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fanficsforheartandsoul · 1 year

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Not One of Us | Daryl Dixon x Zombie!M!Reader | Imagine #2

Note: Another one of my random brain blurbs that came to me at midnight and that might turn into a series one day. This is another 2nd POV because I'm trying to get more comfortable with it but it's honestly still unfamiliar for me and I might not ever get used to it... Also, the whole zombie thing doesn’t really make sense with the canon of TWD but I honestly don’t give a shit :3 Additionally, this is set at the end of the Prison timeline and the reader has blue eyes to signify his “zombie-ness”.

This piece isn’t proofread sorry.

Fandom: The Walking Dead

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Warnings: Gore, Angst, Death, Violence

Summary: Y/N is ambushed alongside Hershel and Michonne and taken hostage. This leads to the sudden reveal of the secret he has kept hidden for so long.

Word count: 4,117

Masterlist

It happened unexpectedly.

To tell the truth, you weren’t as vigilant as usual, most likely due to Michonne’s presence.

The woman was like an anchor, not just for Rick and Carl but for you as well. So you let your guard down and you didn’t take your Kevlar with you to protect your head from any unwanted contact.

You ended up regretting it. Deeply.

Although you heard something snap behind you, you weren’t fast enough to turn and one hit to the back of your head and you crumbled like a puppet. And due to your nature, you stayed unconscious for quite a while...

"...take the fucker's mask off."

You blinked slowly, your eyes had yet to regain focus. You were laying on your side, your hands tied behind your back, facing the wall of what seemed to be an RV or something.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. His whole face is badly scarred from an accidental fire. It's unsightly."

You didn’t recognize the first voice, but the second one belonged to Hershel and it didn't take you long to figure out what the two men were talking about.

Hershel's words echoed the ones you had told your friends months ago when you had tried to tell them a plausible reason to why you would never take off your black balaclava in their presence.

The fact that the old man was trying to protect your privacy warmed your heart. But it was not enough to make your anxiety disappear.

"Really? How bad can it be?"

You heard someone shuffle closer and your back tensed. You didn't know if you could stop the stranger if he wanted to unmask you.

Your limbs still felt weak and your arms were restricted so the worst case scenario would be that the secret you had hidden for so long would be exposed. What would come after that... You had thought about it enough to know that it was probably a bullet in your forehead.

"It's really horrible, we saw it once and three of us threw up."

"You really don't want to see that" another familiar voice added.

Relief washed over you in waves. Not only because the stranger seemed to be deterred by Hershel’s words but also because Michonne was here with you. They didn't seem hurt based on Michonne's calm tone.

This fact gave you the opportunity to think about what to do next.

Listening closely to any movement, you contemplated about what happened.

If your brain didn’t deceive you, you were ambushed by the Governor.

The hit to your head knocked you out cold but you didn’t know for how long. The fact that you could’ve died if the hit was just a bit harder wasn’t something you could easily forget.

It just reminded you that you should never again walk around without your helmet no matter how ridiculous it looked according to the others.

Good thing you didn’t have to worry about the heat or cold anymore.

Someone opened the door to the RV and you tried to relax to make it appear as if you were still unconscious.

“What are you doing in here?”, asked the newly arrived man and you bared your teeth.

It was indeed the Governor.

“I-I was just checking on the prisoners”, answered the other man and based on his nervous voice you guessed that he had to be pretty young.

“Go wait outside.”

You heard shuffling and the click of the RV door told you that you three were now alone with that bastard of a man. Your shouldres tensed again. If he hurt your family...

Michonne was thinking the same thing but she restrained herself from lunging at the man before her. Her hands were tied and she didn’t have any weapon. Her anger was currently unhelpful, so she tried her best to ground herself.

She watched the man with the eye patch before her closely as he tilted his body to check you out.

When your capturers pushed you into the AV, she had to watch how they roughly dumped your body on the bed.

The fact that they had to carry your limp body throughout their treck towards the RV and how they manhandled you like a dead person scared her.

It didn’t seem normal that you were unconscious for that long. This combined with your insistence of wearing that military helmet all day long made her question if you had known that this could happen if you were hit on the head.

Her thoughts turned even more anxious but she ignored it. There was nothing that she could do in her current state.

“I see he’s still out cold.”

Hershel visibly frowned and she clenched her hands into fists.

“You hit him quite hard.”

The tone of the old man next to her was neutral but his eyes showed disapproval and she knew that the doctor of their community was worried about your state as well. If he could he would be by your side right now, checking for any damage at the back of your head.

Philip Blake barely acknowledged his words. Instead he grabbed something in his pocket and presented it to them.

“You should eat. It’s gonna be a long day”

She took the food ration without thanking him and he turned away and continued to talk:

“Nobody’s gonna hurt you.”

Michonne almost snorted but she held herself back, now was not the time to be antagonistic towards the man who captured them. Hershel would do the talking and hopefully they would come to an agreement.

“I’m sorry but I can’t believe that. What you did with Y/N... You already hurt him.”

The Governor sat on the couch and rifled through the first aid-kit there.

“That was a necessary act. He’s too skilled. We didn’t want him to start a fight.”

Michonne knew he was right. You would’ve found an opportunity to attack during the treck to the RV and it probably wouldn’t have ended well.

In the back of the van, you were burning with anger.

When I get out of these cuffs...

But the opportunity didn’t come.

They took Michonne, Hershel and you to the prison. Not together however, they knew it was safer to keep you separated. They dragged you out of the RV first and you couldn’t speak to your friends.

Just a quick “You okay?” from Michonne when she saw that you were awake when they dragged you away and you responded with a nod, that was all that you could exchange before you got shoved out of the RV.

They led you to a blue truck and forced you into the backseat. Your hands were still tied behind your back so you leaned forward as if you were in pain.

“Are we going to the prison?” you asked the driver though you knew the answer already.

“Don’t fucking talk to me!” was his response and the man tapped his pistol on the steering wheel. He seemed nervous. Like you.

You knew what the Governor’s goal was. And you had the bad feeling that not all of you would make it out alive.

With growing anxiety you watched how Michonne and Hershel were led out of the RV and to the back of a red car.

