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#anyway i was writing this last night
jade-len · 4 months
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please help i just had a dream where svsss was a dating sim. so, of course i tried pursuing shen qingqiu, but it ultimately backfired because suddenly he realized that he was in a dating visual novel?? and since i put myself as a guy, he just refused to show up to special in game events to avoid me interacting with him???
and obviously i was like "wtf why isn't he here?" when he didn't show up. then at some point i explored the area, and the screen suddenly zoomed in to show sqq talking to sqh (supposedly telling him all about the little situation). next thing i know, both of them are slowly turning their head to stare at the screen in pure and utter terror
also in some part of the dream, i think i did some liu qingge events or something and as his affection levels rose, he would continuously jump scare me by popping up out of nowhere and go, "its not like i like you or anything!!" while covered in blood and holding out a demonic beast head as if it were a box of treats
anyways, totally random question guys haha if i made an svsss visual novel dating sim would you guys play it. no reason in particular at all.
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luxaofhesperides · 3 months
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Can I please have meet cute/weird with mistaken villain! Danny (but really just a engineer and or chem student) and the one being put on investigation cause Danny is a day villain(not really)! Duke
Technically, Danny Fenton is innocent. Technically. 
Duke wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’s having so much trouble finding solid evidence that Danny is stealing from a wide variety of people, but he’s been burned before by trying to see people as better than they were. It doesn’t change the fact that Oracle’s cameras keep spotting Danny right before a building on the street is broken into and something stolen. He’s always just walking down the sidewalk; no one has spotted him entering or exiting a building, but he’s around far too often to be unconnected to these burglaries. 
It doesn’t help that strange, petty crimes have been on the rise since Danny first arrived in Gotham. 
So.
Danny Fenton is technically innocent.
Duke is trying to prove that he’s not. 
Maybe I’m looking too closely, he thinks, going over Danny’s sparse file in the Hatch. Maybe Danny’s only one person in a bigger operation.
He could just be the lookout, the runner, the information gatherer who marks which buildings to hit. He may even be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb; Danny has no support in Gotham, no family, no job. There would be no one to help him if he got arrested or injured in a fight. He’s a freshman college student from Illinois who should be unprepared for life in Gotham but is somehow managing to survive like a native. 
There’s a lot about Danny that doesn’t add up. 
Duke has seen plenty of different people since he first went out as the Signal. He’s tried to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt, but it leads to his loved ones being put in danger. Some people are truly evil, some working on a malicious agenda, some are misguided in their beliefs, and some are desperate people who see no other way to move forward.
He’s not sure yet which on Danny is, but he’s hoping Danny is just desperate and needs a little help to get out of a life of crime.
Which leads to the next problem: Duke has no idea what Danny is steal, or why. He hits both rich and poor folks, civilians and members of the mob, and once, notably, stole something right out of Cobblepot’s office. Allegedly, at least, since no one saw him enter or exit the office, not even the security cameras. 
But added to the whispers going around about a new group in Gotham snatching people up from the streets, and some strange green substances found in warehouses often raided by police for the frequent drug labs that pop up in them… 
It doesn’t look good for Danny. Especially when a few of the items he stole were found where people either vanished or where that green substance has been found.
A week of analysis in the Batcave and they still don’t know what it is. 
Both Damian and Jason suspected Lazarus water, but the composition was completely different. By the look of the molecular structure, it shouldn’t have been in a liquid form at all. 
All these findings lead back to one person who may have answers: Danny Fenton.
According to Tim, who’s already broken into Danny’s dorm room and checked over all the labs he has classes in, Danny has some concerning items in his possession. Various inventions and little metal knick-knacks put together by a practiced hand. He was also the one to find all the information that went into Danny’s file when it was first being made: social media posts, school report cards, news articles about his parents… everything. 
And then he had an emergency mission to take with the Titans that swept him out of Gotham leaving Duke to tackle this investigation on his own. 
He doesn’t have Tim’s natural skill in stalking and invading privacy. He hates breaking into people’s spaces and following them around, but needs must and he has to force himself to work through the discomfort. 
It’s a good thing he did, too. Danny’s leaving his dorm after his last afternoon class, hood up to hide his face and something held in the front pocket of his hoodie. He ducks around people on the sidewalk easily, almost as if he’s gliding through the crowd instead of walking. 
Duke follows from above, bending the light around him to hide him from sight. 
He walks for some time, weaving through alleys and streets as if he’s been in Gotham his whole life, leaving behind the university campus to head towards Otisberg. There’s something strange about the way Danny walks, as if he’s moving around people who aren’t there, guided by something Duke can’t hear. Even using his meta abilities doesn’t do much beyond show him where Danny’s going to be in the next few seconds. 
He continues to follow Danny on the rooftops, walking along the edge to keep him in sight. 
Then Danny stops behind an apartment building and tilts his head back to look up at it. He tilts his head to the side, then nods and looks around the empty alley. Duke crouches down, keeping his eyes on Danny in the hopes of catching him in the act—
Danny disappears.
Duke curses under his breath and jumps down from the roof, putting more strength into his abilities as soon as his feet touch the ground. 
The space where Danny was has a faint outline, oddly enough. He’s never seen that before. From it is a semi-transparent trail, smoke-like and a pale green leading into the building. It goes straight into a wall, as if Danny walked through it.
He can’t go in and search the entire apartment, but he can grapple up and take a look into the hallways to see where Danny’s heading. If he was looking up, then that’s where he should be heading. 
It doesn’t take any effort to scale the building. There are ledges and windowsills and plenty of handholds for him to propel himself off of, and paired with his powers, Duke is able to find the correct floor in just under two minutes. 
The green smoke slowly dances through the air of the ninth floor, on the east side of the building. If he’s been counting the rooms correctly, then the target of tonight’s burglary has to be apartment 924. 
The curtains are drawn on the window he makes his way over to, and his abilities don’t show him anything helpful for the immediate future. He hates going in blind, especially to a civilian’s home, but capturing Danny takes priority. Duke picks the lock and slides the window up slowly, making sure it stays quiet, then slips into an empty bedroom. 
He makes his way out into the hallway on silent feet, keeping a wary eye on the thin smoke strands of green, curling along the walls. The rest of the apartment is empty as well, pale sunlight slanting across the floor through the blinds. 
Everything is still and silent. Danny’s nowhere to be found. 
Did he miss Danny leaving, somehow? Was this a misdirect to get him out of the way while Danny stole from another location? Did he know Duke was following him?
But no, his ears pick up on the faint sound of clothes rustling. 
Cautiously, Duke turns towards the front door, where the door to the coat closet is open. He focuses on what’s going to happen in the next twenty seconds and sees Danny panic, then disappear from sight again, but a transparent outline of his body is visible just enough to show him where he runs to. Best not to spook him; Duke pulls at the light around him and bends it to hide him from sight.
Then he moves along the wall, getting around the open door without bumping into anyone or anything. 
