Tumgik
#idk how i feel about this chapter :
felix-krain · 1 month
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I am very sane and normal :D
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fluffyartbl0g · 11 months
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The one piece reread only makes the hardest moments hit even harder,,,, even when you’re rereading it poorly in portugese
Or AKA, i found out today that HINATA SHOYO reads one piece and I haven’t recovered since
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#one piece#haikyuu#hinata shoyo#roronoa zoro#(kinda)#omfg okay time for my entirely SEPERATE POST IN THE TAGS#i only got into one piece at the end of last year... but ive been in the anime and manga scene for like. my entire life#i cannot understate how WILD it is that I havent noticed how everywhere one piece is....#like once i read it... i started finding it EVERYWHERE#my sister gifted me an issue of shonen jump ages ago cause i liked act age and kimetsu no yaiba chainsaw man promised neverland etc#and it doesnt have like a one piece chapter in it actually (to my disappointment)#but IT DOES HAVE A LIL ADVERTISING SEGMENT AT THE FRONT TALKING ABOUT OKIKU FIGURINES AND OTHER ONE PIECE CRAP#AND IDK IT LITERALLY JUST BLEW MY MIND#ONE PIECE DIDNT EXIST IN MY LIFE BUT.... IT DID????#I HAD ONE PIECE MERCH BEFORE I EVEN BECAME OBSESSED WITH IT??? (hahah if you can consider a tiny segment mentioning okiku op merch XD)#just imagine suddenly being obsessed with a piece of media. and then you look around ur room and U SUDDENLY RECOGNISE A CHARACTER MERCH???#ITS BEEN IN UR ROOM FOR YEARS BUT YOUVE NEVER REALLY EVEN NOTICED IT OR JUST BRUSHED IT OFF WHENEVR U SAW IT#BUT ITS THAT CHARACTER!!!! ITS THAT MEDIA THAT UR MADLY IN LOVE WITH????#also im being 100 percent legit when i say that the sense of comeraderie i feel when someone says theyve ALSO read one piece#is insane#discovering that domics and worthiikids and all these other big youtubers that ive known for years have loved one piece like me?#it makes my heart clench and my eyes water man#ive never felt so connected to the world... one piece really is peak fiction.....#i love one piece's community sm....
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ningadudexx · 1 year
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see you next year...
other comic below🐒
here is a messy comic i made a few weeks back that i dont like very much but i figured i should include it
TW: VIOLENCE
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iamhereinthebg · 4 months
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The three clock keepers' boundary
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frobby · 5 days
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Ive been thinking a lot about kim namwoon but not like in philosophical way more in the "what if you were created to aid one person and like thats the reason for your existence and then you find out... that guy hates you so much he would get into internet fights about it..." kind of way
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yueebby · 1 month
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apristineblade · 10 days
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mahmoud darwish // unknown // trista mateer // rainer maria rilke // wasia project // u/Gearfire // mary doria russell // anaïs mitchell // wendell berry // lin-manuel miranda // black tabby games
the adversary.
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smilesrobotlover · 19 days
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AO3
<<Prev Next>> (coming soon)
Chapter 6- Hold Me so I Feel Safe
Uli watched anxiously from her home as Colin and Talo paced at the entrance of Ordon. Mayor Bo wanted the two to be the backup for Link and Rusl in case anything happened, meanwhile Beth and Bo would protect the village if there was an attack. So far, no monsters have invaded the village, but Rusl and Link haven't returned either, even when the sun went down, plunging the village into darkness. Uli should’ve slept, and she tried to, but waking up to her husband still missing in bed kept her from being able to. All she could do was watch the entrance as Colin and Talo waited impatiently. Every minute that passed felt like an hour, and her worry grew with every second that Rusl and Link weren’t there. Soon, the sun began to break the horizon, and Uli felt a lump in her throat. She watched Colin and Talo waste no time to move out, with Beth and Bo watching the entrance as they left. Dread rested in Uli’s stomach as she watched her son leave the village, possibly facing something dangerous enough that kept Link and Rusl from returning. She didn’t doubt Colin and Talo’s ability, but their fighting skills weren’t as great as Link and Rusl’s. If something happened to them… how would Colin help? What if he got hurt? What if Rusl and Link were hurt? What if she lost all of them simply because Bo and Coro practically forced them to investigate the woods at night?
“Mama?”
Uli looked behind her where Rela and Kori stood, watching her with worried eyes.
“Is papa still gone?” Rela asked in a small voice, her hand clutching onto Kori’s as his eyes got watery. Uli bit her lip and looked up at the entrance, hoping that Rusl and Link would walk right through, laughing and alive. She took a deep breath when nothing changed, and she faced the children. She couldn’t cry about this, she needed to be strong for them.
“Yes, Rela, they’re still searching the woods,” she said, praying that they were still searching and weren’t fighting for their lives.
Rela frowned. “Maybe I can help Colin to find them! I have a wooden sword! I can fight bad guys with it!”
Uli quickly shook her head. “No, Rela, you will stay here until they return, ok?”
Rela pouted and Kori looked down, his bottom lip quivering. Uli’s heart broke and she knelt down to be at eye level.
“Kori, baby, they’re going to be ok.”
Kori sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “I— I want my papa.”
Uli pulled him into a hug. “I know you do, sweetheart, I know you do.” Uli held him for a moment as he cried, and she looked over to see if anything had changed. It didn’t. She stood up and gestured to the kitchen. “How about we eat breakfast, ok?”
Kori nodded glumly and he and Rela sat at the table as she started making food for them. Uli was constantly looking out the window every chance she got, anxiously seeing if the boys had returned, but there was still no sign of them. After she made breakfast, she sat at the window, watching the entrance as if her life depended on it. Kori and Rela finished their breakfast and started playing silently, making Uli far more anxious. Goddesses, what if she had to live the rest of her life like this? What if they never returned and she was the only one who could take care of Kori and Rela? What if she lost all the happiness and joy she’s had for years now that her family brought. She couldn’t imagine losing all of that in seconds, she just couldn’t!
Before she could spiral further into the horrifying thought, Uli saw Beth shoot up and run to the entrance, and her heart beat against her chest as if it were trying to escape. She held her breath in anticipation, and she saw Beth enter Ordon, then Talo, then Colin, and finally, Rusl and Link. Uli let out a cry when she saw the two and she ran out the door, sprinting to the group.
“Rusl!” She shouted out, and she pulled her husband into a hug, crying into his shoulder from relief.
“PAPA!” She heard Kori yell as he sprinted to his father, with Rela following closely, and she heard sighs of relief coming from everyone.
Rusl leaned into Uli, resting his head against the crook of her neck, his arms wrapped weakly around her. He felt tired. Uli pulled back and cupped his face so she could observe him. His eyes were half open and bloodshot, heavy bags were beneath him, and overall, he looked exhausted.
“Oh spirits above, what happened out there?” She asked, looking at Link who looked a tad better, but not by much.
“Ma, make sure he gets some rest, ok?” Link said, pulling away from the group and moving towards his house.
“Link—“ Rusl called out for him but Link stopped him.
“I’m going to tell everyone and write the letter, ok? You get some rest.”
“You need rest too.”
“I’ll get rest when I’m done, I promise!”
The two seemed rather agitated, but they didn’t argue further. The group watched Link walk away, and Uli frowned.
“Tell us what? What letter? What’s going on?” She asked, and Rusl let out a heavy sigh.
“I… don’t… don’t go to Faron woods,” he said simply, and Uli looked at everyone else, specifically Bo who looked worried.
“What do ya mean, Rusl? What did you two see out there?” The mayor asked him, and Rusl shook his head.
“��m too tired to explain it just… stay away from Faron woods. Especially at night, please.”
Beth and Talo gave each other a worried look, and Kori and Rela pressed themselves up against Rusl’s legs.