You didn’t know if you would survive until the next day but one thing was for sure, you would protect your family.

And hey, you already died once, right? How bad could the second turn be?

When you arrived at the prison, the cars lined up next to the tank and you had to watch helplessly how they shot a round at the building from the M60 Patton.

The fact that these bastards were using military property against your friends and your base made you grind your teeth in anger.

The explosion of the tank’s main gun’s cartridge interrupted Daryl’s and Rick’s talk with Tyreese inside of the prison and the three of them hurried outside to see what the hell was going on.

They met the others whose eyes were already fixed on the six cars that flanked the tank, on which Philip Blake, the Governor was standing.

Daryl registered in the back of his head that neither you nor Michonne were present. But his focus snapped back to man with the eyepatch who was calling for Rick.

He glanced at his friend at whom he had been angry just a few hours before, but now he trusted him to solve this. The man always knew how to fix things. And if he didn’t, Daryl was there to help him to clean up the aftermath.

He shielded his eyes against the sun to check out the men and women who stood opposite of their prison fence.

All of them held weapons in their hands and he wasn’t the only one who knew that luck wasn’t particularly on their side.

“It’s not up to me!”, Rick shouted, “there’s a council now! They run this place!”

The Governor’s response made Daryl’s stomach drop. And the sharp inhale of the Greene sisters signalled him that they were definitely at a disadvantage now.

One of the Governor’s followers, a woman stepped towards a red car and lead the doctor of their community towards the front of the tank where she made the old man kneel.

“What about Michonne?” the Governor taunted and Daryl could feel the anger pulsating from Rick beside him when the woman who had become like a mother to Carl was led out of the car, her hands tied behind her back.

She got shoved to the ground next to Hershel.

Rick opened his mouth and almost at the same time as the Governor he spoke:

“I don’t make decisions anymore!”

“And what about fucking Y/N L/N?”

Daryl’s breath stopped for a second when he saw how a man forced you out of a blue truck and dragged you next to Hershel.

You still wore your dark green cargo pants combined with the black combat shirt that you wore a few days ago and your face was still hidden by the black balaclava. You didn't seem to have any visible injuries but that didn't stop Daryl's chest from constricting.

You got shoved to the ground, Hershel knelt next to you and he appeared to ask you something.

Of course, they were too far away to hear anything but the man behind you kicked you and you toppled over. Michonne leaned towards you but the woman behind her grabbed her to stop her from moving and you ended up getting dragged into an upright position again by the fucker who hurt you just seconds before.

Daryl stepped up to the fence but Rick held up his hand. Their eyes met and the other nodded slowly.

The archer breathed in deeply. There was nothing he could do right now, he had to leave it to Rick. He mimicked the gesture and his eyes didn’t leave your form while Rick turned towards his son and mumured a few words.

Then he walked towards the fence and Daryl helped him open the gate that separated the court from the field with the outer fence.

All eyes were on Rick as he slowly made his way down to the fence line.

You watched him as well with clenched fists. But your eyes wandered behind him and you found Daryl’s form immediately. He seemed to watch you too but he was too far away to actually tell though.

The archer had turned into your closest friend in the last few months and although you two got off on the wrong foot at first, your relationship was now different. It had turned into something dangerous even and in the last few days you had avoided him.

The growing tension between you had led to more body contact and you were scared that he would find out how cold your body was even through the many layers of clothing that you wore, what that meant.

You liked him, yes.

Fuck, you liked him more than you should and the fact that you couldn’t be together was hurting you more than you thought it would.

But the insurmountable fact was that you were dead and he was alive.

Your body was slowly rotting away while his would remain.

You knew that there was so much more that separated you, that made it impossible for you to tell him about your feelings, but on the other hand you felt awful that you couldn’t tell him.

Somehow you knew that today would change things forever and you regretted all of your actions.

If only...

Rick stopped in front of the inner fence, the former police officer's eyes glued on Michonne and Hershel.

They exchanged a look and you smiled weakly when his eyes met yours, not that it could be seen through the cloth that shielded your face from curious looks.

Don't worry about me you tried to tell the older man with your eyes.

It didn’t look like he deciphered the meaning though.

The position of kneeling with a guard behind your back gave you a sense of déjà vu.

Only that a few years ago, you had been the one who shoved people down on their knees during negotiations. Back then, you thought what you were doing was the right thing.

The Governor was probably thinking that too right now.

But he was wrong. And you would make sure that he knew that.

The negotations began and Daryl was pacing at the gate, watching Rick and you.

The man who had ignited something in him in the last few weeks was kneeling with a straight back, his head facing straight ahead.

He could almost see your defiant eyes and he smiled grimly before turning towards Sasha and Tyreese, trying to plan a way out of this situation.

He distributed the guns to Bob, Maggie and the others, all while trying to calm the storm of thoughts in his mind.

Rick was in danger. Hershel, Michonne, you were in direct line of fire. The Governor was a crazy son of a bitch and who knew what he would do if negotiations failed.

Suddenly shots were fired and he and Carl raised their weapons immediately, watching how the Governor killed some appearing walkers.

Rick witnessed how Hershel jumped in surprise and fear settled in his stomach.

What was he doing here? Could he really talk this maniac out of shooting them down like pigs?

His eyes found yours and once again he was surprised how calm you looked behind the black makeup that covered the only skin that wasn’t hidden behind any kind of clothing.

But now that he stood closer to you, he realised that there wasn’t exactly calmness in your eyes, there was certainty. But he didn’t know what kind. That you would die? That you would protect your friends?

Your eyes found his and you blinked slowly and he knew.

Gulping he turned to the governor.

“We can all live together”, he began and he wasn’t exactly pleading but it sure felt like it.

That certainty in your eyes haunted him. He didn’t want it to happen. He couldn’t let it happen. Not when his son and daughter were living in the building behind him.

The Governor shut him down almost immediately.

No, no, no... echoed in his mind as he continued to talk. No, no, no!! when his talk of peace turned into threats. They wouldn’t leave. Either they live together or die. No, fuck, please!

The frown on the Governor’s face deepened and Rick watched with growing dread how the man grabbed Michonne’s katana and held it against Hershel’s throat.

