ Leo raised his hands over his head and began to massage the back of his neck as his voice grew more shaky, “ There wasn’t any time to- I… I didn’t know it wouldn’t.. “

Leo dropped his head into his hands, as he let out an exasperated groan.

“ .. I didn’t know what to do. “

Don paused to study his brother. He noticed now how shaky Leo’s breathing had become, as well as the slow drips of sweat that were traveling down his forehead onto his hands:

Clear indicators of stress.

Don gently placed his hand on his oldest brother’s shoulder, causing Leo to flinch, lifting his head out of his hands in a quick, fluid movement. As their eyes met, an understanding, but miniscule, grin grew on Don’s face.

Just like with his twin, Don sent a mental message to Leo:

‘ It’s ok. You did what you could. I understand. ‘

Leo smiled back at his violet- clad brother.

“ Thanks, bro. I needed that. Facts and all. “

Don nodded, dropping his smile, and returning to the face he had programmed himself to wear. He then used his grip on Leo’s shoulder to push him back near the Medbay door.

“ We should scan that implant as soon as possible. Once um.. once it’s been THOROUGHLY decontaminated and STERILIZED… Maybe it holds information on who Lotus is, or coordinates to where she resided before she was taken to the lab..”

Leo took Don’s quick change of subject as his way of ending the emotional talk as soon as possible, which… he was fine with.. How many times had he cried today? WAY THE FRICK TOO MANY.

Leo made his way back into the Medbay, with Don following close behind. As they walked in, a certain tint of an orange mask caught their eye.

“ MIKEY! “ They both whisper-shouted in unison. The youngest turned his head, smiled with the brightness of a thousand suns, and then waved emphatically at his speechless older brothers.

“ Sup! “ Mikey some-what whispered.

Leo and Don turned to each other, with the same question etched into their face,

‘ How the heck did we not see him go in??? ‘

Mikey also understood the question behind their tongue-tied expressions.

“ A ninja never reveals his secrets. “ Mikey triumphantly taunted, wiggling his fingers as if he were playing an air- piano. “ Sooooo, snacks are all set in the kitchen.. Want me to wake her u- “

“ TOO LATE, OJ. “ Lotus interjected, turning over on the surgical table, revealing her VERY ANNOYED expression.

“- GAAIIEEEE! How long have you been awake?? “ Mikey shouted, as both Leo and Don smacked their foreheads.

“ …FAR…TOO….LONG… “ Lotus grumbled as she sat up slowly.

Unfortunately, Leo was too late to warn her not to move.

With a loud hiss, and a quick flinch of fire shooting up her left leg, Lotus’s shell landed back onto the table with a THUD..

..” Right… “ Lotus rasped, “.. No… moving… Owww. “

“ Ooooh~ That probably didn’t tickle..” Mikey winced in empathy.

“ NAHHH what gave you THAT idea?.. “ Lotus growled as she tried to manually move her leg to its original position on the table, being careful not to strain any muscles.

Leo had to blink when he heard Lotus’ growl.

‘ ..She sounds just like Raph…’ Leo thought to himself.

Just to test his theory, he turned his head to face his two brothers. Perhaps they had noticed too.

Mikey didn’t seem all that fazed. Which is completely normal. He had grown accustomed to Raph’s snarls seeing how half the time they were targeted at himself, so it didn’t really frighten him when Lotus mimicked the behavior.

But Don was a different story.

When Leo turned to Don, his eyes were slightly widened, and he was peering at Lotus while he fixed his glasses. His mouth was slightly ajar until it shut as he hummed to himself.

“ Hmmmmmmmm. “

That's it for this chapter! :)

If you have any questions or theories, feel free to send me an ask, and I'll answer as best I can without giving away too many spoilers. :)

To God be the glory!

Masterpost <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

#tmnt #my version of tmnt!!#the strength in weakness #comfort #fluff #SIW Leo #SIW Don #SIW Mikey #SIW Lotus

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ashcal99 · 1 year

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Certain Things : Leah Clearwater I

Chapter One

"Something about you, It's like an addiction, Hit me with your best shot honey, I've got no reason to doubt you, 'Cause certain things hurt, And you're my only virtue"

Summary: Conner Swan moves to Forks Washington in hopes to help his sister Bella through her breakup with Edward. In hopes to find happiness again. He finds much more.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, loss, antidepressants, general angst, slow burn

Words: 3.5k

A/N: Comment if I missed any warning or anything plz thnx.

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

!!!There is a prologue linked above if you're interested. You don't need to read it, but it does explain a lot of what's written later on.!!!