“Well, let’s get you to bed, ok Rusl?” Uli finally spoke up, she gestured for her kids and Kori to follow. “I assume you’ll be staying with us, dear.”
Kori nodded and looked down, fidgeting with his fingers. Uli didn’t know what happened, but she couldn’t help but feel worry over what was happening. But at least her boys were alive.
Thank the spirits they were alive.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Uli stared at Rusl’s folded clothes in front of her. She spent a good chunk of the morning trying to wash them, but they were stained black. His shirt, his headband, his trousers, his beloved ordon obi and sash, it was all covered in black splotches. Uli figured that it was all mud, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, it wouldn’t come out. His shirt and pants were ripped in some places as well, and she came to the conclusion that his clothes were a lost cause. But she figured she could keep these until Rusl confirmed for her to throw them out. So she folded up them up and set them down on the table after they were dried. And she simply stared. Everyone in the house was quiet and the air was tense. Rusl passed out as soon as he got to bed, Colin sat in a chair watching Kori and Rela protectively, and the two kids simply stared at their toys. Link had been running around the village talking to everyone and even making Coro stay with Fado. But he never swung by to talk to the family, she assumed he was saving them for last.
The silence was suddenly interrupted by screaming coming from Uli’s room, and she felt her heart leap to her throat. She and Colin stood up and rushed to the door, swinging it open to see Rusl wide awake and panting, clutching his chest as his eyes looked around frantically. They landed on Uli and Colin and he relaxed slightly. Uli gave Colin a look and he nodded, returning to his spot by the children, who looked terrified.
“It’s ok, dears,” she said softly to them, entering her room to where Rusl was. He was silent as she sat down next to him, and he avoided her gaze.
“Rusl?” She said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He smiled slightly, but it looked forced. He gave her hand a gentle pat.
“I’m ok… just had a nightmare.”
Uli frowned as he looked away, clearly disturbed by the nightmare. She began to rub his back which made him relax, and she let out a sigh.
“Are you ready to tell me what happened?” She asked. She was willing to wait, but she and Rusl made sure to tell each other everything. If something was out in Faron woods, she needed to know.
Rusl shook his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Uli nodded and stood up. “Get some rest, darling,” she simply said, beginning to head to the door, until Rusl gripped her arm, stopping her. She looked over at him confused, and he had a desperate, almost embarrassed look on his face.
“Uli… could you… um… just… stay with me?” He asked, quietly. Uli smiled and sat down next to him, opening her arms to him. He relaxed and rested his head on her chest, allowing himself to be held by her. She rubbed his back and neck, ruffling his soft hair. The motion seemed to soothe him, and he was back to sleeping. Uli continued to hold him, not wanting to leave his side. She wanted to be here when he woke up again, she wanted him to feel safe by another person being beside him. Rusl began snoring softly and she giggled quietly, resting her head against his and closing her eyes. She’ll be here for him, and when he’s ready to talk to her about what happened, then she’ll still be here to listen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Colin glared blankly at the ground in front of him, his sword resting in his lap as if something would attack any second. Rela and Kori were chatting quietly about their toys, and his sister glanced at him.
“Colin? Do you think papa will be ok?”
Colin looked up at her, interrupted from his staring. He sighed and shrugged. “Yeah he should be.”
“Why was he screaming?”
“Nightmare.”
Kori and Rela glanced at each other worriedly.
“I get nightmares too, maybe I can sing grandpa a song?” Kori suggested, beginning to stand up, but Colin stopped him.
“Not right now, Kori. Let gramma take care of him, ok?”
Kori pouted and sat back down, petting his cat plush gently.
“What do you think happened?” Rela asked quietly, staring Colin down. He simply shrugged.
“I don’t know. They wouldn’t say,” Colin frowned at the memory of him and Talo finding the two men. They were by the Faron spring, both looking filthy and exhausted. Colin nearly got tackled to the ground by Link when he ran up to them, clearly jumpy from whatever happened that night. No matter how hard Colin pressed, they simply brushed his questions away. It couldn’t be a bear, they would’ve said so, and he was sure that if it was, they wouldn’t have been gone all night. At least not running around the woods, which was clearly what they were doing.
The door opened, causing Colin to flinch. Link was in the doorway, his cheeks flushed red as he glanced around the room. Kori got up and hugged Link’s legs, and he quickly gave his son a squeeze. Colin joined the two at the doorway, anxious to finally know what was going on.
“Link—“
“I gotta get mine and Kori’s things, I’ll be right back,” Link cut him off, giving Kori a kiss on the head. “Is there anything you need from the house?”
Kori looked at his toys and shook his head. Link nodded and left before Colin was able to register what was happening.
“Wait—“ he started, but Link was already gone. Colin let out a frustrated huff as Kori returned to his place next to Rela. The door to his parent’s bedroom opened and his mother peeked her head through.
“Was Link just here?”
“Yeah.”
“What’d he say? Did he tell you what happened?”
“No, he just left.” Colin returned to his place on the chair, glaring ahead. Uli tilted her head at him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just… worried. And confused.”
Uli walked over to him and ruffled his hair, pulling him into a side hug. “We all are.”
“Is pa ok?”
“Yes. I just came out here to grab another blanket for him.”
“Did he tell you what happened?”
“No, he doesn’t want to talk about it yet.”
Colin groaned. “All this waiting around is just making me anxious.”
“Me too, dear. But right now, your pa needs time to open up about it.”
Colin sighed as he leaned against his mother, staring at the doorway.
“Where was Link going?” His ma asked.
“To get his and Kori’s things.”
“Well… maybe he needs help?” She suggested, giving Colin a look. He glanced at her confused.
“I think he’s fine—“
“Go help him, Colin. See if he’s willing to open up to you.”
Colin’s eyes widened in surprise and he sat up. “Will you be ok with the kids?”
Uli gave Rela and Kori a smile. “Of course I will. You talk to Link, and I’ll talk to your pa when he’s ready. That way they won’t have to repeat everything to us.”
Colin smiled slightly and nodded, heading out the door to follow Link. The air felt eerie as Colin walked to Link’s house. The people that were out were speaking in hushed tones, watching Colin as he silently walked. He was relieved to reach the clearing that held Link’s treehouse, away from the stares. Epona was pacing the ground, clearly feeling the anxieties in the air, and Colin heard rummaging coming from the home. He jumped up the ladder and knocked on the door before letting himself in. There were bags sitting in the middle of the floor, and he heard noises coming from the basement.
“Link?” Colin called out, certainly not wanting to surprise him with his presence. There was silence, then grunting as Link emerged from the basement, carrying another bag.
“Colin? What are you doing here?”
“I… just thought that you could use some help,” Colin muttered, suddenly getting nervous about asking Link what happened. His older brother furrowed his brows, then looked at the bag around his shoulders.
“There’s not a lot. I can handle it just fine.”
Colin sighed and looked down. “Link I… I just wanna know what happened.”
Link stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. “I’ll tell you when I bring our stuff over—“
“No you won’t. I know you won’t. You’ll just tell us to avoid the forest and then head out to deal with it with the rest of us feelin’ confused.” Colin blurted out without thinking. He immediately regretted it, but where he was expecting anger, Link’s face only held exhaustion.
“Listen, y’all don’t need to know everything,” he said quietly.
“If there’s something going on in the woods, don’t you think I should know what it is?” Colin pressed. “I’m not the scared kid I was before, I can protect myself and Ordon, and I want to. But I can’t do that without knowing everything!” Link’s face was blank as he stared at Colin, and he quickly added more, “I can relay the message to the others so you won’t have to explain everything again.”
Link stared at Colin for a long moment, a concerned expression on his face. His jaw twitched as his eyes looked back and forth, and he opened his mouth slightly, before closing it again. Colin raised an eyebrow as Link turned his head away.