The shift in the atmosphere was almost tangible and the stares of the people behind him burned into his back. His shoulders sagged, the expectation of saving lives weighed heavily on him but he couldn’t crumble now.

His mouth tripped over his own thoughts but he formulated them into sentences and tried to plead with the other men and women who Philip had brought here.

Not all of them looked like they followed him with 100% faith. If only he could persuade some of them... If only he could persuade the Governor...

“I know we all can change.”

Hershel smiled at him and in that moment a thought bloomed in Rick’s head.

“Liar.”

It was as if time was suspended for a moment when the Governor’s face distorted and he took a swing, only for you to lunge at him.

Rick, Michonne, Carl, Daryl, Maggie, Beth, Bob, Sasha, Tyreese and the people who Philip brought with himself bore witness how the katana slashed across your chest and then sunk into Hershel’s neck only to get stuck because of the missing force behind the swing.

For a milisecond everyone was frozen but then screams erupted, Maggie's pained wails drowned out her sister's and Carl began shooting, hitting the Governor in the arm, forcing him to let go of the blade that was still stuck in Hershel’s neck.

His father screamed furiously and began to shoot as well while retreating behind the fallen bus.

Daryl blinked and watched in horror how you slumped over, your body crumpled like a puppet and you fell over almost in sync with Hershel.

Pain erupted in Daryl’s chest, combined with the clawing fury in his throat, and he grunted and let himself get taken over by the pain of losing you.

The moment the Governor left his position on the tank you knew your group was doomed.

Had it been any other guy beside the Governor, Rick’s words might have reached them but that bastard was already too far gone.

Throughout the talk you had nestled around with the sole of your combat boots. It was hard to find the small slit you had created in the rubber months prior, but your fingers soon found the tip of the razor blade you hid in there.

The guy behind you was listening closely to Rick’s words so you had the chance to start working on cutting your restraints.

But it took too long.

The moment you saw the Governor move his hand, you moved subconsciously.

Your hands were still tied, so the best you could do is try to headbutt him before he could end his swing but although you used your body as a weapon, it still wasn’t enough to weaken his swing and the katana sunk into Hershel’s throat.

Blood spurt from the wound onto your face and you fell over. Blinking, you tried to get rid of the liquid in your eyes.

You didn’t feel any pain but you had lost your balance and now laid face down in the dirt.

Gunfire erupted over you and you heard screams and cries of pain.

You were numb.

Lifting your head you saw Hershel just a few feet away from you and you pushed your body towards him. Michonne’s katana was gone, you didn’t give a shit though.

Crawling over the grass you reached him and with a bit of an effort you forced your hands apart, tearing through the nylon of your restraints.

“Hershel-”, you breathed, forcing yourself into a kneeling position to lean over the man who was drowning in his own blood. He gargled and sputtered and you knew it was only a matter of seconds until he was dead.

A howl gathered at the back of your throat.

“I-”

Before you could say anything a familiar blade pierced your chest from behind.

“You bastard-”

You blinked and rose to your feet. The man behind you tore the katana out of your body with a squelsh and you turned to face him. The Governor looked at you, then the lack of blood on the blade.

“You- what are-”

Before he could continue, your hands found his throat and you flung his body against the side of the tank like he wasn’t a grown man but a mere puppet.

His head collided with the tank with a loud thud and he wheezed in pain. Your fingers digged into his skin and he couldn’t breathe. With a howl you knocked his head against the tank again and again and a bloody smear began to form on the metal.

He clawed at your hands but you held onto him with a vice-like grip and he ended up grabbing your head.

In your anger you ignored how he pulled on your balaclava and ended up tearing it off your head.

His pained expression changed into one of shock but before he could say anything you heard a shout from behind you over the continuing gunfire and you lost your balance for a second.

You turned around and came face to face with the guy who sat next to you in the truck. The one who asked about your non-existent face scars from a fire. He held a smoking assault rifle in his hands. You turned your head back to the governor. His body was limp in your hands and his dark blue shirt was dyed black with blood.

“What the fuck-”, began the other guy but you interrupted him by hurling the governor’s dead body at him and then charging at him in anger.

The man toppled over, the dead body to heavy for him to carry and within a second you were on him and grabbing a fistful of his hair you bashed his hand repeatedly onto the ground.

Since you were essentially standing on grass it ended up taking a while to kill him but you didn’t care. You grabbed his assault rifle and put a bullet through his head when his body started to move again and then you sent another spray of bullets into the tank who had begun to move towards the fence.

Some guys stood behind the tank and they spotted you.

“Look out!”

“Fuck, what-?!”

You mowed them down without hesitation, in your ears only a low humming sound.

You don’t hurt my family. You don’t hurt what’s mine.

On the other side of the battlefield stood a certain archer frozen.

Daryl gave Rick fire cover as soon as the man was behind the fallen bus. He concentrated his fire on the shooters who stood on the cars and witnessed how Michonne moved herself out of the line of fire.

He was glad she was safe, but that feeling was only a twinge in his side, overshadowed by the loss he felt when he saw you fall to the ground, certain that you had died.

There hadn’t been a lot of blood but he couldn’t really judge that from the distance and your body had remained motionless on the ground.

He couldn’t look at you.

So he didn’t. He fired at the cars at the left side of the tank and exhaled shakily, Maggie’s bellow of sadness in his ears.

He bit his lip so hard it started to bleed and the metallic smell forced bile up his throat.

Carl next to him paused shooting and his quiet “Huh?” stopped Daryl in his tracks. He followed the boy’s line of sight and watched silently how a figure he knew all too well knelt over the dead body of Hershel, only to be impaled by Michonne’s katana.

Daryl’s brain couldn’t process that you weren’t dead after all, because now you certainly were. The blade pierced your upper torso but you rose to your feet like nothing happened. Even when the Governor tore out the katana, you didn’t falter.

A moment passed between you and the other and in the next, you flung the man around with an inhumane force.

Daryl lowered his rifle, even though at the back of his head, he knew that right now certainly wasn’t the moment to do so but his eyes were fixed on you.

You didn’t seem like a person he knew.