——————

December 18th, 2005

Traveling to Forks all the way from Phoenix was a long and boring trip. One that Conner had never driven before as he typically flew when traveling to visit his father. Unfortunately, seeing as he had about 20 moving boxes crammed in and strapped down under a tarp in the bed of his truck, he couldn’t exactly travel by those means this time. He supposed could’ve shipped his belongings and truck up the country, but he didn’t even want to think about how much money that would have cost. Being an accountant didn’t exactly support a lavish lifestyle by any means. Moving was never fun, especially when it was almost 1,600 miles away. But he knew that when he agreed to his father’s request to relocate north.

The twenty-one year old had been driving for about nineteen hours now, so doing a quick calculation in his head, he figured he had about four and a half hours left of the drive. He had refused to stop and pay for a hotel that he couldn’t afford and tiredness had long started to eat away at his mind. Looking at the small fluorescent numbers on his dashboard, he saw it had reached dinner time. In almost comical timing, his stomach growled out a borderline demonic sound, demanding to be fed. Giving into hunger, he pulled the old dull blue chevy truck to the nearest exit, deciding he would stop at the first restaurant he drove past. Much to his dismay, the only signs of life were an old gas station that looked like it was straight out of the 1950’s and a diner to match. Sure, 50’s diners had their appeal, but let’s just say, this one seemed a bit too authentic. He could get back on the interstate and drive further to see if there was anything else, but he knew for a fact that there wouldn’t be another exit for miles and he wasn’t about to backtrack south. He would just have to hope and pray that the food tasted better than the place looked.

Driving up to the almost empty parking lot, he pulled the transmission into park and un-clicked his seatbelt. Pausing for a moment he glanced again to the dirty windows and rusting railing of the building and grimaced. Did he really need food this bad? His stomach answered almost immediately with a low gurgling groan. Okay, that would be a yes then. Throwing his door open, he stepped out, stretching his long limbs for what felt like the first time in years. Reluctantly, he stepped back from the pick-up, manually locking the vehicle with the key, and began trudging stiffly to the dull chrome rimmed door. Once inside, his hopes for a decent meal demolished to ash as the odor of grease and burnt toast hit his sinuses. His nose wrinkled in disgust, as he choked out a cough in protest, earning the attention of a middle aged woman wearing a stained white apron who was sat directly in front of the doors, at the diner’s bar. Looking almost shocked to see a customer, she slid off the stool to her feet. Stepping over to greet Conner at the “wait to be seated” sign.

“Well hello, how can I help you?” She asked confused, the crease between her brows deepening. This couldn’t be a good sign, right? Surly it was bad that she was questioning why he would step into a diner around dinner time.

Taking a quick breath, trying not to breath through his nose too much, he answered. “Um yeah, table for one?” He needed food and a break from driving to wake up, he told himself. He could muster through this and get back to driving soon.

Quirking an eyebrow at the young man, the woman answered. “Are you sure about that? The only people we ever really serve are the farmers around here, and they clearly have incredibly low standards when it comes to the definition of food.”

He grimaced as another strong wiff of something burning hit his nostrils, seeming to singe the hairs. “Yeah, I can see that, well… smell it I guess.” He stated, wincing from the stench. “Unfortunately though, yes, I am afraid I do need to have something to eat as soon as possible or I think my stomach may start eating itself. Which I’m starting to wonder if that is the better of the two options here.” He half joked, earning a small slanted grin from the waitress.

“Right this way sweetie.” She said, ushering him to follow her to the furthest booth from the open kitchen. She slid into the booth quickly, reaching forward to unlatch the ancient window. She swiftly pulled the metal frame upwards, it groaning in protest. “Sorry about the smell sweet pea, our cook Earl gets a bit overzealous with the toaster.” She apologized, sliding against the old creaky booth to stand upright.

Conner smiled slightly, leaning down to sit on the cracked worn leather. “No worries, I just need something to eat to get me by for the rest of my drive.” He stated, pausing a moment to get a nice breath of fresh air from the now open window. “What would you recommend that’s least likely to give me food poisoning, a heart attack, or a stomach ulcer?” He half joked, a lop sided grin forming on his mouth.

The woman let out a bark of laughter, throwing her hand to her chest. “Honey, I wouldn’t touch any food here with a ten foot pole myself, but if you’re that desperate, I would recommend a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup considering the soup comes from a can-“ she paused, taking in a breath from her nose, and continued. “But, on second thought, maybe just some soup would be best.” She smiled apologetically.

Agreeing to the soup with a glass of water to drink, Conner leaned back into the creaking booth, stretching his legs as much as the space below the short table would allow. Running his fingers through his hair, he let out a deep sigh, as his thoughts began to wander.

He didn’t know what to expect when seeing his sister again after almost a year with little to no contact. The last time he had seen her had been after her accident and she had been too drugged up on pain meds to really hold much of a conversation. As far as he knew, she had no idea he was moving up, as him and Charlie decided it would be best kept a surprise.