“It was… just a monster,” he mumbled, and Colin rolled his eyes.
“I know it wasn’t just a monster! You and pa would’ve said something!”
Link glared at him for a moment, then plopped his bag with the small pile on the floor and sat down, rubbing his eyes. Colin watched him patiently, staying in the same spot with his arms crossed.
“Colin… it… it was a shadow beast.”
Colin’s blood ran cold and he felt his eyes widen. Fear took hold of him and memories of hiding in the sanctuary from black monsters flooded in.
“H-how?” He asked quietly, and Link shrugged.
“I don’t know. I don’t know how it slipped under my radar after all these years.”
Colin felt himself sway a bit, and he sat down on the ground, his legs crossed. “Are— are you sure?”
Link nodded. “Positive. It let out a scream to paralyze me and pa, I’d recognize that scream anywhere.”
Colin looked away, remembering the battered men when he found them.
“So… what happened?”
Link gave Colin a look and opened his mouth to explain the story. He explained them searching around the house, he explained being paralyzed by a shriek, he explained looking for pa after it took him, and he explained fighting it until the sun began to rise. Colin listened to every word, his stomach sinking lower and lower as Link talked. He felt himself grow nauseous as he explained the beast vomiting Rusl up, and the implications made him lightheaded.
“Is this thing… eating people?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly.
“I…. I’m not sure. The scent it…” Link trailed off, staring blankly at a spot on the ground. “None of it makes sense.”
Colin tilted his head at Link as he grew silent, his expression blank.
“Why didn’t it go after you?” He finally asked, and Link shrugged, staring at his left hand.
“I have some theories,” he answered, before letting out a heavy sigh. “How’s pa?”
“He’s fine, he had a bad nightmare but he's resting.”
Link nodded and smiled slightly, staring at the pile of bags with an exhausted look. Colin pursed his lips and stood up.
“Resting seems like something you should be doing too. Come on, let’s get this stuff to our house.”
Link’s eyes held a hint of stubbornness, but his exhaustion got the better of him and he nodded. Colin grabbed some bags and gave Link a small smile, before moving to the door.
“Colin.”
He turned around and saw Link glaring at him.
“You know how serious this situation is now. I need all of you to stay away from Faron woods. Stay together and do not go out at night. You understand?”
Colin nodded slightly. “I understand. If… me and the others can help you and pa fight it—“
“No, it may be a shadow beast, but whatever it was doing for ten years made it strong. Me and pa are going to castle town tomorrow to make a plan of attack, but for now, stay away from it.”
Colin looked down, feeling slightly disappointed that they were leaving so soon. “Alright. I’ll try to keep everyone safe.”
Link smiled slightly and gave Colin a quick hug, patting him on the back before pulling away.
“Thanks Colin. I hope I can solve this soon.”
“I know you will, you always do,” Colin said encouragingly, and Link looked down bashfully.
“Sure…”
Colin wrapped an arm around Link and guided him out the door. “Let’s go, you look like you’ll pass out any second now.”
Link chuckled and let himself be led out, his arm wrapped around his little brother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was in a tight space, he couldn’t move his arms and legs. His body was bent at an awkward angle and the air was thick with moisture that he couldn’t breathe. He struggled to move, to crawl out of his prison, but he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. Something wrapped tightly around his body, but he couldn’t see. It was pitch dark, and he felt helpless as tendrils snaked around him, coiling around his neck. He tried to scream for help, but he found he had no voice. He couldn’t break free, and even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to crawl out. He was hopeless, he was going to die, it was all over for him.
He was dead.
Rusl jolted awake, breathing heavily as the feelings from the nightmare lingered. His heart was beating quickly against his chest as he looked around the dark room. He squinted his eyes and went to sit up, but he felt something; something wrapped around him. He nearly panicked again, but he heard breathing, and realized that it was just Uli. He was in his home, with his wife laying behind him, one arm under his neck and the other under his arm. He let out a sigh of relief and laid his head back on the pillow, holding onto her hands. He was safe, he was ok…
Rusl closed his eyes, trying to relax in his wife’s hold, but he couldn’t. His mind kept returning from the night before, the beast that he saw, that attacked him, that Link saved him from. It’s black, eyeless face, it’s snarling yellow teeth. Rusl shuddered, flinching at every creak his house made. What if it was in Ordon? Watching him through the window? What if it came back for revenge? He looked behind him at his window, expecting to see a black beast snarling at him, but he found nothing. There was nothing, he was safe. But he didn’t feel safe, not even in his own home.
A desire to protect his wife and family overcame him, and he spun around, wrapping his arms around Uli. His wife began to stir from the sudden movement, and she pulled away, staring at him with tired eyes.
“Rusl?” She asked softly, looking around. “Is everything alright?”
Rusl bit his lip and sighed. He didn’t mean to wake her up….
“No, it’s ok, Uli, I’m sorry I woke you up… I’m just…”
Uli frowned and traced her fingers along his face. “What’s got you acting like this, darling?”
Rusl sighed. He should tell her. He knows he should tell her. But he didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to relive that moment. Uli picked up on his hesitation and gave him a peck on the forehead. He melted into the kiss and hugged her tighter. Goddesses above he loved this woman. He loved her and she deserved to know what happened. He let go and sat up, staring at the dark room, only feeling comfort with Uli beside him. He never hated the dark…. But now…
“Rusl?”
Rusl took a deep breath and began to explain everything to her. When he and Link went to Coro’s house, when the creature shrieked and paralyzed them both. Rusl’s senses were clouded when that happened, and he barely got a good look at the creature with his torch. But he does remember when it grabbed him and snuffed out the fire. He tried to gloss over when he was inside the thing, since that was the part that got to him the most, but instead he spilled all his words out describing it. Describing the tendrils wrapping around him, keeping him in place he tried to escape the tight stomach. He didn’t know how or why the tendrils suddenly let go, but he was able to wiggle out of the stomach enough for the beast to vomit him up. The memory got too much for him at one point, and he himself felt like he was going to vomit. Uli held him as he tried to get ahold of himself, and he went back to explaining what happened, but in a much more disorganized manner. He truthfully didn’t remember much after he was pulled free from the mouth of the beast. His eyes were covered in black slop and he blacked out after a sharp pain went through his leg. He vaguely remembered something tightening around his ribs to the point where he couldn’t breathe, but he couldn’t tell if he imagined it or not. Then he woke up to his son watching over him worriedly, and it was over. It was the morning and the beast was gone.
He looked at Uli awkwardly when he was finished. He hoped it all made sense, but he wasn’t focused on explaining it in an organized manner. Uli was silent as she thought about all that he told her, her hand never leaving his back.
“So, what are you going to do? Link mentioned letters.”
Rusl nodded. “Me and Link are heading to castle town to tell the resistance about this first thing tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Are you sure it’s safe?”
“No. But we can’t sit in Ordon afraid for our lives while this thing takes people and—“ Rusl stopped himself. What was it doing to people? Devouring them? He was inside its stomach. If Link didn’t save him would he be…? He shuddered. He couldn’t think about that.
“Are you sure you’re fit to go to castle town? It sounds like you went through a lot, darling.”
“I’m sure. Link found fairies to heal us. We’ll be fine.”
Uli rubbed his back for a moment and sighed. “Alright, I take it you want us to stay out of Faron woods?”
Rusl nodded. “Avoid Faron woods, especially at night. Try to stay indoors and try to stay together, ok?”
Uli nodded, her brows pinched together. Rusl hugged her and rested his head against hers. Uli melted into the embrace and pulled them both down onto the bed.