At first he thought you had turned into a walker, the way you lunged once more at the governor, your hands outstretched as if you were ready to take a bite out of him. But instead your hands began to choke the man.

Daryl knew that anger could give someone enough adrenaline to perform seemingly impossible tasks but the way you manhandled the Governor, a guy who possibly weighed around 165 lbs, it didn’t seem human at all.

And he was right.

When walkers began to flood through the fences that were taken down by the tank and Daryl had a moment to turn back, he saw you.

You, standing amongst the advancing masses of walkers. He knew it was you because you looked straight at him and the black smear of makeup around your eyes gave you away.

Beth grabbed his arm.

“We have to go!”

You lifted two fingers and performed a little salute. Walkers passed you to continue the onslaught on the prison.

And in that moment he realized that you were different.

You’re not one of us.

He lifted his crossbow.

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commsroom · 1 year

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the "big picture" - whether that refers to some detached, calculated greater good; ruthless ambition and progress for the sake of progress; or even the dear listeners' cosmic indifference - as an antagonistic force in wolf 359 is so fascinating to me because of the way eiffel as a protagonist is set up to oppose it, just by nature of who he is. eiffel retains his humanity even under the most inhumane circumstances. his strength is in connection, and with that he's able to reach others who share his core values, but he's operating under a fundamentally different framework from the show's antagonists. he can never understand where they're coming from or be swayed by their points of view because, for better or worse, he can only see the world through a close personal lens.

it's an ideological conflict he has with all of them, but notably with hilbert: "you talk about helping people, but what about the real, live people around you? [...] that's your problem. you're so zoomed out." eiffel will never, ever see that "big picture" because he is so zoomed in. at his best, he puts things into perspective and grounds the people around him. at his worst, his perspective narrows so drastically inwards that he becomes blind to everyone and everything else. his failings are deeply, tragically human - they're personal, they're impulsive, they're self-destructive. they're selfish. no matter how much he might try to narrativize or escape from himself, he's still left with doug eiffel: "it's taken me this long to realize that running from everyone else means that you're alone with yourself." eiffel could never be convinced to harm others on purpose, but he has hurt people, and it's never been because he didn't care. the very fact that he cares so much, that he's incapable of reconciling the hurt he's caused with the things he values, is what keeps him from real growth for so long. where many of the other characters in wolf 359 will justify their cruelty in service of something they consider more important, eiffel is so caught up in vilifying himself and the fear that he's always going to harm the people he cares for without meaning to that he shuts himself off from the people who care about him and perpetuates his own self-fulfilling prophecy.

#wolf 359 #w359 #doug eiffel #someday i'll finish my essay about the big picture as an antagonistic force. it's only been on my list of things to do for uh. ever #eiffel really cannot be convinced by Big Picture ideology in any form because he's so. unambitious and inwardly focused #he's not self-reflective at ALL but he is self-centered #and in some ways that's genuinely a good thing #but it's interesting. that he vilifies himself and tries so hard to. externalize his redemption and see some humanity in others #as proof he might be able to be better. when if those people consider themselves villains at all then they consider it necessary #i'm not sure if i'm phrasing this the way i want to but his worldview is just. fundamentally incompatible.#when i think about eiffel i think a lot about. how self-loathing is also a kind of exceptionalism. considering yourself uniquely bad #is its own way of avoiding accountability.#idk. it's complicated. it's a lot. it's interesting that lovelace talks about the 'big picture' when she's briefly a sort-of antagonist #but her 'big picture' is personal and emotionally driven in a way no other use of the phrase is #and then of course you have hera in am i alone now. such a big big universe etc.#when she betrays that perspective immediately and directly by talking about it through such a narrow personal framework #one of the most direct examples of 'big picture' thinking vs. personal connection in that contradiction. but that's another post maybe.

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marquezian · 2 months

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vale every time he talks about biaggi, gibernau and capirossi: they were Weak and Pathetic so i could torture them however i want without consequence. but then everything changed..

#its sooooo funny this is really the crux of his ego lol #cannotttt handle when men are better than him not just at racing but also character strength...awesome to watch.#this is also why it always had to be uccio.. if he had had a best friend who was his own self assured person then it wouldnt have worked.#watched a biaggi thing too where he was like yeah i was weak. neurotic. too high strung. like okay king but thats catnip to vale #in another universe casey stayed and broke vale into a million pieces.thinking about how casey is like the only one he openly groveled with #absolute scenes crawling into his garage with his helmet on like that it makes me laugh every time #vr #mp4 #*#valentino rossi #no ones online but we (me and my tag essay) move

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summertimemusician · 6 months

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Linktober (Shadow) 2023, Day 11

Monsters (Dead Hand)

Summer Stop Giving Reader/PoV Character and the Chain a Hard Time and Trauma Challenge (impossible) /j. But really I'll probably write something lighter for Linktober or Linktober Shadow later to compensate for this one lol. Probably a sequel to this one that has Reader actually having a nice time with the Links for once.

Technically since unfortunately studying for future exam season in like a couple of days has been kicking me in the ribs and thus my time was highly cut and unfortunately I don't have an Ocarina to give me more, this is actually a mix of prompts! The ones in the title, Keese, Wolfos, Wizzrobe, Lizalfos, Redead, and Boss, although they are not the focus here, mostly just mentioned but technically checking out the boxes, maybe next time I'll go more in deep on that (Like the original idea that basically was Reader taming a pet Wolfos as a guard hound that I will not elaborate on at least not this year), instead y'all get this with the boss that gave a lot of people childhood trauma and was never seeing again since because we really don't talk about just why Dead Hands are terrifying much, just that they are, really missed opportunity to use them more in an LU context lol.

As always any relationship between Reader and any of the Chain can be interpreted as romantic or platonic, and Reader is Gender Neutral on Purpose. And First is here because again, this would have been longer if exam season wasn't kicking me in the ribs and I have some really evil ideas involving First, Reader and Time bonding over having trauma of enclosed spaces, but thankfully y'all don't get that today lol, or not, it would be a really fluffy scene so up to y'all if it's a win or a loss.