A figure in front of the coats, shoving them to the side roughly, flickers in and out of view, almost like a reflection in water, distorted by ripples on the surface. 
Danny pops back into visibility suddenly, scowling at the coats. “Are you sure it’s in here?” he asks the empty air. 
There is no answer, but Danny acts like there is. He rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a favor. That I’m doing for you. I can literally stop right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He shoves aside another heavy winter coat, then sighs. “Why don’t you look for it, and then tell me where it is.”
He steps back and bumps into Duke.
Danny whirls around, eyes wide, and blast of green light has Duke crashing back into the wall, trying to blink spots out of his eyes. 
“Wait!” he yells, grabbing for Danny before he can run off. “I just wanna talk!”
“Standing right behind me like a serial killer does not make you look like someone who wants to talk!” Danny yells back, slipping through his hands like mist. 
“I just have a few questions!”
“Well, I have a question: why?!”
“Will you hold still, we’re being too loud!”
Danny escapes to the other side of the apartment, next to a window looking fully prepared to fling himself out of it. But he does stop yelling, so Duke is counting it as a success.
“Why is the Signal coming after me?” Danny asks, glaring at him suspiciously.
“Dude,” Duke says, “You’ve been seen outside of every single building that’s had a burglary since you first arrived in Gotham. All the Bats are after you, they just sent me because I’m the only one active during the day.”
“All the Bats?” Danny repeats, losing what little color he had in his face.
He looks legitimately scared, pale enough to be concerning, and Duke drops his guard and tries to relax the tension in the apartment. “I’m not gonna turn you into the cops or anything. I just had questions and you seem like the most likely person to have answers. That’s it.”
Danny still looks wary, ready to run at a moment’s notice, but he doesn’t leave when Duke approached casually, leaning his weight against the couch. 
“So,” he begins, “What’s the deal with all the thievery? It’s rarely something super rare or expensive.”
There’s a long few minutes where Danny doesn’t answer, looking anywhere but at Duke. Then he twitches a bit and glares off to the side, and says, “I taking items that are contaminated with ectoplasm to help ghosts move through the veil and leave Gotham.”
That tells him nothing! That just gives Duke more questions! But at least it’s an answer, the first one any of them have got.
“I think you’re gonna have to explain a little more.”
“Ghosts are real, alright?”
“Yes.”
Danny stops. Squints at him. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”
“Ghosts are real,” Duke repeats, “There are a few who help heroes or are heroes themselves, but that’s more on the magic side of things so I’m not super familiar with it.”
“Magic,” Danny says slowly. “Sure, alright. Um. Yes, ghosts are real. And there are a ton in Gotham who need help moving on, but they’re too weak to get past the veil. Something about Gotham has made the veil super strong, so they need a little boost to get through. Additional ectoplasm bonded helps with that.”
“And that’s why you’re stealing random things?”
“The ghosts I help can kind of sense ectoplasm-infused things, but they need me to grab them since they can’t hold anything without a physical body.”
Duke nods slowly. “Okay, that’s starting to answer some things. We have found those objects in the last places missing people were seen. Any idea what’s going on with that?”
“Yeah, those people were already dead.”
The way Danny says the most concerning answers as if they’re nothing is really throwing Duke off his game. He was expecting to be calm and serious to keep Danny from freaking out too much and look like a legitimate hero. But as soon as Danny started talking, all his nerves fell away and Duke is left grasping for composure. 
“They were…”
“They were ghosts, yeah. And they needed to get through the veil. But they were also able to possess their own bodies and didn’t realize they were dead until I had to break the news to them, which is why it looks like living people just up and disappeared.”
“Okay… What about the green stuff we’ve been finding?”
“Ectoplasm.” Danny holds up a hand and a neon green light surrounds it. Except it looks more solid than light, as if it can be touched, and it moves on its own like fire around Danny’s fingers. “It’s what ghosts are made of.”
Oh. If Danny has ectoplasm, does that mean…
“Are you dead?” Duke asks, heart dropping. 
Instead of looking upset about the question, or even disturbed by it, Danny just shrugs and waves his hand back and forth. “A little.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Duke says, trying to resist the urge to rub his temples. It’s a habit he didn’t mean to pick up from Batman, and it would just look silly with his helmet in the way. “You’re just doing all this to help ghosts?”
“Yeah. Basically. They asked for help man, of course I was going to help them.”
Danny’s a good person. He’s just a good person to ghosts. But this is good news either way, and he can let the others know that Danny isn’t the next Catwoman and is entirely unconnected from any drug production. Everything that made him look like a criminal is just the fault of ghosts. 
“Speaking of,” Danny continues, “Looks like they found what they need, so I’m going to grab that real quick.” He pushes off of the wall and heads for the closet again, moving past Duke without any fear. Duke follows, keeping a few feet of distance between them so Danny doesn’t feel trapped, and watches as he shoves aside the coats again and pulls a shoebox out of the depths of the closet. From it, he takes a single intricate lace headband and holds it up.
It looks normal, if a little old, but when Danny sends ectoplasm through it, the lace lights up and holds the glow. 
He pulls some strange contraption out of his pocket and holds it up to the headband. It makes a few beeps, then Danny mutters, “7.4 millisieverts. That’s enough to get you through the veil.”
Another concern Duke can let go of: Danny’s not creating weapons like his parents have, he’s just measuring ectoplasm through his own inventions. 
Maybe he could talk to Bruce or Tim about getting Danny an internship at the R&D lab in Wayne Enterprises? That way they could keep a closer eye on him while seeing what he can create in some of the best laboratories in the country.
Well, it might take having them meet Danny before they trust him enough for that, but Duke is sure he can make it happen. 
“I better go see this through, then,” Danny says, shoving the contraption back into his hoodie pocket. He gives Duke a small awkward wave, then pops out of visibility. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he disembodied voice hedges, and Duke smiles.
“I’m sure I’ll be able to find you again.”
“Cool. I gonna go now!” 
He doesn’t see any sign that Danny’s left, but he gets a feeling that he’s alone now, the apartment suddenly emptier than it was before. 
As strange and concerning as Danny and all his bizarre actions were, Duke is glad he was able to finally talk to him and get some answers. Knowing how Gotham pulls people him in, it’s only a matter of time before the other Bats are exposed to Danny’s kind of strange. He’s already looking forward to it. 
For now, though, he has a file to update in the Hatch; POTENTIAL THREAT will be removed and replaced with GHOST HELPER. 
If anyone goes snooping into his files and gets confused, then that’s their problem. Duke’s explained enough. And Danny can take care of the rest, once they go through the effort of tracking him down. Duke's done his part, he's ready for the rest of them to step up to his level.
He can’t wait to see what other kind of trouble Danny can get it into.
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kaladinkholins · 4 months
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We all already know Mizu and Akemi are narrative foils. But you know what? Lemme just say it, here's what I think:
Taigen and Mikio are foils.