“Please be safe,” she muttered, closing her eyes as she buried her face in his neck. Rusl didn’t reply, he just laid there holding his wife, listening to her beginning to snore softly. But Rusl couldn’t fall back asleep. He was on edge, he kept feeling like he was in danger, and eventually he pulled away and walked out into the living room with a spare sword in his hand. He spotted Kori resting against Link, and he smiled slightly. He didn’t think about them being out here, but he shouldn’t be surprised. Link was too far away from Ordon, it was safer with them both here. Rusl gently sat down in the armchair next to the couch, watching the door intently.
“Pa?”
Rusl turned and saw Link wide awake, holding his son in his arms.
“Can't sleep, Link?”
He shook his head. “Kinda hard to. I’m anxious to get to castle town.”
“Me too.”
Link sat up, laying Kori down and tucking him into the blankets. “So are we gonna talk about what happened?”
“I already discussed it with your ma, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Oh… ok, but…” Link stopped himself and sighed. “Never mind.”
Rusl frowned and studied his face. “Do… you want to talk about it?”
Link pursed his lips. “I just… I’ve been thinking about it all day and… I don’t know…”
Rusl sighed. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I just… that creature that attacked us… I… it can’t be…”
“What?”
“Well, I keep thinkin’ about it, and that thing was a shadow beast, but… it was so different.”
Rusl faced him fully. “Shadow beast? Aren’t those the Twili creatures that attacked us at the temple of time?” Link killed those creatures quickly before Rusl was able to comprehend what was happening. They were terrifying, bigger than a normal human, with otherworldly masks covering their face. He didn’t recall the beast that attacked them being the same, but then again, Link said they were different.
“Yeah, those are shadow beasts. Being around one as a light dweller will turn you into one, but… I don’t know, this thing didn’t seem to turn you into anything…”
Rusl shook his head in confusion. “Link, you’re not making any sense. You say it was a shadow beast, and though they’re similar, they were too different.”
Link shrugged and let out a sigh, leaning forward. “Sorry, I’m just thinking. It didn’t have a mask, it was big, and it seemed more powerful than a normal shadow beast. It… felt like a shadow beast that’s gotten powerful over the years. I’m just confused on how I missed it…I fought all the ones Zant sent to me, but where did this one come from?” Link frowned and looked up at Rusl, his blue eyes filled with worry. Rusl gave him a small smile, not fully understanding what Link was saying. His boy was rambling his thoughts out without thinking about how clear he was being. Link’s eyes suddenly got watery, and he turned away.
“Link?” Rusl shot to his feet and gathered his son in his arms, who melted into the embrace while crying. Rusl rubbed his back as he cried in his shoulder, rocking him back and forth.
“I–I was s-so worried ‘bout you,” Link whimpered, clutching Rusl tighter. “I thought you… you were gonna die and–” Link sobbed, interrupting his ramblings, and Rusl gave him a kiss on the head.
“I’m ok, son. I’m ok, thanks to you.” Tears were streaming down Rusl’s face as well. He thought he cried himself dry already, but apparently there were more tears to be shed. They held each other for a long while, the relief from his son being safe finally crashing down on him. Although it was an awful experience, Rusl would go through it over and over again if it meant his family would be safe. Though he began to wonder why the beast didn’t attack Link, and why it went for Rusl instead. He stopped crying as he thought about it, hearing his eldest hiccup quietly. He supposed it didn’t matter in the end, his son was safe, he was safe, and that was all that mattered. After a moment of crying, Link finally pulled away.
“Sorry,” he muttered, and Rusl scoffed affectionately, giving him one last squeeze.
“You don’t need to apologize, my boy.”
Link smiled and looked at his son, who was wrapped head to toe in blankets.
“Hope we didn’t wake him, we weren’t being quiet,” Rusl said with a chuckle, and Link shrugged.
“He’ll be fine…. Hopefully.”
The two chatted quietly the rest of the night, discussing their plan for the next morning, and how they were going to fight this beast with the help of the resistance. Rusl’s fear melted into fury as they discussed it, and he was ready to fight this thing. As soon as the sun began to rise, Rusl got up and started to get his things together. The sky was a dull gray as Link and Rusl strapped their things to their horses, explaining the situation to the confused residents of Ordon. Link was speaking to Kori quietly, giving him a hug and a kiss as Kori sadly hugged him back, while Rusl bid his farewells to Uli and Rela, and as he pulled away from his wife, she gave him a stern and worried look.
“I’ll be back, Uli. I trust you can keep them safe?” He said softly, and she smiled slightly.
“Yes, please be careful, darling.”
Rusl kissed her lips and nodded. “I will.”
When Rusl went to Colin, he was staring at the ground blankly, and Rusl tilted his head. “What’s wrong, Colin?”
“I– Link told me everything that happened and… I want to go with you guys!”
Rusl was taken aback. “You want to go with me and Link?”
Colin nodded. “I–I want to! I want to help you guys!”
Rusl smiled slightly, seeing courage in his once timid son, seeing passion in his eyes when there used to be content, it made him proud. He almost said yes, but he stopped himself. His smile fell and he gave Colin an apologetic look.
“Colin, I would love it for you to come, you’ve grown so strong and capable, but… It’s too dangerous, and I need you and the others to stay here to protect Ordon in case something happens, ok?”
Colin looked down sadly and nodded. “I understand.”
Rusl sighed and pulled him into a hug. Goddesses, his youngest son had grown up so much. He was mature, wise, and brave. Rusl couldn’t be more proud of him.
“Next time, next time I’ll take you with me,” he promised, giving him a firm pat on the back. “You’ll be a great addition to the resistance.”
Colin gave him a squeeze and pulled back, a sad smile on his face as Rusl pulled away to get on his horse. He and Link gave their family a nod and took off, silently riding to castle town.
59 notes · View notes
ywpd-translations · 1 month
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Ride 768: Doubashi attack!!
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Pag 1
1: Orange....
“Less of a hero”? Ah!?
2: Nonsense!!
You've never been a hero to begin with!!
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Pag 2
1: Ha..... Hakogaku!!
Even Hakogaku caught up!!
2: Thick.... thick.....
3: A man like this holds the strongest of powers!!
6: I'm thin compared to him!!
That's not true, Oosumi-kun!!
7: Senpai, is he strong?
The Hakogaku member who last year defeated Sohoku's Kaburagi in the first day's sprint is
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Pag 3
1: him, Doubashi Masakiyo!!
Buah!!
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Pag 4
2: Buah...
So in the end you've decided to run?
3: “Chicken”
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Pag 5
1: We're passing by the sign the signals 5km until the sprint line!!
2: Hakone Academy.....!!
3: Ace sprinter, Doubashi!!
Ugh.....
6: We're at “5km left” until the sprint
7: There's not much left
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Pag 6
1: It won't take more than “10 minutes”!!
2: So you've come, Doubashi!!
It's ���san”!!
San!!
How many times have I told you!!
3: Again!!
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Pag 7
1: You want to get revenge against me!!
2: That's how someone who won last year would speak, but you lost against me!!
3: Hahaha, are you being a sore loser?
I'm telling you you're the one who lost!!
4: Whatever, come at me!!
It's not whatever, what are you even thinkin when saying that!!
Are you that self confident
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Pag 8
1: We'll definitely win!!
2: Interesting, buah!! I came here to humble you!!
4: Ugh....
He's different.....!! He's much more dangerous now that he's running rather than when I met him this morning in the tent!!
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Pag 9
1: Hakone Academy's Doubashi!! He's so overwhelmingly intimidating!!
It's like the pressure of a huge raging bull that has its eyes on you!!
2: Just by looking at me he makes me feel like my hands and feet are restrained
Issa fought against someone like him last year!?
4: No!!
5: Calm down
Steady your breathing
6: Swallow your nerves, Danchiku Ryuuhou!!
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Pag 10
1: He moved on his own!!
Everyone is so overpowered by Hakogaku that they're not moving!!
For me, on the contrary
2: It's a chance!!