TW:

Don't think there's anything too heavy-ish? But I'm a horror fan so I'm not someone who can accurately judge that. I'd say graphic descriptions of violence and gore, and being restrained/pinned in place and the entire deal that is the Dead Hand's existing, so please don't read if you're squeamish or uncomfortable. Health is important and specially mental health and I always leave these warnings on Linktober Shadow related prompts or heavier stories, so just a heads up so no one is caught by surprise.

Anyway, enjoy reading!

It was an almost unanimous agreement that no hero liked to pass through a cemetery in Hyrule.

From the restless Gibdo, to the mischievous yet usually cruel Poes and the lost Ghini, to the ever wandering Stalfos and the ghastly agonized Redead and ever determined ghoulish Garo, nothing good ever came from entering in areas where dead things roam. You can't be sure if it's because of the magic in Hyrule, the living force of light and shadow and the divinity coursing through the land, or simply the will of the undead or the consequences of Demise attempting to claim the Triforce, graveyards and desolated fields meant silence, they should be where those who are gone should finally acquire their final catharsis, not to roam endlessly without release, solemn as these places are they are still places for a peaceful end and to be denied such due to the whims of the Shadow... You can think of very few awful fates that can compare.

('Terrible fates, you could say.' The grimly bemused part of your mind whispers, as you walk alongside Time further down into the crypt that you and the Chain had followed the shadow into, silver, prisitne armor briefly blends with old, rusted, bloody gold and you think you hear the rattling of bones in the distance, the draw of a rusted, but still serviceable sword. You shut it away with a snarl as you cut down the Stalfos attempting to ambush Wild from the rear, and it goes down and back into the darkness with a screech alongside the chilling knowleged and the sick cracking of broken bones, not on your watch, never on your watch, you refuse.)

"Of all places why did it have to be a bloody crypt?" Grimaced Warriors, casting a weary glance towards the skulls decorating the walls, their empty sockets empty but silently cutting, as if sneering at the fact you lot had dared disturb the dead, as if it wasn't the Shadow's mere presence making what would otherwise be a place for rest into a possible death trap.

Legend smirked, though you could tell he wasn't anymore pleased from the way he marched through the cold, cracked stone floor, steps flighty and eyes darting around corners, "What, a bit too much for you, soldier boy?"

"No," came the prim answer, although the twitch of the hand near his scabbard as you stepped into an open chamber gave him away, as well as Wind being kept at his side rather than near the wall, "Just don't generally like fighting the undead in closed spaces. It's a recipe for disaster."

"On that I believe we all can agree on." Came Time's voice, cutting through the banter, tense as a drawn bowstring, you knew being back in a crypt wasn't easy for him, with the way his jaw tensed, you both had the same awful memories of a similarly buried, abandoned place where dead things roamed without cease, frantic, hungry for the warmth of the living, "Keep your guard up, and stay close together."

Almost as if on cue came the monsters from the open corridors, you didn't hesitate in drawing your blade to cut through the enemy, keese were easily dispatched by Four and Legend's swords, you spun to slit the throat of a growling Wolfos from Twilight's era going for Sky's back just as he mercilessly chased down the Black Lizalfos, the beast clearly avoiding the glow from the Sword of Evil's Bane. Time's back to yours as you cleared the path for him and blocked the Shadow's exit through the left corridor, it had already proven that it would not matter if you did or not, but you refused to not let it work for survival.

The jolt of magic being used crawling up your spine was your first warning. Like the build up of lightning in a storm, the taste of rust and a feeling like tar slithers up your throat.

The second was Wild's warning shout as the chamber shook with the grating, chilling, blood curdling howl of the Redeads, Time lunging away from your side to slash the beasts away from Wind and Warriors with all of the fury of a wolf defending it's pack, before you had to throw yourself back, slamming your back against the arch on the right as it caved in, lest you be crushed alongside the Wolfos coming for your neck the second the older hero moved.

You were separated.

You were alone.

A really, really bad spot to be when in Hyrule's catacombs.

"Are you alright?!", Came muffled from the other side of the stones, the hint of an actual wolf's growl and the distinctive Ordonian cadence, Twilight.

"I'm fine! Keep fighting, I'll find my way to you guys!", You yell back, heart racing, trying not to think about what you could find on your way back, you didn't have any bombs on you, it wasn't feasible to use them in a place as old as this, not without risk bringing down the ceiling on you and the Chain. But most catacombs have interconnected hallways, if you moved quickly, you might just avoid finding anything that you won't be able to handle on your own.

You think Twilight replies, but it's muffled by another Redead's yowl, you wince, your muscles lock up and you feel something warm drip from your ears, but thankfully you are not rendered immobile due to the involuntary wall, you swallow your trepidation and get moving.

The further you get away from the fallen stones, the more silent the catacombs extending from the crypt you were dropped in became, shadows twist oddly by the torches upon the wall with only your breathing and the cold, unfeeling remains of the dead to keep you company, the lowly burning flames bringing you no warmth. The corridors blended together in the darkness cast by the faint light, the shades contorting themselves in the crevices of your paranoia the longer you went on with only your own hurried footsteps to make any true sound.

Not one monster had found it's way to you thus far, though, and according to the copy of the map Legend had made the second you had acquired the original from a very unfortunate Wizzrobe from Wild's era. You just needed to pass one more open chamber to find the corridor leading to your boys, You couldn't keep them waiting, who knew how long it would take for the fight to finish if Redead's were involved? And staying still when the Shadow could turn itself intangible was practically begging it to switch it's attention, it usually didn't pay you as much mind as it did the heroes, Time specially (it seemed to hold a grudge against him more than any of your boys, you noted bitterly), but it would occasionally target you if it meant getting a rise from any of the Link's or if it felt you were too secure in your safety, it was better if you found your way back first to the hunt before you became hunted.

You grit your teeth, by Hylia's dripping gash, you were so. darn. tired. of. being. hunted.