Not necessarily to each other as individuals in the way that Mizu and Akemi juxtapose each other, but mostly in the contrast between their relationships with Mizu.
I've covered specific parallels between Taigen and Mikio in other posts I wrote; but as the number of parallels I'm noticing between them keeps piling up, I'm compelled to just compile them all in one post. So! This is, thus, the post in question.
First of all, let's look at their similarities.
1. Their status in society is the same. They are both samurai who lost their honour and have dreams of reclaiming it.
2. They are also both diligent as they strive to achieve this goal, they both care deeply about their work, but here as they begin to contrast, as the work in question and way they go about their goals is different:
For Mikio, his work is in taming and rearing horses; in order to prove himself, he must tame Kai—a willful and strong horse—and present it to his lord. For Taigen, his work is in sword fighting and martial arts; in order to prove himself, he must kill Mizu—a willful and strong swordsman—and present her dead body to his lord.
In the parallel above, not only are Taigen and Mikio contrasting each other, but Mizu and Kai are placed in comparison as well. And of course, Kai is Mizu's horse, and represents her. Which is why, when later, Mikio sells Kai off, it represents the way he is tossing Mizu (and their relationship) aside.
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From there, the rest of the details of their character begin to contrast and juxtapose each other more clearly. So let's look at those differences, shall we?
Their backstory:
Mikio was a great samurai who was banished. A somebody to a nobody. Taigen was a fisherman’s son who rose to the top. A nobody to a somebody.
2. The first time we meet them on-screen:
Mikio is an adult. An older man. Mizu's superior in age. He is Mizu's to-be husband. A love interest. Taigen is a child. A young boy. Mizu's peer in age. He is Mizu's bully. An antagonist.
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3. Their maturity and growth:
Mikio is mature, but stuck in his ways. Taigen is immature, but capable of changing and learning.
4. Their overall attitude:
Mikio is generally relaxed, easy-going and unfussy. Taigen is uptight, irritable and severe.
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5. How they talk to and conduct themselves around Mizu:
Mikio is aloof, soft-spoken, and serious. Taigen is obnoxious, brash, and sarcastic. Mikio is quiet, speaking only when spoken to, even when Mizu turns to smile at him and shows openness to be near him. Taigen is loud, talking while others are silent, even when Mizu turns from him and shows no interest in conversing with him.
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Mikio doesn't show much of who he is to Mizu throughout their marriage, despite their growing affection. Taigen openly shares his traumas and life story to Mizu during their brief alliance, despite their mutual antagonism.
6. Their external vs internal selves:
Mikio is calm, gentle, and considerate on the outside. Taigen is hot-headed, rude, and selfish on the outside. Mikio is cowardly and deceitful on the inside. Taigen is brave and loyal to a fault on the inside. Mikio tells Mizu that he wants to know and see all of her. But he scorns and betrays her, the woman he loves. Taigen tells Mizu that he wants to duel and kill him. But he endures torture to not betray him, the man he hates.
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9. Their hair, a symbol of their honour:
Mikio's topknot is untied by Mizu during their spar. This humiliation occurs in private, the two of them alone in a rural location where no one can see them. Taigen's topknot is cut off by Mizu during their duel. This humiliation occurs in public, the two of them being watched by many others in the Shindo Dojo.
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10. Their power dynamic with Mizu:
Mikio believes he is Mizu's mentor. He teaches her to throw knives, how to ride and care for horses, and about the tactical benefits of using a naginata. Taigen believes he is Mizu's equal. He views Mizu as a samurai like himself who received all the same teachings he did, and who possesses the same values.
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11. Their perceptions of Mizu:
Mikio sees Mizu's feminine side first. He sees her as sweet and gentle, but also clumsy and incompetent. Taigen sees Mizu's masculine side first. He sees her as terrifying and deadly, but also strong and skilled.
12. The way they approach sparring with Mizu:
Mikio only spars with Mizu once. As the fight progresses and she is beating him, he tries to put a stop to it. When she teases/provokes him, he starts taking the fight personally and seriously, finding no enjoyment in it. Taigen spars and brawls with Mizu all the time. No matter how many times Mizu beats him, he doesn't back down. When Mizu challenges him with a chopstick, he is eager to compete with her and gladly rises up to the challenge.
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Mikio and Mizu's one and only spar is a friendly match; Mizu is smiling and having fun while he grows increasingly frustrated. Taigen and Mizu's last-seen spar is a playful wrestling match; both him and Mizu are having fun and laughing.
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Mikio cannot deal with Mizu being better than him, so he scorns her and walks off, avoiding her thereafter. When Taigen cannot deal with Mizu being better than him, he follows her to observe her moves and continues training in hopes to eventually beat her. After being bested by Mizu once, Mikio leaves her and sells the horse he'd previously gifted to her. After many times losing to Mizu and fighting alongside her, Taigen commends her and admits she is better than him.
13. When Mizu pins them down in a friendly spar:
Mikio sees Mizu's whole face objectively. Taigen stares at Mizu's mouth and eyes.
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Mikio gets angry when she kisses him, throwing her off of him and snapping at her, calling her a monster. Taigen gets aroused, apologising, so she pulls herself off of him.
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14. Mizu's blue meteorite sword is a reflection of her soul. She believes most are undeserving to face it, let alone hold it. And on that note:
Mikio is the first person (chronologically) that Mizu fights against using her sword. Taigen is the first person (we see on-screen) that Mizu fights against with her sword. Mikio is the first person (chronologically) to ever hold her sword, as she passes it to him, letting him wield it. Taigen is the first person (we see on-screen) to ever hold her sword, as she passes out, and he picks it up and carries it for her.
15. Then, last but not least, in Fowler's fortress, when she is drugged and in pain, she hears Ringo's voice in the dungeon. She then follows it to an open cell:
Mizu first sees Mikio as a hallucination, the sight of him haunting her and causing her to lose her grip on reality. Her eyes glow a surreal blue to represent this. Her Mama appears then and says Mizu's name accusingly.
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Mizu then sees Taigen, but he is real, the sight of him a relief and grounding her back to reality. Her eyes return to their normal blue colour to represent this. Taigen looks at Mizu weakly and says her name softly.
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Then, later, when facing Fowler, her revenge awaiting her, she instead chooses to follow her conscience (represented by Ringo's voice in her mind), putting aside her vengeance for a time, in order to save Taigen.
So that's basically all the ones I've noticed so far, but even then, I feel there's already so much that forms a contrast between these two.
What makes it especially incredible about these juxtapositions is that Mikio was Mizu's husband, the man she had fallen in love with, the one person she had ever been intimate with, the man who made her begin to accept herself, to put down her desire for vengeance and instead live a life of peace and happiness.
So for Taigen to have so many parallels with him... Do you see what I'm saying here!
Not to mention that Mizu clearly already has some burgeoning attraction to him, as indicated by how she thinks of him when asked about her desires. And Taigen clearly has shown interest as well (see: him getting a boner after their spar, him holding her hand and telling her, "We're not done yet.").