Nagoya's Komao used the curve and jumped ahead
He plans on going ahead alone!!
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Pag 11
3: The sprint line is 5km from here!!
Horse acceleration!!
I think I can aim for a breakaway victory!!
4: That guy has a reputation for running solo!!
Gallop!!
This is bad!!
5: Doubashi has an incredible pressure!? But isn't this kind of things
6: just fears that we create ourselves!?
7: I can keep going like this!!
Doubashi isn't worth fearing!!
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Pag 13
1: Where are you going?
3: Uaaaaaaagh
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Pag 14
1: I thought I was 200m ahead of him, and yet
2: I could have let you go freely, but if you keep wandering around in front of my eyes like that
3: I can't win comfortably!!
Wa-
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Pag 15
1: Hakogaku's Doubashi accelerated in an instant and passed Nagoya!!
Gallop!!
2: Together with Sohoku!!
3: Ah!? “Sohoku”!? Tch!! He reacted at the same time as me...?
4: You're the only one who can react at the same speed as me in this leading pack
Orange!!
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Pag 16
2: Chicken!!
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Pag 17
2: Orange is still behind!?
3: Did he give an order to this guy?
4: And he still managed to keep up with my speed of reaction!?
6: What, this guy's eyes, this running
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Pag 18
1: What happened, your expression has changed!!
So this guy wasn't a chicken!!
2: Sorry, Doubashi-san
We'll take this sprint
3: The two of us!!
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Pag 19
1: Garuaagh
2: After stopping Nagoya down, Sohoku number 5 jumped out from there
3: and attacked again!!
Tch
4: Hahaha
I told you!!
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Pag 20
1: “We'll definitely win”!!
2: Orange!!
Hahaha, what we're aiming for is to be
3: “Japan's number one”!!
4: I'll make you Japan number two!!
60 notes · View notes
asexualasshat · 4 months
Text
Purposefully writing slowburn so you can put off dealing with the sex scene that is unfortunately necessary to the plot? An asexual birthright
60 notes · View notes
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in the dream i don’t tell anyone, you put your head in my lap ; shoko ieiri
synopsis; ever since the battle in shinjuku came to its conclusion, nothing’s been the same as it used to. but you don’t think anyone is doing quite as badly as shoko. 
word count; 4.5k
contents; shoko ieiri/reader, gn!reader, canon-typical mentions of death (iykyk), angst, hurt/comfort (but not very heavy on the comfort), jjk spoilers (up to chapter 236!!), mild gore (mentions of blood, autopsies and general gore-ish imagery? nothing too bad tho), shoko ieiri deserves better, includes gojo slander (stay safe gojo nation)
a/n; first of all i just wanna apologize to the shoko girlies for writing angst when we’re already so starved of content, i have like 50 fluff drabbles planned for her but chapter 236 threw me into a mental angst pit so </3 yeah. i love my wife!!
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shoko hasn’t been herself for a while.
the thought sneaks its way into your subconscious, as your feet carry you to her morgue — a rotten thought you just can’t seem to rinse away.
it’s not very hard to notice. she doesn’t talk as much, for one. not that shoko was ever much of a talker, but now the silence around her is deafening. thick and heavy like the spine of a knife. and she smiles even less.
you can’t remember the last time you heard her laugh.
the crescents beneath her eyes are darker than ever, darker than you thought possible. a murky purple that you’d find soothing in any other context, but like this it’s just revolting. her eyes are deep and dark, the same as ever, but now they’re glazed over with something you can’t quite put your finger on. 
apathy, maybe.
or bloodlust.
the scent of cigarette smoke that follows her is suffocating. indistinguishable from her natural scent. you don’t know if she’ll ever be able to scrub the tobacco stench off her skin.
(you’ve given up on counting the exact number of cigarettes she smokes each day. you’re not sure you want to know the answer.)
she doesn’t even look alive, anymore. like some part of her already reached its expiration date. a spectre, wandering the hallways, filling the air with the slow, ominous clacking of her heels.
shoko hasn’t been herself for a while — and it’s so obvious. her grief is so heavy, her sleep-deprivation so severe. you’d have to be blind not to notice it. 
so why hasn’t anyone said anything?
you gnaw at your bottom lip, trying to suffocate the bitterness swimming inside your veins. it’s a dumb question, really, because you already know. you don’t want to acknowledge it, because it’s so unfair, but you know. of course you do.
no one has the time to. it’s as simple as that. 
no one’s doing well, anymore. not since shinjuku.
not since gojo died.
shoko’s grief is a fickle thing. always with her, tucked away within those eyebags, in the pockets of her coat. in that smell of tobacco, never-fading, always lingering. it follows her like a ghost, like something she’ll never quite be rid of.
(like something she doesn’t want to be rid of.)
shoko’s grief is a fickle thing, and it always has been. but recently, it’s been downright overwhelming. it used to be subtle, the kind of thing you notice if you look close enough. if you squint. if you even care enough to try.
but now, it’s more like a haunting than a simple ghost.
(geto. nanami. yaga. and now gojo, too.
how many people does she have to lose before whatever’s watching is satisfied?)
shoko hasn’t been herself for a while, and it’s obvious, and it’s sickening. she still does her duty to a tee, but she isn’t quite there anymore. gaze always forlorn, as if she’s trying to convince herself of something.
and yet no one says a thing.
everything is one big mess, right now. you don’t want to blame anyone. everyone’s exhausted, completely and utterly spent, but they’re still planning it all out. even in the midst of their mourning. because they don’t have any other choice. 
this is not the kind of situation where you should be pointing fingers. a part of you is angry, livid even — but you know the others are doing just as badly. it’s not like you aren’t, either.
still, though. isn’t this just too unfair?
”i brought you coffee!”
making sure your voice doesn’t waver is tougher than you initially assumed. just the sight of her sends a tremor running through your ribs; sunken down in her chair, papers in hand, eyes scanning the pages methodically. papers of what, you’d like to ask — but you already know.
(she’s reading through the post-mortem examination report, again. searching for something you don’t understand. you’re not sure she does, either.)
and she looks exhausted.
try as you might, your voice ends up sounding a little stale, as it flows from your lips and reaches her ears. but the attempt is there — the attempt to sound cheerful, calm. normal. to give her something to hold on to.
shoko looks up at you, and her lips curl in a way you think is supposed to form a smile. it doesn’t. her eyes look into yours but it’s like she’s not seeing you at all.
when you go to give her the cup of espresso, your fingertips touch. only for a second, before she curls her fingers around the ceramic handle. she receives the coffee with a small murmur of thanks, but you don’t notice because you’re too busy thinking of how cold her skin feels.
(cold like a ghost. cold like death.)
shaking away the shivers down your spine, you allow your gaze to trail over the morgue. it looks the same as always. cold, empty. foreboding. today, you think it feels just a little chillier than usual. matching the temperature of the outside world, where everything lies buried in heaps of snow and frost.
hesitantly, you plop down in the seat right next to hers. with such a narrow distance, you can smell the tobacco sticking to her clothing. it makes you want to throw up.
(you try not to look over at the couch in the corner of the room, where a certain someone used to slack off. his awkwardly long limbs would dangle off the edges, and shoko would pretend that she didn’t enjoy his company. you were more than content with silently admiring the smile she was trying to hide.)
shoko doesn’t look at you, professional in the way her eyes run across the files. cause of death: damage to central intestines, subsequent loss of blood. from a cut to the stomach, right below the liver and spleen.
you look away before your eyes can read another line.
leaning back in your chair, you exhale a tiny sigh. desperate to fill the silence with something, anything at all. you scramble for topics, racking your brain.
(what could you possibly tell her that she doesn’t already know?)