Of watching your friends being led into a wild hunt with no end in sight, dragged by the noose by a remnant that refused to stay dead, you never thought you could burn with so much anger, with the desire to see if fire would scare it sober into ceasing in it's infection of all of Hyrule's Eras. But unfortunately you knew it didn't work like that, so you had to survive, you would survive, because someone had to protect the heroes when the heroes protected everyone else and if no one was going to step up to the job, you'd just have to do it yourself.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, lest you end up drowning in them, you breath in relief as soon as you come upon the metal door with the symbol of the royal family, faded and rusted with age, there. You just needed to pass through this chamber and the corridor next to it, and you'd be back with Link, all of them, and hopefully out of here. You push it open, grip tightening on your long dagger, almost a sword, good enough to cut and hide. The thick and pungent combination of old, congealed blood, sick and decaying flesh, something like rotten eggs dipped in alcohol and withered flowers hits your nose, making you nauseous but you press on, the chamber is circular and dimly lit, with a long cracked, soft stone from a leak in the walls. You studiously do not look at the far corner of the dungeon or the pillory's and shackles scattered around near the cells, there's a second door to the other side, as soon as you pass through it you'll be in another corridor.

... It's silent, too quiet. Unease slithers and twists around you like vines, but you can't delay, you won't, so you keep walking-

Until you can't.

Something has grabbed a hold of your leg. You look down, and your blood freezes, spotting a long, sickly, pale arm and a bright crimson, elongated nails, claw-like, digging into your ankle, having dug itself up from the fragile ground.

You don't hesitate, slashing down violently at the offending limb, frantic terror spreads through your blood, you knew what was here. It featured in your nightmares for a long, long time, you knew it still haunted Time's, the limb goes slack as it is severed, and you barely note the way it starts bleeding black and green at the stump, thankful for Four's expert craftsmanship and maintenance hints as you dive to the exit. You don't make it far, it's companion limbs bursting in front of your path like a snake emerging from the ground, it makes a solid grab for your arms, one of them grabs you by the scalp, firmly digging as you dodge and weave between, a stabbing pain upon your skull from the indomitable grip of something fueled by fury, twisted magic and rigor mortis and makes you cry out, your slight moment of hesitation allowing two more hands to latch onto your legs and arms, nails slicing through your flesh like easily and digging, tearing like a rabid hunting dog's teeth upon an unfortunate deer, leaving deep gashes upon your arms and ankles, it's not unlike being pinned and held to a torture rack, in hindsight, ironic given just where in the crypt you ended up.

Your hear the ground below shifting below you, a groan carrying through the air, awfully monstrous, coldly human. You struggle harder like a desperate butterfly upon a dissection board, from your peripheral, you see the form of the thing unhurriedly dragging itself over, it uses the sharp and bloody ends of where bone was broken to slice it's hands off to shuffle out of the grave, using it's stubs as support. Long long neck barely supporting it's elongated head, the scent of rot intensifies and you feel like gagging as it settles it's empty, frigid, hungry eye sockets on your bound form; it's broken jaw contorting itself in a mockery of a human smile over rotten gums and exposed teeth, stretching unnaturally and bringing emphasis to it's rotting, bloodied sunken features. From behind it's bloated, putrid shape, barely obscured by the bloodied white cloth and the grotesque vision of the undead you swear the crimson eyes of the shadow, watching you coldly, the hint of a knife sharp, serpentine smile as the sound of wet meat slamming across the ground rings in the chamber.

Fury mixes with your panic as you snarl, trying to twist the dagger in your grip as best as you can to drive it into the arms, pain and blood drips from the open wound but you don't care; you need to get away from the Dead Hand. A monster like that feels no pain when struck for it is not human, not any longer, and you couldn't hope to face an infected one alone, it shuffles over the floor, unhurriedly shuffling like a predator that knows it's prey can't run away, it moans and groans with hunger as it approaches and you have no intention of giving it a meal, you grit your teeth as the nails sink deeply into your shoulders and arms, using your blade to saw through rotting flesh and hopefully break bone with every single inch of strenght you have, the blade is slick in your hand with your own blood and the poison-tar of the Shadow's infection burning through you but you do not mind, can't. You need to get away-

The undead's teeth sink into the hollow of your collarbone, blunt, human teeth that shouldn't have half the strenght it does to rip through flesh, blood and crack bone, and you caterwaul with pain, skin crawling and numbing and set aflame with curses sent from the dark reflection of the hero, darkening, veins blackening, your eardrums vibrate with the force of your own agony and you are sure you could rival a Redead on pitch alone of your tortured howl. Struggling even more ferociously, attempting to disloged it, kick it off, your blade sucessfully slashes through the arm from your reverse grip, pushing away from it with the savegery off a cornered predator you sink your long dagger into the undead's eye sockets, tearing through it's cheek with animal ferocity, it keens high and chilling, you're losing blood quickly and it (for it's not a human, not anymore, you can't feel sympathy for it, won't. You can't hesitate.) knows, for it tries to chomp down onto your vulnerable neck, your arm being the only thing keeping it from biting it out as you growl with pain, although you can't be sure it just won't bite through, it's teeth are bared, the pitch of it's blank eyes locked onto yours in stalemate, you have the advantage of not being weakened by hunger and decay, not sluggish like it but that will not help for long, the clammy being determined to bleed you dry and feast on your corpse and you are drowning drowning drowningDROWNINGWITHWRETCHEDTORMENT MAKE.THE.PAIN.STOP-

A scream of your name, sword calloused hands yank you away from claws and fangs (because nothing with blunt teeth and nails should be able to wound someone so throughly), you waver on your feet, swaying, supported by a warm, strong body and pulled away. A sword slashes the foul being away from you and you go lax, numb with pain.

First, First was supporting you. Keeping you steady, stopping you from falling, snarling at the corpse with a lion's fury, holding you protectively. Time tears by him like a man possessed, frenzied with the look of a man looking at his worst nightmare and growling in denial. The Links, wounded but alive, the Chain had met you halfway.

The last thing you remember before losing conciousness as adrenaline leaves your body and everything goes dark, is wishing that they'll burn it to be sure it's gone for good. It's the kindest thing that can be done for a such a wretched existence.

You'd be okay.