And on the topic of speculating future possibilities of this relationship, this post by @stromblessed has pointed out yet another parallel between Taigen and Mikio:
Mizu promises Taigen to meet him for their duel in autumn. Mizu fell in love with Mikio and duelled him during autumn.
With all that said, I do believe Mizu and Taigen's relationship is definitely hurtling towards something. But whether they will actually end up together in a sustainable relationship and have a happily ever after? Well, that is a whole other story; we'll just have to wait and see.
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crybaby-bkg · 1 year
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I loveee the concept of reincarnation bc it’s just so comforting!!!
oh to be reincarnated lovers with Bakugou where you find each other every life time and leave a memory of the other to find in the next lifetime. You see each other in a new lifetime, drawn to each other, swearing familiarity even though your minds disagree. But it’s something deeper within you that knows each other, misses the others embrace, and you can’t figure out why.
There’s a famous painting of someone who looks suspiciously like you made in the 1600s by some tortured artist, the muse a lover he had lost years before. There’s a statue that looks just like Bakugou from the 1800s, who everyone thought to be created after Apollo, but you beg to differ. There are letters found between two lovers, one gone off to war and the other at home, their exchange of love something poets discuss in contemporary times. Theres even skeletons found embracing each other, with one’s head tucked into the others neck.
And for some reason, every time, these figments of love appeal to you deeper than anyone else around you. They’re so familiar, and you think you might be going crazy when flashes of memories start to plague you.
Sitting in a darkly lit room, a slate of white marble in front of you, a point chisel in hand. There’s a blond man sitting behind the marble, with a sly grin, as your hands raise to start chipping away at its flawless perfection.
Sitting at home, writing away with a quilled pen to a lover you miss. Kissing the edge of the paper and pulling away to find it stained with red from your lips.
Laying in the soft grass, your face hidden in a strong neck as heavy winds start to take over you. Your arms entangled in another’s, tilting your face up to kiss a blond, stubbled jaw.
When Bakugou tells you he remembers the same things, you wonder if you’re both just on a bad trip from a drug you don’t remember taking. But you carve your names in tree trunks and wonder if you’ll find find it again hundreds of years later, if you’ll see him again, if you’ll create another piece of your unyielding love on every crevice of the earth.
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starry-bi-sky · 4 months
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Clone^2 - graveyard shift
The dinging of the door alerts Sarah of someone walking in, and she barely glances up from her phone to see who it is. It's past midnight and somehow her coworker John managed to convince her to take over his graveyard shift at their convenience store. He owes her one, because she's been standing here for an hour and nobody's come in.
Not a surprise to her - nobody likes to stay out past sundown in Amity Park, even after nearly three years of ghosts appearing all over the place.
But still, it happens sometimes. So she doesn't look up. The dinging bell just lets her know that it's not a ghost, and that's really all she can ask for. The last time she worked late and a ghost came in, she was cleaning the shelves from some weird goo for an hour.
However, the lack of footsteps in the store after a few seconds worries her enough that she forces her head to lift. And a frown weaves its way onto her face when she sees no one at the door, nor anyone in the closet aisles.
...Shit, was there really a ghost here? Can they ring door when they come in? Normally she sees them just phase right through. And normally they glow, bright and jarring that leaves a migraine building behind Sarah's eyes.
Her eyes quickly scan the shelves again, looking for anything out of place -- anyone with too many heads, or too many teeth, or snakes for hair. She's pretty sure a coworker saw that once when they were working graveyard.
But she still sees no one. Apprehension raises the hair on the back of her neck, and she straightens up from her lean against the counter. Fuuuck. Was this one of those... marshmallow ghosts? An animal ghost?
Sarah really does not want to have to fight off a three-eyed raccoon looking-thing with eagle feet. She's heard the horror stories. And there was no way to contact the Phantom or the Red Huntress to come pick it up -- and she wasn't gonna try her luck with the Drs. Fentons.
Her fingers itch for the broom hanging on the wall behind her. It probably won't do much against a mutant raccoon-ghost-monster, but it'll make her feel better.
There's a rustle and crinkle in the candy aisle, and Sarah's hands are curled around the broom before she could blink. Her heart beating in her chest. She walks out from the counter, the bristled end raised like a bat in the air as she creeps apprehensively towards the noise.
There's nothing there when she peers around the side, and the aisle shelves are tall enough that she can't see over them.
She raises the broom higher. Sarah was in softball. She could take out a raccoon-eagle-hybrid.. thing.... easily. She just... needs to pretend its a golf ball. Except golf isn't softball so that's a terrible comparison.
Oh god she was gonna get her face ripped off, wasn't she.
John so owes her one. So much.
Creeping down the aisle, she keeps her ears perked for any new sounds. But all she can really hear is the soft pop music playing on the store speakers -- chosen by yours truly from her own personal playlist -- and the hum of the freezers. Ugh. This was not good for her paranoia. Like, at all.
Sarah's down at the end of the aisle when she feels a quick set of taps on her shoulder. Her nerves are already shot, so she shrieks and whirls around on her foot, swinging the broom blindly.
Only to be met with sudden and blunt resistance. Blinking rapidly, Sarah stares up and sees a black gloved hand gripping the broom handle tightly, small white bandages peeking over the side around five fingers. Following the hand down connects it with an arm, and then a chest, and suddenly she's staring at a black hoodie and black jacket.
When she tilts her head up, Sarah comes face to face with the bone-white mask and the terrifying, unearthly green eyes of their local vigilante, the Phantom.
...Holy fuck. It was the Phantom.
He was taller than she initially thought. Was her jaw on the ground? Probably. It was flapping like a fish out of water. "I- uh, you-- buh--"
Slowly, the Phantom raised his free hand and wrapped it around the handle of the broom. Sarah watches, wide eyed still and stammering as he firmly plucked the broom out of her hands and turned to lean it against the shelves.
Something about him doing that must've kicked her brain back into gear, because the first thing that comes out of her mouth is; "Your eyes are really green."
And she was going to lock herself in the freezer in the back for that one. She feels her face grow hot with embarrassment, and the Phantom only looks at her blankly. Her eyes shift nervously. "Well, it's true."
It was! The green eyes of the Phantom was his most defining feature other than that unsettling mask he wore. Especially considering they were the same color as some of the ghosts. It was one of the many, many creepy things about the guy.
Looking at it gave her the same, faint headache as when she stared at a ghost for too long. So Sarah drops her gaze a little to avoid it.
The Phantom remains silent, but he raises his hands and signs something to her that she doesn't understand. Fuck, that's right. He didn't speak - and Sarah doesn't know any ASL.
Sarah cringes. "Sorry, I don't know ASL."
She can feel his burning green eyes boring into her, and he remains as silent as the grave as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a phone in a plain black case. She watches him turn it on -- or at least she assumes he does, there's a privacy protector covering the screen -- and type something into.
