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adrift-in-thyme · 2 months
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Febuwhump Day 5: Human Weapon (Hyrule)
Ao3
CW for vomiting, blood and injury, and references to captivity
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Hyrule runs.
The ground is slick and slippery beneath his feet. Mud splashes up, sullying his boots and trousers. Rain pelts his head, burning his eyes, blurring his vision, sticking his clothing to his skin. It draws at the blood that seeps from his wounds, diluting it, trying to wash it away.
But no sooner has it managed, more bubbles up. It oozes out of him, constant, traitorous. A danger to everyone and everything he has fought so hard to protect.
He slips and falls, sprawling in the chilled mud with a grunt of pain and surprise. He only allows himself a moment to lie there, panting, trying to ignore the scream of his aching body. And then he’s up again, tearing past trees and through shrubbery, ears ringing with the eerie laughter that echoes around him. 
“Come here, little hero. We won’t hurt you.” 
“Where’s that cursed brat? Doesn’t he know how vital he is to the plan?”
“Hurry! He can’t have gotten far!”
Another burst of paper and magic. They are growing closer. Hyrule pushes his legs to go faster. 
His breath comes in ragged half-sobs that scream through his throat. Panic slices at his very soul. The ground itself seems to rise and roll beneath his feet. The sight of it reminds him of the Wind’s Great Sea during a thunderstorm — all furious, churning foam and gray-green waves that leap up to the sky. 
The sky still weeps and the trees bend beneath the weight of its grief. It courses into his eyes, turns his hair sopping, runs into his mouth and nose. Even the river is overwhelmed by it. It begins to breach its banks, belching filthy water into Hyrule’s boots.
He stumbles once more, feet flying out behind him, carried by the treacherous tides of the forest. His knees hit the ground and agony streaks up his thigh. He bites down hard on his lip to keep from screaming. 
They can’t hear him, they can’t catch him again.  
Desperately, Hyrule reaches for his magic, dragging it through his veins. It screeches in agony as it follows his call. There is so much within him, waiting to be let loose, begging to be. It has been building these past days, caged behind a wall he cannot tear down. But all that comes is a strained trickle, hardly enough to heal his wounds.
If anything, the attempt makes matters worse. The cuff on his left wrist sears into his skin, fiery and fierce. Even the rain cannot wash away the scene of burnt flesh. 
With a choked cry, he retreats. His power slides from his grasp, as slippery as a serpent and as helpless as a mouse caught in a trap.  Pitching sideways, he retches. Blood and bile splatter into the puddles that he has collapsed into. 
More laughter. The sound of it turns his stomach more than any pain.
“I hear you, little hero. You can’t hide forever.”
Come on. Hyrule grits his teeth, rising on trembling limbs. He is so, so tired. But now is not the time to stop.
If his brothers were here, perhaps, he could afford to rest for a moment. They are halfway across Hyrule, however. He cannot even be certain that they’ve noticed his absence yet.
He coughs up another mouthful of blood. Crimson-tinged fingertips slip in the mud. The very environment battles against him. The greenery surrounding him swims and swirls sickeningly. Cackles echo from all sides.
Get up. Fight. Don’t ever let them catch you.
He manages to get his legs beneath him, groaning at the exertion it takes to do so. And then he’s up again, stumbling forward as the soil moves in reverse. He struggles to remain conscious; struggles to stay alert to his surroundings even as they blur into blobs of subdued color.  
A sudden burst of red erupts before his eyes. The deadly shink of unsheathed metal pierces his ears. 
“Going somewhere?” A Yiga assassin croons.
Hyrule scrambles backward, terror turning his extremities numb. But several more assassins explode into existence. They surround him and close in, windcleavers and vicious sickles gleaming in the eerie grayish-green light.
“I don’t know why you’re running,” one of them hisses, cocking his head. The white of his mask is almost translucent from the torrential downpour. If Hyrule squints, he can see the outline of his features – a large nose, wide eyes, and a mouth framed by thin lips. Human. Natural. But in this moment, they hardly look so. 
“Don’t you want to help us?”
Another throws back her head as she laughs. “It’s such a noble thing, isn’t it? To give your life for the Demon King.”
Hyrule sends them all the most severe glare he can muster.
“I won’t,” he grits out and his voice is hardly audible over the thundering rain and his pounding heart. “I won’t let you use me. I won’t…won’t let you bring him back.”
More cackling, cruel and harsh. He hates the sound of it with every bone in his body. 
“Oh, little hero – ”
One of the assassins steps closer. Through his mask, Hyrule can see that he is grinning.
“ –  what made you think you have a choice?”
His weapon howls like the wind it commands, as he raises it high above his head. The other Yiga back away, giving room for the blow that will incapacitate the hero once more.
They’ll drag him back once he’s unconscious, no doubt. He won’t even need to wake up for the ritual. All they need, after all, is his blood. 
He tries to evade, slipping and sliding in the slop. But the sword comes down faster than he can run. A blast of wind hits him, sharp as a dagger in his ribs. And the world goes upside down.
He hits the ground with a splash, lungs heaving for the breath that has been stolen from them, limbs spread-eagled and oddly shaped. There is a fire in his chest, flames in his veins. His muscles feel as though claws of iron have clamped around them, turning them tight and leaden.
But he tries anyway, to move, to fight. Desperate, he reaches inside and draws at his magic once more.
Please, he begs as it screeches and screams, held back by his bonds, help me.
He only needs one spell to take them all out. Just one.
And still, his magic struggles against him. Still, the cuff sears into him, branding its raised edges into his pale skin.  