Conner wasn’t too sure how she would react considering she had willingly stopped her daily conversations with him. He did know that after starting his antidepressants he had gotten a bit better with handling his trauma, and he could only hope that he was less of a burden to her because of it. Because, that’s what he was, right? Clearly there was a reason she had stopped talking to him after years of having a tight knit relationship with each other.

Really, he didn’t blame her, not too much anyway. He didn’t want her to feel trapped into comforting him through his depression, no matter how much it hurt him to be pushed away. She was the younger sibling and he had made the promise to protect her, not the other way around. He couldn’t expect to be coddled by her. None the less, the thought made his chest ache.

He slumped forwards, elbows resting on the table, dropping his head into his hands. The dull ache in his forehead grew. His thoughts continued grow more and more dismal, the ache turning into a pulsing behind his brow. He let his eyes shut as he kneaded his thumbs on his temples, trying to relieve some of the pain.

Before he knew it, he was jolting awake to a small shake of his shoulder. Looking around frantically, it took him a moment to remember where he was. The diner’s fluorescent lights burned his sleepy eyes as tried blinking them to attention. Turning to the waitress that still had her hand on his shoulder he asked, slightly panicked. “What time is it? How long was I asleep?”

She gave him a soft smile and replied. “Don’t worry sweetheart, you were only out a few minutes.” She paused, setting the bowl of steaming soup she had been holding down on the table, completely unbothered by the obvious heat of the ceramic bowl. “I am, however a bit concerned about your state of alertness and getting back on the road.” She continued.

He let out a small awkward laugh in reply, brushing his fingers through his hair once again, it being a bit of a nervous habit of his to do so. “Yeah-“ He said, letting out a deep yawn. “I guess I needed a bit of a power nap. I should probably get a cup of coffee to go and hope my stomach doesn’t put up too much of a fight at the food and drink combination.” He laughed.

She chuckled in reply, resting her hands inside the stained apron pockets. “Well, I’ll go ahead and start brewing that for you then.” She said smiling, turning, and walking behind the bar.

——————

Conner sipped on the coffee that had long lost its’ warmth, trying to keep himself alert. It had been a while since he had been in cold like Washington during December, and of course, he had forgotten that his truck’s heating had gone out. It was just his luck that this happened. He hadn’t exactly forgotten, but he had been so used to driving around phoenix, no matter the time of year, with his window rolled down to compensate for the fact that the heating and ac had stopped working. Arizona didn’t exactly come with the issue of trying to stay warm over half of the year. So, of course, when the sun had set just as he crossed over the Washington state line, he instantly regretted not fixing the truck previously. He knew he would have to find a mechanic to fix it asap, but for now, he was screwed.

So there her was, bundled in as many layers as he could fit on his body, sipping on cold coffee, shivering while his teeth chattered in his mouth. His cheeks had to have been bright red, he was sure. He was almost there though. In fact, hd was even starting to recognize familiar buildings on his way into town, and he knew he was only a few minutes away. Sure enough, he rounded the corner and instantly spotted the old police cruiser out front.

Not much had changed with the house since he had last seen it. The same old trees out front. Same chipped white paint. The only difference was a clunky ancient looking orange truck that now occupied half of the cracked driveway. This, he knew to be Bella’s. She had gotten it on her first day in town, back when she was still speaking to her brother.

Putting the truck in park for its’ final time of the night, he sighed, pulling the key from the ignition. Grabbing a few things, his keys, cell phone, and backpack full of overnight items, he slid out of the cab of the truck into the cold air. He closed the car door softly, trying not to make too much noise in hopes to not wake Bella, assuming she would be sleeping by now. He knew she had been having trouble sleeping and didn’t want to interfere with what little sleep she did get.

Walking up to the front door, he knocked softly. As he stood there, blowing on his hands, trying to warm them the best he could, the door swung open. And there stood Charlie. Not a thing had changed, minus maybe a new wrinkle here or there. Still the same warn out flannel shirt, bushy mustache, and warm brown eyes. "Conner!" His father whisper-shouted. Grabbing his son and wrapping him in his arms. God, he missed his dad’s hugs. Sure, the man was socially awkward as hell, but damn, did he hug with his whole heart. “I missed you so much, Son.” He said, the words muffled by Conner’s shoulder. His son had gotten taller since he had last seen him, that was for sure.

“I missed you too, Dad” He said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come to visit sooner.” He felt his eyes begin to water, trying to push back the building emotion behind his voice.