He holds it up to her face when he's done, and she squints at the screen. In the notes app, a small text reads; 'We're ready to pay.'
..Oh. This wasn't Sarah's night. Embarrassment flashes hot through her and she forces out a laugh in order to try and quell it, Phantom shoves the phone back into his pocket. "Oh! Oh, right! I'm sorry, I'll uh- get up to the front--" She stops in her tracks.
Wait. Did that message say 'we?'
She smiles nervously, tilting her head up at the Phantom as her brows thread together. "Um," she swallows dryly, "we?" Didn't... didn't the Phantom work alone?
As if startled, the Phantom jerks. And for the first time since he showed up, he blinks and turns around. Which personally, doesn't bode that well as the Phantom swivels his head from side to side like he's looking for someone.
Sarah thinks, after the Phantom stalks up to the end of the aisle and looks around, she hears him sigh. And when he walks back, he snatches the broom with an elegant twist and knocks it against the shelves.
Thud, thud, thud!
There's very, very quiet shuffling that Sarah would have missed if she hadn't been looking for it, and then silence for a few seconds, before suddenly there's a small child pushing past her side and over to the Phantom.
And in the process, scaring the shit out of Sarah.
She squeaks and jumps, nearly tripping over her own feet as the child makes a spot next to the Phantom's side. "Where did you come from?!" She says, her heart pounding against her ribcage.
The child says nothing, just stares at her through a creepy bone-white mask reminiscent of the Phantom's. Although unlike the Phantom, he was wearing some... kind of... dark red ninja outfit?
Sarah really wasn't quite sure. It was partially covered by a jacket that clearly belonged to the Phantom and with the sleeves rolled up multiple times to his elbows. The jacket alone nearly obscured the sword attached to his hip.
...Why the hell did the child have a sword.
She looks between Phantom and the child, at a loss for words. Why-- why did the Phantom have a kid with him, why was the kid wearing a mask like his.
"You have a child with you." Sarah says bluntly, her voice flat. It betrays how shocked she feels. The Phantom doesn't say anything, as she should have expected, but he does nod shortly.
The child bristles slightly, but says nothing. Part of his mouth was uncovered, and she watched it twist downward into a scowl at her. Unlike the Phantom, his eyes were not green. She couldn't see his eyes at all, actually. They were shadowed by the mask.
There's the sound of paper thwipping, and like a magician pulling out a card, the Phantom holds out a note card to her. He stares, expectantly, and Sarah reluctantly takes it.
Written in neat writing and bold sharpie are the words; "This is Wraith."
...And that's it. Sarah glances up at Phantom. Then at the supposed 'Wraith'. Then back at Phantom. "You're bringing a child with you to ghost hunt?" She asks, and okay, maybe she's not able to hide all of the judgement leaking into her voice. "And you gave him a sword?"
The Phantom stares at her blankly, or well, probably blankly. All of his expressions are unreadable with the mask he wears. But the kid, Wraith, bristles again like a stray cat. His scowl deepens, he puffs up, and he opens his mouth like he's about to say something.
...Only for the Phantom to immediately snap his hand out and cover his mouth. Wraith makes an angry sound, and Phantom drags the boy into his side, seemingly nonplussed as he twists his wrist and pulls another note card out of nowhere.
"He is perfectly capable of handling himself." The card reads, and then continues; "I would not have been able to stop him anyways. Wraith would have followed me regardless."
Did he have these prepared?
Best not to question it, Sarah decides. The Phantom has always been strange. So she just nods mutely and stuffs the two notecards into her back pocket. "Okay," she says, and moves around the Phantom. "I'll check you out up front."
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rikkivoid · 1 year
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winter kiss
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muffinlance · 3 months
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Oh Susanna
Oh don't you cry for me
For I went to Alabama with a chainsaw on my knee
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yikesharringrove · 1 month
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hi i've missed you!
can we do something soft and just cute like going for drives and getting fast food and just talking?
“I’m picking you up,” came the crackling voice from the walkie talkie on the nightstand. “Meet me at the spot in ten. Over.”
“No, you freakazoid,” Steve barely moved from his blanket cocoon, only reaching one arm out to press the button on the side. “I’m asleep.”
“Clearly not. I’m on my way, Shithead. Over and out.”
Steve rolled his eyes, and contemplated going back to sleep for all of five seconds before he sighed, and heaved himself to standing.
Curse Billy for stealing that walkie from Max, for suggesting they stay on their own channel, different than the ones the kids use. Curse Billy for his insomnia and his late night drives. Curse Billy for the way he keeps on hand on Steve’s thigh while they go and always stops at the nearest drive-thru to get Steve a milkshake and wolf down a double cheeseburger (because his dad slapped him and sent him to his room without dinner. Again.)
Steve trudged around the side of his house, crashing through the well-worn path through the sparse trees to the road on the other side.
They both agreed that Billy’s car shouldn’t be spotted outside of Steve’s house, even if they were publicly friends now.
The Camaro was rumbling up the street, and Steve could practically feel the road of the engine shake in his chest before he could even spot the headlights.
Doesn’t matter how many speeding tickets Officer Callahan gives him, Billy’s never gonna be a sensible driver.
He stops in front of Steve, and he grins as Steve joins him in the car, leaning over the center console and burying his left hand in thick, dark brown hair to kiss Steve in a way that steals the breath from his lungs.
“You owe me.”
“Yeah, yeah, Princess. I’ll get you a damn milkshake.”
The car lurched forward, and they flew down the service roads, flipping off the Leaving Hawkins sign as they went past, on their way to a different little town.
A different little slice of life.
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garlicbreadslice · 5 days
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Do you guys ever think about Kevin Day. About the number on his cheek. About the horrors he survived to keep it there. The physical and psychological torture that he endured just so he could have the shiny number 2 tattooed on his cheekbone. How brave he was to go through all that.
How brave he must have been to let it go.
To say: I’m giving up my number, the one I’ve dehumanized and killed myself over. I’m giving it up, but my suffering for it wasn’t in vain.
To realize that he didn’t deserve the number 2, not because he was no longer second best without the Ravens, but because he had always been better than all of them.
He was the deadliest piece on the board.
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lover-of-mine · 3 months
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nothing safe is worth the drive
Pairing: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz (911)
Word Count: 2,1k
And, sure, it took Buck way too long to realize what he was feeling. To name it. To try to understand it. But he's here now. And can't keep not doing something about it. So he's doing something about it. He's getting in the goddamn car. Who cares if it's almost midnight? Who cares if they're just out of a 24-hour shift? Who cares if he doesn't know for sure the answer he's gonna get? He's doing it. He's gonna say it. Put his feelings out in the world. Evan Buckley is in love with Eddie Diaz. And he's gonna tell him. or Buck decides he needs to confess his feelings and drives over in the middle of the night.
read it on ao3
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crow-with-a-pencil · 1 year
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@naffeclipse
Them ❤️
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gojonanami · 1 month
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i started writing prof geto (5) and i thought about making a joke post like
"writing prof geto (5) #teamyuta"
but then i was like....i'm not trying to scare people
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crybaby-bkg · 2 years
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I love jealous Bakugou who starts peacocking after a while to get all of your attention.
going to a party and Kiri carelessly picks you up to spin you during a dance, drunken laughter shared between you two. Bakugou watches on the couch the whole time, eyes slitted as he nurses the same beer he’s had all night. he listens to you giggle over the music about how strong Kiri is and—fuck it, he’ll show you strength. he takes the opportunity to scoop you off of your feet next time you guys are out and there’s a puddle in the middle of the road, puffs his chest out a little as he cradles you against him, when you let out that lighthearted giggle but for him this time.