Cackles swell around him. Shapes bob around, harsh crimson against a blurred backdrop of green. Hands pull him up, as he chokes, blood bubbling from limp lips.
He’s slipping, he realizes, dully, in the part of his mind still capable of thought, and with him, his magic. 
They’re going to win. They’re going to bring Ganondorf back from the dead so he can raze Hyrule, so he can bathe the world to darkness.
Hyrule blinks, slowly, lazily. 
They can’t win. He won’t…
The world explodes. His eyes drag closed. His magic cries out, gives one last buck, and breaks free from his clawing fingers. Someone screams his name. 
And darkness claims him.
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mxxnlightwriting · 3 months
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Just sent 'A Spark of Magic' to my copy editor and I am both excited and terrified about it 😱
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Posting today @ 5:30 pm
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part 1.
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elliedafish · 2 months
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This might sound really weird... but Joe Alwyn might be my new celebrity crush.
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purenonsens · 1 year
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Turns out I’m doing the zine after all~ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )
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genocidalfetus · 8 months
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Brain Rot Thot
Lads and lasses, I'm writing one of the chapters that begins to bring The Three Of Strings into existence. It starts pretty heavy and angsty, but it will end on a fluffy note...with a wee bit of smut in between. So an angsty-smutty-fluffy sammich so to speak.
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d3m0l1t10n-lvrs · 22 days
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I have PLANS
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inthegardensofourminds · 10 months
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I have joined the bromide-collecting cult. I have an album with photos of my blorbos now.
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theredtours · 1 year
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Just wanted to come on here and say that I am actively working on putting together a pdf of the Red Photobook since it's like nowhere online and that's such a tragedy because the photos are phenomenal.
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Give me a good horny dylan thought!
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Dylan wraps those pretty fingers around his dick several times a day....
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frystikista · 3 months
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Going to be sending an email tomorrow to start my transitioning process, I'm so excited
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hazelmaines · 1 year
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Chapter 11 preview for just what i needed 😊
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Chapter title is "how will I know" - sing it with me!
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homerforsure · 2 years
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Seven Sentence Sunday
Hello!
Very nearly didn't make it this week. Thank you very much to @hetrez, @rewritetheending, @dearestdiaz, and @renecdote for inspiring me to at least spend a couple minutes with one of my WIPs today.
“Buck, are you okay?” Maddie asked. A tiny crease appeared between her eyebrows as she scanned Buck’s face with a worried expression and, for the first time, Eddie saw the resemblance between them. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Buck said, with a “what are you even talking about?” expression that was protesting way too much. “It’s just getting warm in here. I wanna… get some air.” 
He deflated a little as he repeated the words as if he knew they weren’t enough of an explanation but the real answer would take too much effort to share. Eddie’s hands itched to reach for him again, to build the shelter that Buck was so desperately trying to retreat to, but Buck had thrown him off twice now and Eddie wasn’t going to make him do it a third time. 
“Oh, I get it,” Chimney said, breaking the awkward silence and sitting back with a knowing smirk. “He needs to “get some air.” You’re taking protection with you right? In case it’s cold out there? A raincoat maybe?”
Hurt flashed on Buck’s face, almost too fast to see, before anger obliterated it. 
It's too late and I've been doing condo stuff all day so I have no idea who has even done sentences today (tragic for me), but I'm going to do the Uno thing where you put a yellow four on a red four to switch things up and tag @fleurdebeton, @princessfbi, @thekristen999, @littlespoonevan, @clusterbuck and @bigfootsmom to share the last lines of their WIPs instead.
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ahatintimepieces · 1 year
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Even with a fey doctor helping out, the prince and Hat struggle to take care of Mari in the fey world. Of course, the prince’s tendency to antagonize their patient doesn’t help, but maybe he can swallow his fear long enough to get her home.
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staceymcgillicuddy · 1 year
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for the au meme: homesteader eddie and mail order bride chrissy on the prairie 😈
You are... the devil. And I just think you're neat. And I may already have a chapter of this written. ALL THAT TO SAY...
Chrissy isn't a traditional mail-order bride. Instead, she's been promised to Jason, who heads west a year or so before her to get things set up. Naturally he's not going to be a homesteader or anything, and while I'm not entirely sure what he IS doing, it'll involve being a rich, privileged dick. As one does. Anyway, she's coming out to meet him and ~plot happens and suddenly she is in need of an Eddie.
Eddie and Wayne each have a claim, and they've built two cabins on either side of the property line, so they have their own houses but are in each other's pockets all the damn time.
Hopper is the Sheriff in whatever little town I invent, and he's courting the Widow Byers (Lonnie probably died jumping over a fence using his rifle as a vaulting pole and shooting himself in the hand and getting gangrene, idk, I hate Lonnie), and nobody really knows how he came to adopt his daughter, because neither of them will talk about the circumstances.
Eddie's conflicted about how much he wants to be where he is. Part of him hates being tied down to the claim for so long, but another part of him is scared to leave the familiarity of home. (Which is also why Eddie has been a senior three goddamn times. In this TED talk I will...)
I realize this is all setup and I haven't even gotten to the Hellcheer stuff yet, BUT I do think that Eddie bunks up with Wayne at first so Chrissy can have his cabin to herself at night, and she's the one who puts a stop to it and tells him she's just fine sleeping on the floor. And, you know. Winter Is Coming. I am but a simple smut farmer.
Blizzards are cold!
The gif below is live footage of Eddie and Jason in a fight, jsyk. It's my gift to you for this wonderful ask. 🧡
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pisces448 · 1 year
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tumblr cam im at work for another hour. and then i'm going to the gym when i get off for the first time in umm 5 months or so.
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