The older man pulled away, keeping his hands on his son’s shoulders, looking deep into the blues of his eyes. “Stop that. You don’t have to explain yourself or apologize. You’ve been through hell and back, Con. I understand, and I just hope that I can be there for you when you need me.” He said, tears filling his eyes as well. “You and Bells are the most important things in my life and that’s never going to change, okay?” He asked.

As Conner looked into the deep brown of his father’s eyes, the tightness in his chest that had been there for over year, slightly loosened its’ grip. He felt the comfort of home embrace the shards of his broken heart for the first time since Mia had left him. A small smile graced his lips as he nodded lightly, excepting his father’s love.

Charlie let out a deep sigh, letting his hands drop from his son’s shoulders, ushering him inside the warmth of the home. Closing the door and locking it, he turned to Conner. “I put sheets on your bed upstairs. I’m sorry, I only had your old sheets that fit, so you may want to get new ones once you get settled.” He said, giving his son a small smile.

“Thanks, Dad. I’m sure they’re fine. I’m just ready to knock out for ten hours straight.” He said, laughing lightly.

Charlie smiled. ”Okay, I'm going to go to sleep now, have to get up early in the morning. I assume you’ll still be asleep when I leave for work, but I’ll be home around seven, if you want to wait up and have dinner with me?” He asked hopefully.

"Will do, goodnight dad.” Conner replied, smiling softly.

"Night, Con. Glad you're here." Charlie took one more glance at his son before walking down the hall and into his bedroom.

He knew his aching limbs and head would have to wait until tomorrow to unpack the bed of his truck, so he didn’t bother waiting any longer before he trudged up the narrow stairs to his childhood bedroom. Trying to open the old creaky door quietly, he reached in, flipping the light on.

Warm light flooded the room revealing a small dresser, and an old mattress lying on the floor. It wasn’t the best set up, seeing as he was six foot two and would probably find some difficulty getting out of bed from so low, but this was how it was set up when he was a kid. Charlie hadn’t had time to change much of anything with such short notice and that was made clear by the power ranger posters that littered the wood paneling of the walls and the sheets that were stretched tightly across the mattress that were covered in looney tunes characters.

He sighed, knowing he would need to purchase a bed frame eventually, as he left his old one back in Phoenix, not exactly having the room for it in the bed of his truck. But that was okay, he had at least packed his sheets, and they were tucked away somewhere with the rest of his things. He would worry about that tomorrow though. For now, he just wanted a warm shower and a good night’s rest.

Setting his keys and phone down on the dresser, he turned, making his way to the small shared bathroom down the hall. Turning the water on, he dug through his bag, finding his soap and shampoo, and setting them on the edge of the tub. Peeling layer by layer off, he tossed them into the laundry hamper that occupied the far left corner. Finally, he discarded his last piece of clothing, the cool air hitting his bare skin.

Goosebumps rose on his arms as he stepped over the edge of the tub, letting the steady stream of water run over his rigid frame. He took in a deep breath, feeling the steam enter his lungs. Slowly letting the air back out, he felt his body relax under the warmth of the water. His body ached in protest of his day’s journey, the heat gradually easing the tense muscles. His mind blurred through the motions of his shower routine, wanting to finish quickly, so that he could enjoy the warmth for a bit longer. Finishing, he leaned his head back, letting the water droplets run freely down his face.

It was then that he allowed his thoughts to overcome him. It had been an overwhelming day to say the least, and after over twenty-four hours of distracting himself with music or books on tape, he was finally alone with his mind. He didn’t know what to expect from the move. It had been so long since he had set foot in the small town, and suddenly he was picking up and moving here? Sure, he had always missed his father and was happy to be around people he loved once again, but everything had progressed so quickly, he hadn’t been given time to process anything. He had gone over a year after the accident going by a strict schedule he had set in place in order to distract himself from the agonizing pain in his heart.

Now, he had been ripped away from his job, from his apartment, and from the life he was used to living day by day, and suddenly it was hard to breath. He felt his chest begin to raise quickly, up and down as he tried to catch is bearings. The sound of the water beating down on the porcelain tub began to drown out, the pounding in his ears numbing everything but the panic building in his chest.

Was he screaming? Maybe? Surely not. No, definitely not. Snapping out of his thoughts, he quickly shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he rushed to dry himself and wrap the cloth around his waist. Pushing the door open, cool air rushed down his spine, bringing the goosebumps back to his skin. Following the screams, he found himself lead to what he remembered to be his sister’s room.

Sure enough, there she was. The light of the hallway pouried in through the doorway, illuminating her thrashing body. He rushed to her side, shaking her urgently, trying to wake her from her nightmare. With a sudden gasp of air, she shot awake. Squinting through the light at the hazy silhouette before her, she blinked rapidly. Her voice cracked. “C-Conner?” She asked confused. Was she still dreaming? She couldn’t be. Her dreams hadn’t consisted of anything as pleasant as seeing her brother for a while now.