Bakugou catches you chatting deku up, squeezing at his biceps when you tease him about how big he’s been getting. you only do it bc you know it flusters the green haired man, and you think it’s cute how he looks like a strawberry whenever you coo at him. But Bakugou only sees that as the push to go to the gym more, focusing even more on his arms, wearing all of his tanks around you. puffs his chest out again when he puts his arms behind his head and you pat at the bulging muscle and find yourself tracing the veins on his arms.
He sees you dancing with Sero at another squad gathering, something fast and sensual, your arms around his neck while he holds your waist. his face is buried into your neck and it makes you giggle whenever he whispers where to move your feet next. and does Bakugou take that as an active threat against his crush on you? of course he does. finds himself holding you against him at a party, swaying with you, way out of his comfort zone but he wants to show you that he can dance too, damnit.
Denki makes some offhanded comment about holding your bags when you go out to an amusement park, something else about going with you when you need the bathroom too. Bakugou is most definitely shoving him out of the way, manhandling all of your bags from you as he pushes you in the direction of the bathrooms instead. finds his chest practically spilling out of his shirt when you hug him by the end of the night, thanking him for being so kind, telling him that he’s the best friend you could ask for.
and does his heart drop to his ass when he hears the word friend? maybe. just a little.
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misssmeat · 3 months
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Playing her body like an instrument. Her every curve paired with my every touch makes music to my ears.
Watching her writhe and squirm.
She’s begging for more. She’s begging for me.
Making her scream and shake and cry.
The best part though? Knowing I get to do all over again tonight.
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actual-changeling · 1 year
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probably projecting but idc but imagine ellie having a little crisis once they're in jackson and thinking that eventually joel will leave her cause she becomes too much of a burden/too annoying/too whatever and starts pushing his boundaries.
being more rude, being mean, behaving badly, trying everything to push him away cause she would rather figure it out now and have it be her doing instead of joel suddenly leaving her when she isn't prepared for it.
joel is incredibly confused by wtf ellie is doing cause to him it's all out of nowhere but he just assumes she's struggling and does not budge no matter what, he stays calm, lets her do whatever she wants, gives her what she asks for, even fights tommy and maria when they're like "parent ur child" and he just goes "shut tf up she is going through a thing and you will let her"
and eventually ellie reaches her breaking point and just yells at him before she starts sobbing "why dont you leave me already why are you still here i dont understand" and joel holds her face and goes "i wont ever leave you cause you're mine" (theyre too emotionally repressed to reach the ur my kid/dad stage just yet so he does the same thing he did with tess)
anyway they hug a lot and they talk it out in their own way and are happy nothing bad ever happens to the tlou 2 doesnt exist the end
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skyward-floored · 6 months
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Whumptober Day 20: Found family, Blanket
*shuffles feet*
...in my defense, I almost entirely finished this yesterday, I just wasn’t about to go trying to edit and post it at like 11:30 at night (though this note probably would have been a lot more interesting if I had lol).
Anyway. Continuation to day 17! I apologize for the delay and hope the wait was worth it 😓
Day 17
Read on ao3
Warnings: same as day 17, injuries, torture mentions, a short nightmare, just bad times for Twilight
————————————————————
Getting out was a blur.
Link forced himself to stay awake as the leader of the heroes (had he even said his name? ...If he had he couldn’t remember) carried him, but focusing on much of anything was difficult. The ever-present pain weighed him down like a heavy load, old scars and new injuries adding endless layers of suffering, and even just being carried in someone’s arms was agony.
There was the leftover burn from the magic too— though the chains that had secured him were gone, the manacles were still on his wrists and the collar was still around his neck, and they ached, his whole body still shaking from the ordeal of removing the chains.
It was a struggle not to just pass out.
But the part of him that still screamed not to trust stay on alert be prepared for him to come back was stronger. It had been honed from countless jarring awakenings, pain ripping him back from already restless sleeps, and so he stayed awake, no matter how badly he wanted to rest.
The man holding him shifted his grip as he went up some stairs, and Link felt his breath hitch as some of his injuries were nudged. The man whispered an apology, and gently squeezed one of the few spots of skin that didn’t have an open wound on it.
Link flinched anyway.
The touch immediately retreated, and Link was torn between being relieved and crying at the loss of it.
Part of him still expected them to suddenly turn on him, the kind touches becoming bruising ones, gentle hands turned to claws and knives. But... he also craved it. He desperately wanted somebody to pat him on the shoulder and hug him and run their hand through his hair, but any of the touch he’d received so far had been like torture.
He truly couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a touch that didn’t involve pain in some way. He could barely stomach it now, no matter how well-meaning, and he hated it.
Was there anything left the Shadow hadn’t taken from him?
Voices suddenly rang down the hall, and Link stiffened, straining his ears to try and figure out who— or what they were.
One of the other heroes who’d gotten him out (the one with the Master Sword, he thought. He really needed names) called out, and soon there were unfamiliar faces and words being exchanged and questions directed at him and all he could do was close his eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden amount of people surrounding him.
How many were there?
“... got Legend pretty bad, but we beat him off and he disappeared,” a polished voice spoke, and Link twitched an ear his direction. What was he talking about? A legend?
“I’m fine,” a sharper voice cut in, and Link thought it seemed younger then the other one. “You didn’t need to use that fairy, that was our last one!”
“Well what was I supposed to do?”
“Save it for the reason we came here in the first place! He’s way more injured than I was!”
“Legend,” a softer voice spoke up, sounding exasperated, “...you were pretty bad. And you know we don’t take chances with injuries caused by the Shadow.”
A sick feeling abruptly surged over Link at the name, along with an intense hatred and fear and horror and too many emotions for his mind to handle at the moment. Link’s breath stuttered against his will, and the man holding him frowned.
“You don’t think the Shadow is still here, do you?” The small hero with the colorful tunic asked, and the voices paused.
“Probably... not,” Link croaked, and they all looked at him.
He swallowed.
“Do you know where he is?” a man in a deep blue scarf asked, and Link exhaled, gathering his strength.
“No,” Link managed to get out, and the voices stayed quiet. “Probably not. But he usually... usually powered ‘self before... fights.”
“...powered himself?” a younger voice asked in an anxious tone, and Link closed his eyes again. Hadn’t they known? Or at least figured it out based on what they’d seen?