#linked universe x reader #technically #lu first x reader #lu time x reader #but mostly only hinted at because things didn't go according to plan #anyway my pitch is that dead hands died of hunger more so than torture which is why they are so darn bitey #and that being an undead being in Hyrule is horror at it's finest actually and in this essay-#Really can't wait till exam season is finally over so I can ACTUALLY dig up those essays lmao #missing scenes include and are not limited to: First comforting Reader after because he knows intimately how unpleasant it is #to be restrained underground alone #and the two fall asleep on each other to reassure the other is still there #and protective Time caring for Reader because having Dead Hand Trauma™ dug up is not fun #On a Scale of Viscerally Hating the Dead Hands from Biggest to Lowest: Time First Twilight Warriors Sky Wild Hyrule Legend Four Wind #I will not elaborate why at this moment #And now I'll take a darn nap lol #summer writes linktober 2023 #summer writes linktober shadow 2023 #summer writes #Feral Reader #Reader gets to be capable as a treat

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cyberscratch · 10 months

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A new ref for Lemmy, and an official design and introduction of Limmy in This Universe Has Lemons In It! Limmy was created by the Guardian of the Lemonverse (any pronouns) as an attempt to stop Lemmy from what they are doing, which is creating portals to travel through various universes and dimensions to have fun. Not only is that a risk for the balance of the universe, but GotL just dislikes this kid having fun and wants to see them stopped.

Not wanting to do it in it's own hands, it created Limmy, an angel dog meant to be an direct opposite to Lemmy. Limmy, however, doesn't do much to stop Lemmy, other than following them and bickering. Their relationship is very Tom and Jerry rivalry-esk.

(Names color coded for myself to read easier due to the similar names!)

Fun fact, Limmy was originally going to be based on limes (Lime Angel), but I kept that concept for GotL - and made them more angel-like instead.

#GotL as he has been named for the time being uses any pronouns but it/he are the most used just saying #also this little story/oc universe has been planned for a while so i find it funny that GotL has basically the same motivations #miguel in across the spiderverse minus the trauma and more godly power #i just always had an fascination with like...the idea of the universe...multiverses...different dimensions and traveling across them #ive included this in most if not all my oc projects like this actually! at first mostly inspired by gravity falls #which is literally my favorite cartoon ever #i am watching a 2 and a half long video on the timeline rn its so good please watch it its by hana hyperfixates. while working on this i #watched their first 2 hour long gravity falls video. literally newest favorite video essay project? its very good it talks about queerness #in gravity falls and its their passion project and its so obvious there was a lot of effort put into it. anyways away from my tangent i go #'lemmy' put my actual tags here #oc art #character design #oc ref #ref #tuhlii #this universe has lemons in it #lemon demon #UNSURE again if i wanna use '-core' tags on this. i dont like using them much anymore and im only gonna use 'weirdcore' for some kind of #music bc theres no specifics to what type of music i exactly like that lemmy is also based on aside from lemon demon of course #[Lemmy]#[Limmy]#guz art #[2023]#fun fact! i spent like 20+ or so minutes stressing over GotL's possible name until i settled on this goofy title!#its meant to found goofy. like at first you think its gonna sound cool and then youre hit with 'lemonverse'#which it...technically is! where lemmy is from it's like... a connected bunch of worlds and universes and just places all based on #lemon demon songs and other content. tuhlii is basically a love letter to ena + lemon demon + old/childhood internet ?

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blackhillverse · 3 months

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do i want to play black widow in the background while studying for my ukrainian grammar lecture, only to get mad halfway through because of how poorly this movie portrays slavic people or should i just study in silence.

#this movie is my roman empire #and i don’t mean it in a flattering way #the only thing this movie got right are the braids #thats it #if you want to make a movie with slavic characters and set in eastern europe at least do some basic research i BEEEEEEEED YOUUUUU #its been 3 years since this movie came out and i’m still FUUUUMING #i could write a whole ass essay why this movie sucks not only due to a poor portrayal of slavic ppl (nothing new here)#but how they handled natasha’s character #god #i made my therapist listen to my ramblings about THIS topic once and the poor woman had to sit for an hour and take notes on natasha #bonkers #anyways #i feel like i have already posted something very similiar but i do not careeeee #moira speaks #semi personal #natasha romanoff #marvel #black widow #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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soldier-poet-king · 11 months

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Got asked for my professional opinion today on a complex legal issue by a much senior coworker 😭🥺 on the basis of my response, i got asked to join in on a meeting with some higher ups to explain what I had explained to said coworker 😭🥺 I am going to get a good grade in Career and Being Smart, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve

#alas my boss isnt here today to see how smart and competent i am when ppl as abt stuff I actually know abt #im sorry. i find thid one weird niche legal thing. SO INTERESTING #it was a sort or coworker who asked. shes also an archivist. but soon to be retired. and for a related but separate org #but our offices our next to each other #and i got to be smart and competent:)#nothing like riding that high of being extremely knowledgeable abt random specific things #its like. the same high i got from being in school #i DONT miss writing a billion essays a term. i DO miss positive reinforcement and academic approvak #since academics is the only thing i was ever good at #yes yes gifted kid burnout but more like. i was a poorly adjusted mental ill kid but i did Good In School tm #so no one ever bothered to help me. and now academics are the only way o can feel valued #I LOVE BEING COMPETENT AND SMART.#there i said it. i AM a horrible prideful gremlin #and its been a year since grad and thats the longest I've ever gone without teacher/professor approval #im dying. need me some external validation #i am goid at what i do. there i. said jt #i am a good information professional. i like metatdata. and finnicky digital files. and obscured IP issues that only affect #*affect very certain types of fonds #I EVEN LIKED REWRITING A LEGAL DEED #who have i become. alternate universe me was a bureaucrat. im so sorry. i love paperwork #and i love being PRECISE. everything needs to be finnicky and exact and say what it means and mean what it says #and it all has to be in service of smthn bigger and greater and more good #ironically. in my personal time. i am. messy lil bitch. but theres no room for finnicky wordsmith puzzles irl #i like this far more as a job.#sorry rae we were just talking abt how u hate medical records management and here i am like. 😍😍😍 legal issues in archives

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fitzrove · 2 months

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Rant in the tags... I am insufferable