But her heart sunk as realization hit her. She had deliberately avoided him for over a year. Of course she had a good reason to do so in the beginning, but eventually it just turned into her not knowing how to come back and fix the mess that she had made of their relationship. And now he was here to taunt her in her dreams? This had to be a nightmare.

Panic began to fill her chest once again. Conner saw this in the brown of her eyes, and he quickly laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Bells, it’s okay. It’s me, I’m here.” He said reassuringly.

The space between her eyebrows creased as she finally got a good glimpse at him. Water dripped from his tousled hair onto the soft lavender of her sheets, darkening the shade slightly. She blinked. It was really him. She wasn’t too sure if that was much better than him being a part of her nightmare. “H-How?” She breathed out.

Conner sighed, “It’s late Bells, and I’ve been driving all day. I’ll explain in the morning, I promise. But, for now, you and I both need sleep. Okay?” He asked. After receiving a nod in repose, he stood, assuring his towel was secure around his waist, and walked forward to leave the room.

“Con?” Bella croaked. Turning his head back to the girl, he hummed in question. “I love you.” She answered softly, her voice trailing off slightly towards the end of her sentence.

The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly upward. “I love you too, Bells. Goodnight.” He said, not waiting for a response as he walking into the hallway, shutting her bedroom door behind himself.

After going back to the bathroom and grabbing his backpack, he sauntered back to his room. Dressing quickly in black sweatpants and a plain grey t-shirt, he climbed down into bed silently. Wrapping himself in the warmth and comfort of his childhood bed, he let himself succumb to sleep.

Next Chapter

#leah clearwater x reader #leah clearwater #Leah clearwater smut #twilight smut #twilight #Bella swan #Charlie swan #Edward cullen #eventual smut #slow burn #Leah clearwater x m!reader

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alastairstom · 1 year

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If the TLH Squad Had the Internet: A Companion to Social Media Headcanons

I am sorry, my Matthew and Thomastair biases are emerging again, please accept me

The first thing Matthew does when he connects to ye olde world wide web is turn to the rest of the group. "this is cool," he says. "i'm going to use it to download stageplays illegally, find sexually explicit materials, and watch videos of cute animals playing."

Alastair looks at him with SUPREME judgment. "This device contains the entirety of human knowledge, no one is ever going to use it for that. Don't be stupid."

Matthew shrugs and goes back to his illegal stageplay downloads. "I think that's exactly what people will use it for."

Alastair is interested in the internet because it is a New Thing. He begins to research it a bit. He's reading essays on the internet, how it was formed, how it works, how to navigate it. He especially learns how to protect his privacy online.

Matthew accepts ALL cookies. He thinks he will get literal cookies. Alastair, who has learned about cookies, just lets it happen.

Thomas and James decide to pull a prank on Matthew and Alastair. They painstakingly figure out how to order GrubHub and get Insomnia Cookies delivered. Matthew takes this as an enormous win because he was right, he got cookies. Alastair can suck it.

Thomas and James both find food delivery fascinating. They learn that they can eat whatever they want if they press a few buttons. They do not really understand that they're paying for it. They order like 20 pounds of Pad Thai.

Thomas also is extremely interested in podcasts. He can hear people speaking other languages and learn new things with the touch of a button. He likes Lexicon Valley, and he just starts listening to it. He listens to it for hours while everything goes on around him. It's cool.

Eventually, Thomas shows Alastair Spotify. Alastair thinks Spotify is the coolest thing because he can listen to classical music and ghazals whenever he wants to. He winds up making several playlists.

He hates modern music and has decided that it is The Enemy. Matthew discovers Shake It Off and loves it. He plays it loudly and it's only 50% to annoy Alastair.

Matthew becomes a huge Swiftie.

Alastair's playlists are extremely organized in a way that fascinates both James and Matthew, who have just ❤ed random shit they like in the most disorganized way.

James and Matthew also figure out that they can make joint playlists, which is pretty cool.

James downloads the Kindle app on his phone and has realized that he can read books on his device. He thinks it's really cool because he can take the books anywhere, but he ultimately decides he doesn't like it because it doesn't smell or feel like a book.

Matthew, who is a World Traveler, likes the app so much that he orders an actual Kindle. Now he doesn't need to lug books about as he travels the world, and he can always have the Complete Works of Oscar Wilde with him. It works.

Cordelia is mostly confused with how the keyboard works because she ran her hand across it once and it automatically made words. She realized that she doesn't need to type the words manually and wants to emulate that. She can't figure out that she needs to run her fingers over the letters in the configurations of the words she wants to make.