”the others are still planning everything out,” you speak, playing with your fingers idly to distract yourself. ”i think it’s going well.”
shoko hums, unaffected. ”that’s good.”
she’s speaking to you, but that feeling of unease still won’t go away. her voice sounds still, flat. empty of emotion. but you can tell she’s trying to be polite.
that’s no surprise. shoko isn’t the type to ever show how she’s truly feeling. she’s not the type to ask for help, either. people come to her for help, not the other way around. that’s all she’s ever known.
(in that sense, the two of them were alike.)
but that just makes it all the more important for you to be there. even if you’re a little awkward, and even if you can’t do much. even if it’s only for a moment or two, you want to see her smile. you want to feel for yourself that she’s really there.
looking over at shoko, you wring your hands together, the cold air of the morgue nipping at your sweaty palms. she’s drinking from the cup, one finger around the handle as her other hand flips through the papers.
”does it taste okay?” you ask, softly. if only you could ask her that under better circumstances, with cups of espresso made with better coffee machines than those at jujutsu high. ”i made it myself, so…”
”it’s fine.” shoko takes a sip. dragging her syllables out, as if mustering the will to speak. ”don’t worry.”
short sentences. almost cold, but you know better than that. she just doesn’t have it in her to pretend that everything is normal, anymore.
and it makes you uncomfortable. this silence. 
a couple months ago, it would have felt comforting; a quiet, peaceful kind of solitude shared between the two of you. nostalgic, like the smell of morning dew. or the way moonlight feels on your skin when the world falls asleep.
the silence you had with shoko always felt so tender. a single moment of peace, before the other shoe dropped. just that one moment was enough to give you the hope you needed to make it through another day.
you loved being silent with shoko. you loved her silence, the way she could soothe your very soul without saying a thing.
but now it only stings your skin. you fear that you might drown in it.
there is nothing to say. you want to ask her how she’s doing, but you already know. you want to ask her why she’s still reading the files from gojo’s autopsy, but you already know.
you want to ask her if she can still keep going, like this. but you already know.
she doesn’t have a choice.
(something crumbles, deep inside your chest, like ashes cast into the sea.)
”hey. shoko?”
she hums, again. weak. quiet. absentminded, acknowledging your words but not really hearing them.
you take a deep breath.
”i think i’m going to quit being a sorcerer.”
silence.
for a moment, nothing happens. nothing moves, or speaks. the air is cold and crisp and carries no meaning, no words, nothing at all. 
like time is frozen. frozen like all the bodies shoko’s had to dig inside these past few months. frozen like gojo was when she found him in the snow.
frozen like your youth, a glass marble kept in your pocket for moments when you feel as if the ground beneath your feet is about to slip away. then you’d take it out, and look deep inside it. watch the swirling of greens and blues and purples. that streak of indigo right in the middle of the glass. memories of the past, to give you comfort.
to remind yourself of why you’re doing this. to give you a reason to keep moving forward.
(south or north, it doesn’t matter. stay as you are or move forward, look to the past or to the future — none of it matters if you aren’t alive. that’s the conclusion you came to.)
shoko’s expression, too, is frozen. it doesn’t change, even as you let those loaded words fall from your tongue. you watch her carefully, out of the corner of your eye. she doesn’t even look at you, gaze still glued to the tiny letters detailing exactly what gojo’s pulse was at when he got cut.
but something flickers, in the depths of her irises, so fast you barely catch it. something you can’t identify, but it’s still something. it’s movement. it’s alive.
”not right now, obviously,” you elaborate. suddenly a little nervous, now that the words have been made manifest. ”but… you know. once all this is over.”
not sure what else to say, you trail off, fidgeting with your fingers again. voice wavering pitifully towards the end of the sentence, because deep down you know it’s not a question of once, but a question of if.
(if this ever ends. if i don’t die tomorrow, or the day after that.)
you swallow the lump in your throat, and look at her. trying to find her eyes. trying to keep her alive for as long as you can, this sequence of motion, this moment frozen in time.
trying to reach her.
”you won’t ever have to worry about me dying,” you throw in, like the words are light and not heavy as bricks. but you know she needs to hear them. ”i’ll leave, and then — and then…” 
staring down at your lap, you link your hands together. exhaling, a little breathless. sheepish, in a way. ”… well. i don’t know. i haven’t thought that far ahead, yet.”
you never had the chance to. you didn’t even really think of it as a possibility, as something you could do. and you know it’s not a possibility for shoko. the choice to be a sorcerer was never hers, from the very beginning.
a user of the reverse cursed technique. capable of healing almost any wound, more power and capability than a child should ever have. invaluable. she’s saved so many lives you’re sure she’ll be reborn as a god.
but the choice was never hers.
a soothing kind of ache blooms in both your palms, as your nails dig into the soft skin. hard enough to form crescents, like the ones under shoko’s eyes, that she’ll never be rid of no matter how much she sleeps. the choice was never hers.
isn’t that just too cruel?
they don’t deserve her. none of them do. the elders didn’t, the jujutsu world doesn’t — not even the students. no one deserves it; everything she does for everyone, day and night, just slaving away in the morgue or her office. cutting up curses and old friends. every second of the day, always that same buzzing of her name being called. 
shoko, someone needs healing, come quick! 
shoko, i know it’s 2 am and you have work tomorrow, but there’s a curse that i need you to dissect.
shoko, i think i got a paper cut, would you mind taking a look?
none of them deserve her.
you think of gojo. a flash of white hair, a grin brighter than the sun. a bloodstained smile — one shoko had to wipe away.
something ugly claws its way up your throat.
none of them deserve her. especially not him.
what were you thinking, leaving her all alone like this? so much for being the strongest. you couldn’t even stay alive.
why would you die with a smile on your face? do you have any idea how cruel that is to her?
you idiot. don’t you know how much she missed you?
— yeah. none of them deserve her. gojo doesn’t, the world doesn’t, and neither do you. no one does. 
what shoko deserves is to live a normal life. 
and she never will.
it’s foolish. it’s naive, a juvenile daydream. but you wish for it so, so badly. so much that even just the thought alone feels like too much to bear.
you wish you could bring her with you. 
you wish you could take her hand in yours, and run away. leave it all behind, every single thing, without caring about the consequences. you’d hold her hand and never let it go, and then you’d run and run until you were both high on adrenaline and breathless laughter.
maybe you could go somewhere, together. somewhere better. outside of japan, where there are less curses. money wouldn’t be an issue, you both have more than you know what to do with — one of the perks of having a job that’s bound to kill you. you could settle down in some smaller town, peaceful, maybe a little secluded. just to make sure no one finds you. 
maybe you could open up a little shop, together. or spend all your days tangled up beneath the blankets, catching up on lost sleep. talking and whispering, like you’d do back at the sleepovers you used to have. you’d make her coffee every morning, and tea every evening. you’d spend the rest of your life trying to make her laugh as loud as possible.
there’s nothing you want more. absolutely nothing. there never will be.
— but you can’t ask her.
you can’t ask her to come with you, no matter how much you want to. that’d be the cruelest thing you could possibly do to her.
she would never agree. you’d only be hurting her more. so selfish, all of these wishes. it was so much simpler back when you were just kids. when you didn’t have to care about duties or responsibilities. when your cognitive empathic abilities were just a little more lacking. 
a sigh flows from your lips. resigned, but somewhat hopeful, all the same. tainted with the murmurs of a memory that’ll never happen.
”maybe i’ll open up a bakery, or something.” you tap your fingers against the desk, smiling a little to yourself at the thought. or trying to. ”then you could come visit.”
shoko looks into her cup of coffee. watching the swirling of the vortex, the abyss that gazes back at her. she doesn’t look at you but you can tell she’s listening. then she puts the cup down, and you glance at her now-empty hand. 
shoko’s hands have always been pretty. even when they’re covered in grime, or stained with blood. thin, a little bony, smooth skin obscuring clear blue veins. moles litter her hands like stars in the sky; one right beneath her pinkie, another by her wrist. the more you look, the more you find.
tentatively, you broach the distance between you. curling your fingers around her slender ones, where they rest on her lap. linking hands. it’s a slow movement, drawn out and careful, accompanied by the heavy beating of your heart. 