All he was was a battery.
“Thank you Link, I’m sorry we brought it up,” the leader apologized, and Link made a noncommittal noise. “We’re almost out, hold on.”
They began moving again, and Link caught several people looking at him, though most of them stopped when they realized he’d noticed. A teenager with a stripe of pink in his hair didn’t though, and Link found himself staring, curious about the look of him. He gave him an awkward little nod, and Link tried to return it, though he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.
They were all so different, were these really heroes like him?
The Shadow had mentioned other heroes once or twice, but Link usually had no clue what he was talking about, or if he did, refused to say anything.
Besides, he was usually too busy screaming to listen anyhow.
Something bright shone out of the corner of his eye, and Link turned to look at it, his heart speeding up at the sight of a large entryway. The group hurriedly went through it, and Link was almost blinded from how bright it was after they walked through.
He blinked furiously, needing to see what was going on, and finally his eyes adjusted and he looked around in shock.
Sunlight.
Faint, barely-there, dim autumn sunlight that struggled to shine through the trees, but the sight of it nearly made Link sob.
He was outside.
He could see sunlight shining through yellow and orange leaves, eventually joined by the sound of birds and other creatures as they went along, air that wasn’t stale rushing past his face and making all his injuries hurt more but he didn’t care a bit.
He was out.
He was crying he realized, and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by it all.
It wasn’t a trick. He’d never gotten this far the few times he’d been brought out, they were really who they said they were, they must be, and they’d gotten him out of the darkness.
Someone might’ve said something to him, but the overwhelming sensation of being outside had finally pushed Link to his limit, and he gave up on his fight to stay awake.
Darkness swept him away, it’s touch more gentle then he’d felt in a long time.
(...)
The heroes didn’t stop traveling until they were plenty far away from the oppressive ruins where they’d found Link, the trip passing in almost complete silence.
Link had passed out in Time’s arms not long after they’d finally exited, tears on his face, and Time couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved.
Watching Link remain in an almost stubborn state of alertness, ears twitching towards any sound, flinching when Time adjusted him, had been agonizing to watch. His body desperately needed rest, but he’d been stubbornly refusing it until they were out.
He’s certainly one of us, no doubt about that, Time thought with a sigh.
Sky grabbed a bedroll the moment they found a safe place to stop, and Time carefully lowered Link onto it, trying to avoid any injuries. He had several on his back, but they set him down as softly as possible, and Link didn’t wake.
“That’s really him?” Wind asked in a small voice as Warriors moved over to carefully look over all of Link’s injuries, cursing under his breath more than once.
“This is him,” Time replied quietly, trying to clean some of the blood and dirt out of Link’s hair. Now that they were out of the ruins, it was even more obvious how badly Link was in need of being cleaned up and cared for, and Time focused on not being overwhelmed by the task.
What all did he go through in there?
“What happened to him?” Legend said in a voice full of quiet horror, and Wild harshly kicked a rock into a tree.
“What didn’t?” he bit out in a fragile voice, and Sky put a hand on his arm, saying something that Time didn’t catch.
Warriors accidentally brushed a hand against Link’s collarbone then, and his eyes shot open, nearly throwing himself backwards away from the touch.
“Get away!” he snarled, voice hoarse, and Warriors immediately backed up.
“Whoa, easy,” Warriors quickly reassured, putting his hands up. “I’m only checking which of your injuries need to be cleaned so we can give you a potion. We don’t want anything healing inside them.”
Link glared at him in suspicion, but when Time moved into his line of sight, he relaxed a little.
“He’s helping, Link, I promise,” he reassured, and Link slowly relaxed, though he remained awake. Time glanced around at the other heroes as Warriors finished his examination, and saw that most of them were either looking at Link, or pointedly not looking at him as they worked on setting up camp.
It seemed none of them were quite certain how to deal with seeing one of their own in such a state.
Wild came over when he noticed Time watching them all, and he looked at Link, uncertainty on his face.
“Can I help at all?” he asked, voice stronger then it had been, and Time looked over at Warriors.
“These all need to be cleaned, and it’s not going to be easy for him,” the captain reported quietly, looking over his chest. “The faster we can get it done the better.”
“Link, we need to clean you up before we can heal you,” Time said as he knelt at his side, and Link gave him a bleary look. “It won’t be pleasant, but it needs to be done.”
Link breathed out and nodded, looking up at Time with shadows under his eyes.
“Go ahead,” he whispered.
Time gave him a faint smile, and Wild knelt beside him as they got to work.
It took a long time scrubbing all of the dirt out and disinfecting the injuries Link was coated in. They focused on cleaning the actual wounds, but Time knew Link would need the rest of himself cleaned up at some point, dirt and blood and all sorts of grime coated on his skin.
But that can wait.
Link was stiff throughout the entire process, trembling when they got to certain injuries, and trying not to cry out when they used the alcohol Warriors had provided to disinfect. The worst part was his face, which Time carefully washed up, but Link was nearly in tears by the time he finished cleaning the slice that cut right through the dark lines on his forehead.
But they finally finished, and Link sagged, his breathing shaking. Hyrule came forward then, and offered to heal him, and Link gave him a curious look.
“It’s a healing spell, it’ll be more thorough than a potion,” he explained. He faintly lit up his hands to demonstration, but Link immediately recoiled from the light.
“No, no n-no magic!” Link breathed, a flicker of terror in his eyes.
Hyrule immediately backed off, and Link’s cheeks flushed as he calmed down.
“I... I’m sorry, I-I...”
“No, I understand, that’s okay,” Hyrule said kindly, and Link swallowed and looked away, cheeks still red.
“Potions will be enough,” Time said peaceably, and Hyrule took out a few, handing them to Time. Though a fairy or healing spell would be preferable. “Take it slow, Link.”
Sky helped him carefully sit Link up, and Time helped him drink the entire red potion, slowly so as not to overwhelm his stomach. He eagerly sipped at it, and the most intense of his injuries began to knit closed, angry lines and deep gouges, and places that must be barely healed-over stab wounds—
Time exhaled, and lowered Link back to the ground as he finished, anger stirring in his chest.
The Shadow will pay for this.
“Try and get some more rest, Link. You’re safe with us,” Time said gently as he set the bottle aside, and rested a careful hand on Link’s.
He flinched, but after a long moment, slowly gripped it back. His hand shook as Time brushed his thumb over the dirtied triangles on the back, but he didn’t let go, even though Time knew holding on was hard.
You’re safe.
(...)
The next few days trickled by slowly, Link struggling to adjust to life not imprisoned in a hole being used as some sort of dark power source.
His injuries were healing, albeit slowly due to the sheer amount of them, but he was struggling more with the other scars his imprisonment had left him. He still couldn’t handle much touch, or large amounts of food, and he’d rarely sleep for long periods of time, waking up sweating and shaking from memories he hadn’t told the rest of them about yet.