Eventually, she does get there and gasps. She shows James. This has rocked his world. Both of them now refuse to type like normal people and Alastair casts solid judgment on them. He thinks that the dragging-your-fingers method is not only lazy, but ineffective because of their many typos. (He is correct).

Cordelia also uses this opportunity to learn more about Cortana as it exists in the crown jewels. She's baffled to learn the facts of this Cortana as it is so different from her own sword. She finds it moderately uncomfortable that there's a second Cortana in the Tower of London.

Like Alastair, she likes reading essays on JStor. Matthew thinks this is a weird way to use the internet.

Matthew has downloaded so much illegal music at this point it's insane.

Lmk if you want a Part 2 :)

#matthew fairchild #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #cordelia carstairs #james herondale #tlh #the last hours #chot #chain of thorns

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randomthefox · 30 days

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(BTW sorry if it's too long)

Hi there

Saw your sonic timeline

Not trying to bash your timeline, complain or say you're wrong or anything, I just have a few questions just to understand. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

1-why is Sonic 1-GG before sonic 1-MD?

2-I understand why SegaSonic and Tails Adventure could take place at the same time, but why are they and sonic 2-GG between CD and sonic 2-MD?

3-why is chaos between 2 and 3? Doesn't 3 start right after 2?

4-I understand Skypatrol and Labyrinth taking place at the same time but how is knuckles chaotix also around the same time?

5-why is advance between Sa1(+shuffle) and Sa2?

6-If 06 rewrote itself (aka back to the future type of time travel), then how does generations create a split timeline? Can the time eater split timelines?

BTW I could still be wrong so feel free to correct me.

S'all good I like explaining my insanity

The Sonic 1 Japanese Manual establishes that Sonic and Eggman have had conflicts before, the events of the Genesis game are NOT their first encounter. And the japanese manual also says that Eggman started shoving animals into his robots specifically as a fuck you to Sonic, turning all his friends on the island into his enemies. So considering the Master system/Game Gear version of Sonic 1 has robot enemies that animals do NOT pop out of when you destroy them and also how the first boss of the first stage of Sonic 1 MS/GG is just Eggman trying to ram into Sonic with his Egg Mobile with no weapon attachments, to me it makes sense to say some version of the Master System/Game Gear games events happened before the MegaDrive/Genesis games events.

Sonic CD takes place inbetween Sonic 1 and Sonic 2, something I felt was true even before Sonic Origins came out and confirmed that placement. I personally feel like the events depicted in the Master System/Game Gear version of Sonic 2 make more sense to have happened before Sonic 2 Megadrive/Genesis. Because the plot is Tails being kidnapped and needing to be rescued, so it feels like a more satisfying character arc for Tails to go from damsel to side kick.

When it comes to the Game Gear versions of Sonic 1 and 2 you kind of have to fudge the details a bit because they were not created with the intention of being different stories, but alternate versions of the same story. And also Sonic 2 MS/GG takes place on South Island which is impossible for several reasons lol.

There is an implied passage of time inbetween Sonic 2 and Sonic 3 insofaras Sonic did not IMMEDIATELY just into the Tornado and fly off for Angel Island - the Japanese manual says that he was chilling on a beach and finding washed up artifacts that made him think of an old legend about a lost island, and it was Tails telling him about readings he got on some sonar machine that inspired them to fly off. Eggman is supposed to be more or less trapped on Angel Island sure, but frankly nothing is stopping him from just leaving the island if he wants. The only reason he's sticking around is because that's where the Death Egg crashed, and he wants to repair repower and launch it again. So to me the events of Sonic Chaos could be squeezed in between those two games.

For Sonic Labyrinth Tails Skypatrol and Knuckles Chaotix I just kind of like the idea that Sonic Tails and Knuckles all were off having their own personal independent adventure all at the same time. It feels appropriate that their solo adventures happened simultaneously. Sonic and Tails show up for the ending screen of Chaotix but they're not in the game proper, so they could easily have just flown over after finishing their own games, especially considering Chaotix is just so much Longer of a game than Labrynth and skypatrol.

Advance very clearly takes place after Sonic Adventure since it features Amy in her new red dress design, and it does NOT feature any of the new characters that show up in Adventure 2. So it feels right that it's nestled between the Adventure games. Advance 2 introduces Cream the rabbit before her appearance in Heroes, so that's why that game seems right to take place before Heroes which is after Sonic Adventure 2. Also based on the release dates of the games themselves.