(her skin is cold to the touch. your skin buzzes with unease, but you don’t let go.)
then you smile. a small thing, not really optimistic, but the attempt is there. something for her to hold on to. looking deep into her eyes, admiring the hazel glow that never quite left them.
”i’ll give you free pastries.”
a moment passes. shoko’s fingers squeeze around yours — weakly, but it’s there. movement, motion, life. a way of reaching out. a way to hold on.
her eyes continue to trail over the page, but you know she’s not reading any of the contents. you’ve caught her attention. a small victory, but you’ll take what you can get.
”i don’t like sweets,” she reminds you, leaning back a little in her chair. allowing her eyes to flutter shut, at last — and it’s not much but it’s something. a moment of relief for those tired, tired eyes. more tired than any 29 year old’s should be.
”i’ll change your mind,” you promise, mustering up enough will to sound smug. ”my pastries will be out of this world. you’ll get a sweet tooth in no time, sho.”
she exhales a breath, vaguely amused. your smile widens, hopelessly. her happiness was always the root of yours, wasn’t it?
then she looks at you, one eyebrow raised in lazy scepticism. ”can you even bake?”
”nope,” you deadpan. ”but i’ll learn. you’ll see.”
this time, shoko almost chuckles — and it’s more than you’ve gotten out of her in recent memory. god, you missed that sound. a little raspy, from all the cigarettes, but still so honeyed and smooth. hearing it makes you feel as if everything will turn out fine, in the end.
(what a powerful thing, for a voice to do. one so lovely it anchors you to the earth.)
a faux pout curls its way to your lips, and you squeeze her hand lightly. ”don’t laugh, i’m being serious!” your pout shifts into a soft grin, a little teasing. ”i’ll get you addicted to sugar instead of nicotine.”
”haha…”
shoko laughs. shoko laughs and it’s beautiful.
shoko laughs, a genuine laugh, and it’s so beautiful that you almost don’t notice the tears in her eyes. almost.
and then you realize your mistake.
a memory comes to you, then. you recall a hushed conversation, beneath a cloudy summer sky. the air was heavy with the scent of lilacs and cigarette smoke. two people were beside you, and all you cared about was listening to the tilt of their voices. that, and nothing more. a time before everything and everyone went south.
(”you know, shoko. you really should drop those death sticks of yours.”
”i don’t want to hear that from the guy who needs 40 grams of pure sugar every day just to function.”
”rude! and as far as addictions go, sugar is a cut above nicotine, don’t ya think?”
”whatever. just worry about yourself, gojo.”)
by the time you realize, it’s already far too late. the tears have already begun to fall. little droplets of grief, sticking to her skin.
they trickle down the contours of shoko’s face, and fall onto the paper in her hand, smudging the letters. she clutches it tightly, crinkling it, just to make the damage worse. her other hand is still holding yours, chipped nails digging into your skin gently.
but she keeps laughing. low, hazy laughter — pained. she sounds like she’s in pain, and that’s because she is. even if no one ever cares to mention it.
(how cruel, for her to be born with the reverse cursed technique. capable of healing any physical wound; leaving her with too many mental ones to count. never to be healed or acknowledged, in this life or the next.)
you can only stare. helpless to her sadness. her eyes are a little red, and she’s biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood — a drop of scarlet falls onto the paper, and you think of gojo again.
you think of shoko finding him. running to his side. doing all she could to heal him, to patch him up — getting blood all over her hands and clothes. red everywhere, staining the pure white of the snowfall. like something out of a painting.
she did all that she could. pressing down on his chest, positive cursed energy pouring out from her fingertips in tandem with the snow. pressing two shaky fingers to his pulse point, just in case. just to find any sign of life, absolutely anything. hoping so tenderly that she’d feel the flutter of his pulse. that he’d get up, and laugh obnoxiously, and ask her if she really thought he’d leave her behind so easily.
you’d never seen her look so scared. so desperate, a primal kind of fear you’ve learned to associate with self-driven survival. the way some animals can claw their way out of a predator’s stomach if they’re swallowed whole. but she did that to save him. trying to claw him out, herself. from the belly of the beast.
she did all that she could.
but gojo didn’t do anything. he just laid there, split in two. frozen in time, eternally young. watching the sky. smiling.
(what a wonderful way to die. what an awful thing for an old friend to find.)
before your mind can catch up, your body acts. muscle memory, in the way your arms curl around her midriff to bring her close. tucking her into your side while she sniffles and cries. still laughing, like she’s still trying to convince you that she’s fine. like she’s isn’t falling apart at the seams.
the dam breaks. the ice shatters. everything comes crashing down — and you’re there to pick up the pieces. despite everything.
it’s not enough, it never will be. but at least it’s something.
it’s heart-wrenching, the way she clings to you. like you’re the only thing she has. the dry laughter that spills from her throat devolves into sobbing, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath, nails clinging to the fabric of your clothing like she’s trying to anchor herself. broken sniffles fill the space between you as she hides away, in the crook of your neck.
(the sound makes you feel like someone drove a knife from your sternum down to your stomach.)
all you can do is hold her. quietly, delicately. as if she could break if you squeeze her too hard. as if she’d shatter like a sheet of glass if you were to say the wrong thing again.
you hold shoko like she’s fragile. because she is, regardless of what anyone else says. because she’s a human being, and she’s grieving, and she needs this.
eventually, she musters up the will to speak — and it’s awful, raspy, broken syllables she has to force out of her throat. 
she chokes on the words like they’re poisonous. like she’s been carrying them around for decades, bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be let out.
“don’t — don’t end up here,” shoko pleads, voice wavering through the syllables. full of fear. “please.”
you know what she means. she doesn’t have to say it, because you know.
don’t end up in my morgue. don’t end up on my autopsy table. 
shoko sounds meek. she sounds close to falling apart. you’ve never seen her like this before, clutching onto your sleeves as if begging you to stay. 
“you’re — you’re the only one i…”
she doesn’t finish, cut off by a broken sniffle. but she doesn’t need to. 
you’re the only one i have left. i can’t lose you, too.
please don’t die. please don’t leave me behind.
a shaky inhale. your arms tighten around her waist, tugging her closer. praying that she’ll feel the steady beating of your heart, the undeniable proof that you’re alive. that you haven’t left her yet. 
you blink away the tears in your eyes, grasping for control over your wavering voice.
“i won’t.”
and maybe it’s cruel, maybe it’s the cruelest thing you could do to her — making a promise you know you might not be able to keep. but you do so anyway. helpless to her sadness. at the complete mercy of her grief. you’d do anything to stop the tears from falling, to soothe the turmoil in her chest.
“i won’t let you be alone, shoko,” you murmur into her hair, with all the comfort you can possibly muster. ”not now, or ever.”
three words yearn to be spoken, resting on the tip of your tongue. three little syllables, desperate to be heard after living in the back of your throat for so many years. 
and for a second, you think you might say it. 
you think you might say it, breathe life into the statement. you can almost taste it, can almost hear it. can almost see what her expression would look like.
but shoko sniffles, and hugs you tighter. protective, like you’ll leave if she doesn’t. so tightly that it hurts a little.
and you swallow the words, once more. 
right now, this is enough. it’s enough that you’re alive, that you’re here. that’s what shoko needs, right now.
she doesn’t need your love. she just needs you to stay alive.
so you will. you decide that you will, no matter what. you’ll leave, and you’ll open up a shitty bakery that won’t get any customers — and you’ll give her free pastries for the rest of your life. you’ll get her so addicted to sweets that she’ll have no choice but to come back for more.
shoko cries like a child. filling the silence of the morgue with her shaky breaths and quiet sniffles, little hiccups and whimpers. the tears never seem to stop, and you wonder how long it’s been since she last let them fall.
you hold her in your arms, smoothing a palm down her back, counting the bumps of vertebra — and don’t say anything. there’s no need to.
for now, the soft patter of your heartbeat is enough.