Four made it his personal mission to remove the collar and bands from around his neck and wrists, since all they did was serve as a reminder for all them of the torture he’d endured.
Link wanted them off more than anyone, and he patiently sat through all of Four’s attempts at removal. The smithy finally succeeded with the help of some of Legend’s items and tools, Link nearly crying with relief at them gone, but the pale scars underneath the metal were almost worse.
They couldn’t be removed.
Time tried his best to help Link adjust, but it was hard when he could only give them the bare minimum of what he’d endured, and stubbornly tried to insist he was fine and they didn’t need to fuss over him. Even after he’d wake up gasping from a nightmare, Link would try to muffle his cries in order not to wake anyone, and couldn’t stand even a grounding hand on his shoulder.
It was at times like these Time wished Malon were here. She would know exactly how to comfort the traumatized boy they’d all found themselves with, better than Time ever could.
How do we help him, Malon? he thought one night as he studied Link’s slumbering face. His scars were harder to see in the dark, but Time knew they were there, slashed across his forehead, his chest... and his heart.
How did you ever handle me?
Time didn’t find any one answer, but as time slowly went by, Link did open up, at least a little. As they all explained more about themselves, he was willing to do so a bit too, explaining some of his journey, and telling the dark marks on his forehead actually weren’t a result of his imprisonment, though not exactly explaining what they were from.
His favorite thing to talk about was his home village though, and the longing in his voice was impossible to miss.
Time would have carried him there himself if it had been at all possible, but they were a long ways away from Ordon, and Link could barely walk across the clearing they were camped in without needing a rest. Taking him home would have to wait, as much as Time disliked it.
But in the meantime, the other heroes did their best to help Link as well, Wild figuring out what was easiest for him to eat, Warriors and Hyrule dutifully checking up on his injuries. Wind liked to tell him stories whenever he was struggling not to dwell on memories, sometimes getting Four to tell a few, and Legend even laid out his weapons and offered to let Link borrow one, until they could get him a sword of his own.
Sky often just let him hold the Master Sword, Link’s hands clutching the hilt as he sat in silence.
It seemed to comfort him, often when the rest of them couldn’t, and while Time couldn’t relate, he was glad it helped.
Time could also tell it was killing Sky not to be able to comfort Link with touch, at all, but Link was still working up to anything more then his hand being held. He would just have to do it at his own pace, as hard as it was to watch him struggle.
And things didn’t change in that regard, until all of a sudden they did.
(...)
Link closed his eyes as the tip of a blade pressed against his chin. He wouldn’t panic. This happened almost every day, and he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t give the Shadow the satisfaction of it.
“You’re not going to beg today?” he asked almost curiously, and Link licked his lips, tasting blood. “I might even listen, you never know.”
“I’ve never begged,” he said in a cold voice.
He wouldn’t stoop to that level, he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t. It was one of the few ways he felt like he had a choice in the matter, and he knew it made the Shadow mad when when he remained silent.
He wouldn’t give his captor the satisfaction.
The Shadow leaned in so they were eye-to-eye, and Link stared at the crimson glow of his eyes, trying not to let his breath hitch.
“Well. Let’s see if we can change that, shall we?”
And then the blade flicked down, pain ripping across his chest. At at the same time the metal around his neck lit up like the lava on death mountain, burning into him, searing down the line where the sword had struck, and Link screamed as he felt magic bore into him and sap away every bit of his strength—
He woke up.
Link jerked upright, pain still blinding him, and he might’ve screamed but he wasn’t sure. Darkness was around him, lit only by the Shadow’s glowing eyes and he knew it had all been a dream, he hadn’t been rescued after all and he was never going to get out—
Link breathed heavily, clutching at his neck, certain he could still feel the collar, magic burning into him, feel his strength ripped away as injuries were torn into his chest—
“Link,” a soft voice said, and he heaved in another breath, hands still pressed to his neck. “Link, you’re out, you’re safe.”
He managed to raise his head, and saw Time kneeling carefully beside him, a hand outstretched in a calming gesture.
He swallowed, breathing in another shaky breath, and looked around, slowly recognizing the campsite they’d been at for the past several days. The light he’d seen was the campfire, not the Shadow’s eyes, and he felt relief start to soak through the terror.
He wasn’t there. He wasn’t back.
His breath hitched, and Time moved closer to him, offering him a hand to take if he wanted it.
Link stared at it, then began to shake, feeling suddenly overwhelmed at everything again.
He was out. He wasn’t a prisoner. He was out and safe and he’d been there for so long but he was out but he wasn’t home but he was home, brothers he never knew he had saving him and their kindness made his chest ache because he’d done nothing to deserve it and despite waking them up and slowing them down and pushing away their help they kept coming back and he’d done nothing—
A sob broke out of him as the sheer scale of everything suddenly crashed down onto him, and Time’s eye widened.
Then he leaned forward, and slowly, carefully, put an arm around him.
Link’s breath hitched with another sob, stiffening as the touch settled across his back, but as Time tried to move, he clutched at his arm, silently begging him not to let go. The touch was like fire on his back, but it soothed a part of him that he hadn’t even realized had been hurting so much.
Time hesitated as Link shuddered, then he lifted his other arm, pulling him into an actual hug, tight and warm.
That destroyed any composure Link had left, and he buried his face in Time’s shoulder, crying harder than he had in a long time. The touch all around him was awful and wonderful and agonizing and pure relief, and the sensation made him shake with how overwhelming it was.
“You’re okay,” Time whispered as Link fell to pieces in his arms. He ran a hand through his hair, and Link’s breath hitched on another sob. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, Link.”
Link had no clue as to the last time he’d received a hug, but this one, as messy and awful and painful as it was, was probably the best.
(...)
After that night, Link often found himself in a pile of heroes whenever he went to bed.
Wild would curl up at his side, Sky would end up with an arm flung out on top of him, Wind and Four by his head. Sometimes all of them would end up around him, and Link would nearly cry if he woke up and realized, falling back asleep more deeply then he had in months.
It was wonderful.
He was still struggling to get back on his own two feet, building his strength, still dealing with the fact that he’d always have the scars from his imprisonment, that he still sometimes woke up screaming in the middle of the night.
But he knew he’d have the others to support him, as hard as it was to let them. He still had moments where he’d push them away, when touch hurt instead of helped, when the thought of giving up crossed his mind, and didn’t seem like too bad of an option.
But he wouldn’t give up. Dark Link may have crushed him, but he wouldn’t be kept down, even though at times it seemed nearly impossible.
He would keep going.
And as Link leaned against Sky’s shoulder one night, Time’s arm over his shoulders, Wild and Four sitting leaned up against his feet while the others sat close by, it wasn’t nearly as hard to believe that he might be... okay.
Ordon would have to wait a bit longer, until he’d regained his strength, and could properly swing a sword, but until then...
A hand ran through his hair, and Link exhaled, the feeling of safety like a warm blanket around his shoulders.
...Link could wait.
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