I go back and forth on Sonic 06 but personally I still feel like my justifications for why it should be considered an alternate timeline hold water: Eggman's design is IMPOSSIBLE to explain and NO I do not accept "art style change, non-canon" as an excuse. And Elise having had one of the chaos emeralds in her possession for TEN YEARS literally makes every single game that happens before the events of 06 impossible. Seriously that chaos emerald Silver leaves with Elise that she has in her possession at the beginning of the game is a god damn time paradox in and of itself. Blaze being in Silver's future only to then end up being a native of the Sol dimension is the only thing that could have a plausible Single Timeline explanation but even that is like. Kind of lame, in my opinion. It really undercuts the emotional impact of Blaze's death scene to say that her sacrificing herself to seal Iblis away was ACTUALLY just sending her to be reincarnated in an alternate dimension to be born and grow up as a princess. That's some "Bardock didn't actually die from Freeza's death ball he was actually sent back in time and became the first Super Sayian" shit.

To me the idea that Sonic 06 was an alternate timeline, and the events of Generations and the Time Eater just spliced them into the primary timeline by doing some fourth dimensional timeline fuckery. Battle of Red Mountain style. Sonic Mania spinning off from the events of Sonic Generations because Past Versions of Sonic and Eggman receiving knowledge of future events and that changes their fate is also my natural conclusion, though Sonic Superstars kind of puts a monkey wrench in that. It's a lot easier to wrap your head around if you just consider time non-linearly though.

Everything makes sense as long as you're as crazy as I am lol

#sonic #sonic timeline #sonic the hedgehog

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quirkwizard · 2 years

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Heroes vs Villains: Battle Plans

So with the heroes and villains duking it out on such a grand scale, I thought it would be fun to talk about what the heroes might have been thinking with some of their choices with the hero and villain parings and offer some of my own suggestions. I am talking about these in the context of in universe reasoning. Some of these characters are where they are for narrative reasons, but that is not the focus of this post. I can take any active hero in the country for this, so no retired, dead, or out-of-country heroes.

I won't be covering Takoba National Stadium or Aoyama's Meeting Place. As of right now, there isn't much to go off of for what those characters are up against, so there is nothing for me to work off of. I also won't move characters if I think they are better served where they are right now. For example, while Manual might be useful fighting in the aquatic area due to the abundance of water for him to control, he is far more valuable helping out Monoma and Aizawa.

Spinner’s Location: I’m honestly confused about why Koda and Shoji are here. I get narratively why they’re here, Hori obviously wants to wrap up that Mutant plot he introduced, but I fail to see why they are here from an in-universe perspective. Koda is almost exclusively useful as a support hero, and while he is tough, Shoji doesn’t have the greatest power output. Are they hoping that Koda would be able to control Spinner because he has Animal Mutation? Wow guys, way to make an assumption.

Now Iida would be great here. In such a tight space, he could dart around at high speeds, beating as many people as possible while wasting as little of his Recipro Burst as possible. Tokoyami would be good here too. With how few windows there seem to be, I imagine he’d be able to summon up a pretty large Dark Shadow and wipe everyone out. It would especially be good against Spinner since we’ve seen that Dark Shadow can work around getting stabbed by Moonfish.

Okuto Island: There's not a lot to say here given how few characters we see on both side of the conflict. Tsuyu, Gang Orca, and Selkie make sense, taking full advantage of the aquatic environment with their animal powers. I don't entirely understand why Uraraka is there from an in universe perspective. With all the sand and water she has around her, she doesn’t have as many items to use her Quirk on outside of a few rocks. I suppose you could argue that she does have the most experience with fighting Toga out of all of the heroes, so they’d want the edge their, but that seems flimsy.

Jiro and Shindo might actually be pretty useful here since, as the area is surrounded by water, they could send out more powerful shockwaves over longer ranges since vibrations would travel much easier in water, dealing with plenty of villains in quick succession. I would also add some of the more armored characters, like Kirishima, Hiryu, or even Ryukyu. Considering how big of threat Moonfish is with his blades and how reliant Toga is on blades to extra blood, any character with a lot of natural defense could work to counter both of those villain's’ main strategies.

Jaku Hospital: The line up of students here is good. As the main goal is to keep people from Gigantomachia, it only makes sense to use some of the more defensive heroes. Yui and Reiko can probably use their growing small objects combination to harass people, Mina’s Juzo can deter enemy movement, Mineta can catch people in his orbs, and Kirishima is just an amazing tank. Mount Lady is the only one I’m uncertain about. She isn’t terrible in terms of defense with how she can sweep people, I just think she’d be better elsewhere. My only guess is that Mount Lady is around in case Gigantomachia gets unleashed, as she is one of the few heroes who can effectively fight against him.

I’m surprised Shoda isn’t here. Not only could he compliment Yui and Reiko, reusing their strategy in the Joint Training Arc, since they planned this all beforehand, he could easily have impact landlines all over the place. He could even put him near Gigantomachia’s door, keeping anyone from getting too close. Present Mic could be great here. Since All the villains are focusing in on a single position, he could easily get a lot of them in a single sonic attack without worrying about his allies. Ectoplasm could be good to have. His various clones and his connections to them would help in keeping people from getting to Gigantomachia. Plus his giant body parts could swat people around him like Mount Lady or trap people inside them.