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ijichi stands just outside the morgue, unmoving. not saying a thing.
it’s muffled, hushed and quiet, but still audible. the sound of childlike crying. the kind all sorcerers do their best to keep to themselves.
in his arms lie a bundle of papers. the final pages of gojo’s autopsy report. it’s important that shoko sees them — vital, according to her. something about the six eyes, the possibilities they hold. the hope that maybe, just maybe…
— he clutches them tightly, and then walks away.
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passerines · 1 year
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really quick thing but i had to get it out immediately once i thought about it
Edit 05/26/2023: thank you to @princess-of-purple-prose for assistance writing the following image ID!
[Image ID: Digital fanart of Vash from Trigun Maximum. Vash is depicted in profile. He is kneeling with his face pressed to the ground, his hands braced on either side of his head in a pose reminiscent of prayer or prostration. He is sobbing. The background is white with a gray cross. Excerpts of text float through the background, with the last three lines surrounding Vash. They read:
If you are Gilgamesh and did those things, why Are you so emaciated and your face half-crazed?
I have grieved! Is it so impossible To believe? he pleaded. My friend who went through everything with me Is dead!
No one grieves that much, she said. Your friend is gone. Forget him. No one remembers him. He is dead.
Enkidu. Enkidu. Gilgamesh called out: Help me. They do not know you As I know you. End Image ID.]
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orcelito · 8 months
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thinking about.............. this. when vash calls wolfwood a coward vs his thoughts immediately post-legato.
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trimax volume 2 chapter 4 VS volume 14 chapter 2 (pages from @trigun-manga-overhaul)
vash, caught up in his ideals, calls wolfwood a coward for resorting to killing for survival. these words are Cutting for wolfwood, & he spends the next several chapters thinking about them. he knows he can't live like vash does, not as a normal human, bc it would Kill Him. (and, of course, when he does try to follow vash's ideals, it Does end up killing him.)
fast forward to after wolfwood's death. vash is forced to kill legato, and... he has this thought. he thinks back to that time with the thought of, "Did it feel like this for you, too?" we see by his expressions throughout this scene that he feels Horrible for it, the very act of killing going against his staunch moral code...
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but he couldn't bear to let wolfwood's sacrifice be in vain, so he killed someone.
and he now knows how wolfwood felt in that scene. he understands the fact that this has Never been easy for wolfwood. it's Never been a matter of cowardice. vash remembers the words he said to wolfwood, now with the knowledge of how much those words must have Hurt Him... and so vash cries.
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the worst part is that he can never apologize for those words, because wolfwood is already dead.
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queerbuckleys · 2 months
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INSPIRATION//SEVERAL SENTENCE SUNDAY and just like that im writing again 🤪here is some of chapter five i wrote last night tagged by @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @loserdiaz @stagefoureddiediaz @hippolotamus @hgejfmw-hgejhsf <3
With Chris on his hip and a Chinese takeout in his other hand he finds Karen on her couch, glass of wine already resting on the coffee table, there is something spacey happening on the TV, probably straight from NASA’s streaming service, and her nose is buried in a book, and her phone is playing classical music. She looks up and barely acknowledges him before holding her hands out for Chris.  “Am I nothing to you?”  “Wine, or whatever other beverage you want, is in the kitchen.” She replies, beginning to play hide and seek with Chris from behind a pillow.  He just half smiles, placing the take out bags on the coffee table and the diaper bag on the floor, before heading to get something to drink. He grabs himself a glass of water and the bottle of wine, knowing that Karen will inevitably want more and ask him to go get it anyway.  “Oh you know me so well, I love you,” she says grinning when he sets the bottle down. “Did you know you have the cutest baby on the planet, excluding my future children of course, but–” “Our future children you mean,” he interrupts, a shit eating grin on his face. She promptly wacks him on the shoulder with the back of her hand.  She takes a generous sip of wine, playfully rolling her eyes.  And this might be it really, speaking of future relationships and children…what if my future was with a guy? Not that he was picturing dating Evan, let alone a domestic life with him. That was never going to happen.  For the next twenty minutes, Karen points at the space happenings on the TV screen as she explains them to Chris, and Eddie’s focus shifts between bites of food, the denial spiral, and the anticipation anxiety. It finally reaches the point where he just has to spill it, brave it and ask.  “So, um, you know me…better than basically anyone?”  “Is that a question Edmundo, who is this other person, give me names–”  “No one! My point is I have told you details about stuff I would tell no one else.”  “And I have told you the same.”  He swallows, “Do you think I could be queer?”  She pauses, her chopsticks gently landing in her fried rice, and then slowly placing it back on the coffee table. She considers him for a moment, as if flipping through the catalog of their conversations, interactions, every detail she knew from over the years. It was obvious she was taking this seriously.  “Not entirely out of the question.” She picks up her food again smiling at him. “What could have possibly brought this question to your mind?”
tagging: @eddiebabygirldiaz @giddyupbuck @dijkstraspath @disasterdiaz and anyone else who wants to play!
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reinedeslys-central · 17 days
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wip that just germinated in my brain:
Summary, I'm thinking:
"Sorry, who's this?" Robin tucks her cellphone (cellphone! Sometimes she still can't believe it) into her neck as she sorts out the groceries Steve had forgotten about (again. Ugh.).
"It's, um, Carol. Carol, Carol Perkins? I was told this was Steve Harrington's number?"
There's a faint droning sound in their warm kitchen from the dishwasher, and it smells like summer. Robin wonders how the tinny voice in her ear is supposed to reconcile with the one in the back of her head from '86, whispering 'Oh, Carol Perkins - bad news. Don't bring her up around Steve'. Minus all their late-night conversations where anything goes, obviously.
"Oh! Oh, no, well, Steve's number and mine are pretty similar I guess, so it's an honest mistake, don't worry about it, oh, and you must not know why I'm answering either way, sorry, it's - "
"Robin Buckley, I know," Carol Perkins huffs warmly. "Steve brought you to my wedding in '06. You're all good, hon."
"Right. Right, sorry, I wasn't sure you'd remember." Robin laughs. "Right, well, with that out of the way, yeah, our numbers are flipped, he's got the '45' at the end where I've got the '54', so you probably just typed it in wrong. I swear, I told that dingus we should just tell people our landline. Even the kids mix it up! Do you - Uh, do you want me to take a message? For him?"
There's an intake of breath from the other side of the line, and a sound sort of like someone's hand hitting their forehead. What did Max call it? A facepalm? Robin fans herself as she sits at the table, her notepad stolen off Family Video from way back when open with a pen poised to write down whatever Carol still wants with Steve in this day and age.
"Oh. Well, um…" At least Carol's clearly feeling as awkward as she is, yay for small mercies. "I guess it's not much of a message? I was gonna message him on Facebook, but it didn't really seem right. For this."
Robin feels a little stone drop into her gut. "For…?"
Carol laughs a little bit, like whatever comes next, she can't believe it herself. "For this, yeah. No easy way to say this, but Tom's gone."
Another stone joins the one in her belly.
"Gone?" Truthfully, Robin doesn't even care, really. Tommy Hagan's just a high school bully in her mind, save for the weird, weird days they've met since becoming (or pretending to be) functional adults. But she knows it's not the same for Steve. Steve will care.
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hanzajesthanza · 2 months
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the scene i find most relatable in all of the witcher saga is ciri in the korath desert, and idk what that says about me, but… probably nothing good 😅🙃
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