All Might Statue: There is Shoto, who is able to match and counter with his own temperature powers and resistances. Then there are Endeavor's sidekicks. Not only do all of these characters have ways to deal with the fires, but they have worked with Endeavor for an extended period of time. So they could counter Dabi's moves given that he took a lot of them from Endeavor. Iida seems like a really bizarre choice to be fighting Dabi. Not only because he has a natural weakness against Dabi, it was stated that being close to sources of high heat would cause his leg engines to overheat, but he's also a melee fighter. He's going to fly into Dabi and get burnt to a crisp. Even if he's meant to somehow overwhelm Dabi with speed or take care of the stragglers, it seems like an oversight to put him here.

I would have thrown Tetsutetsu in there as well. While he is another melee fighter, his amazing durability and massive resistance to heat could get him in close enough to deal serious damage to Dabi. Juzo could also work as an interesting counter. In theory, he could help contain or deter some of Dabi's flames by submerging him in the mud. If that doesn't work, Dabi has some pretty poor mobility when it comes to verticality. So trapping him in the mud could slow him down and make him an easier target. In a similar fashion, Bondo could help contain both Dabi and his flames, if even for a short while. Wash might be pretty good here as well, since he could help counteract whatever fire Dabi puts out with his soapy water. That or put Dabi in a time out bubble until he learns his lesson.

Gunga Mountain Resort: Endeavor, Hawks, Kamui Woods, and Shishido are some of the strongest heroes active right now, so it's only natural that they would fight All For One. Tora and Pixie Bob are both specially adapted to the environment as mountain rescue heroes. Pixie Bob in particular would do great here, having a lot of material to move and make Earth Beasts out of. Tokoyami feels odd here. It's been shown that Tokoyami doesn't work well with crowds, and I seriously doubt he could do much against All For One. Unless the idea is that being in a dark area like the forest would empower him, but having a raging shadow beast running around seems more like a liability. Jiro is odd too, as all the trees would deter her sound attacks, but it's not that bad. Kiniko is a good choice. We've seen before how good she is with crowd control. And since they are in a forested area, it's likely that humidity is much higher, meaning she has more moisture to work with.

Mount Lady would be a good pick for here. She has a lot more open space to battle in, so she wouldn't have to worry about confined spaces like she usually does. The same goes for Jurtora as well, with his beast form. Ibara might do some good here given how much area she can cover at once with her vines, subduing multiple foes at time with he hair. You think that Ojiro and Sato would be here, as it seems to have devolved into a massive brawl and both of them do great in those. Most of the named Shiketsu students could help here, as they all seem pretty effective when it comes to crowd control. Camie could distract people with her various illusions, Mora could wash over his foes in a wave of hair, and Seiji could leave people as literally chunks of meat on the battlefield. Inasa especially would be greater here given how much power he has over the environment, which could pair with how well Pixie Bob controls the land, making neither safe for the enemy.

UA High: This team is really good. Bakugou and Miruko are both extremely fast, rush down fighters. Nejire can fly and output a lot of damage with her beams. Edgeshot is one of the fastest heroes around. And Best Jeanist has great control over the battlefield. So it's a good mix of speed and damage output from this team with some battlefield control, not giving Tomura any time to think or recover. Tamaki seems out of place here at first. While strong, most of his showings are those of a melee fighter who relies more on his ability to adapt, being more of a jack of all trades. He doesn't have the same kind of speed or damage output to work well with these other fighters. However, we do see some signs of him adapting, such as him growing a pair of grasshopper legs in order to keep up with his teammates. And we can’t forget the invaluable role of support from Manual, Monoma, and Aizawa that they are playing on the sidelines.

As for any additions, I would consider Pony. She has a lot of good range and battlefield control with her horns, especially with how expendable they are. So she could fill a similar role to Edgeshot, both in dealing damage and moving Tomura around. Shoda might work out. Since there doesn't seem to be a limit on how many impacts he can have active, he could just trap the entire area with impacts to mess up Tomura if he happens to land on or near one. I may also consider Snipe. While bullets may not be that effective against Tomura now, I think that having such a reliable source of damage against Tomura would still be helpful. That and because I think it would be hilarious to see Tomura try to fight someone only to be shot by Snipe again. And, of course, Mirio would be downright invaluable here and it’s kind of insane that he isn’t here yet, if at all. Not only because of his speed and attack power works really well here, but he has one of the few Quirks capable of countering "Decay".

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