#i keep watching video essays that annoy me.....#largely about like idk 'girlhood' 💀#and they never make sense or come across as relatable because smth like loneliness or relationship drama or identity for women is ALWAYS #connected to relationship history with men 💀#and h*terosexuality is treated as an universal aspect of womanhood #this also makes many stories unrelatable to me. a man existing is not a crime but stories saying smth deep about womanhood through how women #feel about men makes it alienating when you don't see the world that way #also idk some video essays are just soo pretentious and the person talking obviously doesnt know enough abt the topic #this doesnt only go for 'girlhood' type essays btw it also goes for the stuff i watch about minecraft and ts2 etc (yeah...) 😂💀#anyway yeah where is the essay about the universal girl experience of wanting to be crown prince rudolf (JOKING)#no but the thing is... watching dune made me realise... ppl never let a girl be a hero in blockbusters IN THE SAME WAY men get to be #st*r w*rs tried but the overall plot failed in many parts & people couldnt be normal abt it #idk i do think its because of how sex and romance are treated way differently in women's stories....... women never have those happen #just randomly on the side as things that build her up and somewhat affect the hero's journey - it often becomes About The Man #(because often it is a man)#idk #where's girl p*ul atr*ides. where's girl j*sus. where's girl crown prince rudolf #(in my fanfics.... that last one is in my fanfics...)#well just one so far unfortunately 😔

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malewifehenrycooldown · 5 months

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yeah yeah i got recommended that Henry Cooldown analysis video whatever. i am still not over people comparing Henry to a medieval knight, NOT even taking the time to unpack that said mental image of a knight is 'mostly' associated with the British Monarchy*, an extension of its Empire that *checks notes* did a long list of atrocities like imperialism and colonialism, and also (multiple) genocides.

Henry is NOT British, he is Irish. Although considering the history of Ireland and how poorly the British Empire has treated them (amongst SO MANY OTHER COUNTRIES AND DIASPORAS), yeah it's NOT surprising that an Irish man like Henry is essentially forced to adopt quote on quote 'British sensibilities' to 'survive'. <- intentional imagery or not, the implications are not lost on me.

Like okay, calling out the comparison is cool but it sure would be nice if people went further to unpack what that means and implies in the long term. you know, like ACTUAL CRITICAL ANALYSIS?!

#I COULD do a whole essay about this. but i don't have the spoons to do so.#this is were i drop the big ball of information about me because fun fact! I am IRISH AND SCOTTISH. AND GREEK. so like.#so yeah i REALLY don't like the british #i hope in alternate universe i make youtube video essays about no more heroes and successfully argue how its about inter-generational traum #shallow rambles #nomoreposting #technically I was quite surprised by being recommended it. but looking at the comments i realised that their interpretation #is like the buy the books obvious surface level analysis of henry's character. not actually. thinking about the deeper things #behind his character. like. are we really going to ignore how his memories were wiped when he was adopted? okay.#to me henry is an example of someone finally confronting their trauma. how they cope is a whole other thing but henry is second #to jeane (the sister) that actually takes the time to confront the trauma although unfortunately this is mostly implied off-screen #travis BARELY acknowledges how fucked up it was for him and his siblings to be split apart and raised by different families #this got really fucking personal and i don't think anyone has actually cared enough to even consider the historical subtext #of these characters but that's just my take.#also i'm not fucking listening to a man explain to me what henry is. you know in a filmbro way. i have my own brain and interpretation and #that is all that matters to me. if you liked the guys video that's fine but honestly i am just not that interested in the essay.#you like henry for the rivalry trope. I like henry for other reasons that are open ended. we are NOT the same.#btw not EVERYTHING is about kill the past. it feels so reductive to ONLY analyse suda's work as a connected series #because it implies each one can't stand on their own merits!! that's NOT good analysis!! his work can stand on their own individually!#*about the whole knight and british monarchy thing there are other knights in other countries but unfortunately we only #think about knights in a VERY british-centric way. just thought to bring that up.#no i wont make a video essay about any of this i value my anonymity.#no i won't apologise for waking up and choosing violence today

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phantastragoria · 9 months

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do you have a favourite portrayal of a character in the gotg game!! who is it and why <3

Oh I think they're all great honestly!!! Part of why I love the game so much is that genuinely, the whole team + supporting characters are written with such obvious love of the source material and equal attention between them all. When I see comments of people saying who their favorite character was from the game and the answer always being different from each person I'm like!! That's how it SHOULD be!!! They're the Guardians of the Galaxy (plural) the focus shouldn't all fall on a singular character like most other GotG media usually ends up as 😭

The two (sorry I can't pick just one) whom I think benefit the most from the game though are Drax and Gamora because they're almost always sidelined both in-and-out of universe by most of the various writers (especially as of late) and in turn the viewers/readers. I've been told plenty of times that they're the most boring members of the "main" team, BUT IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE THAT WAY! The amount of love the game versions get (by the few who've played it at least) proves that 🥺

I've never really liked 616 Drax shifting to being a complete clown during the 90s and such (and even less so when the MCU followed along 💀) So I appreciate the game taking a bit of his seriousness from the DnA run and just making him struggle with nuance and context clues in a less exaggerated way (autistic Drax I still believe in u) and I feel the focus put on him and how losing his original family + the aftermath deeply affected him hits pretty hard here because it's treated very seriously and shown in depth, especially with how his family (wife) gets actual focus. I cannot tell you anything about Yvette in comparison to Hovat, who actually seemed to have had a personality lol (AND she was on their village's council like omg imagine having more to you than just being The Housewife) Though I will say I flip and flop on my thoughts about Heather being disconnected from Drax's life in this universe... The TLDR is that I think his arc here specifically works stronger when he has to come to terms with losing his entire family and accepting the life he currently has with the Guardians. BUT!!! I very much appreciate that Heather is still confirmed to exist within this universe, even if that means her dad issues would have to be dealt with in a different context if we ever get to see her.

Also? Shoutout to the writers actually bringing up the intense paranoia that always kneecapped 616 Drax but having that be a turning point in his backstory here, with that conversation he has with Peter where he talks about how he was becoming so paranoid of everyone being a chitauri/Thanos conspirator to the point of literally turning into an obsessed maniac like Thanos, and realizing that he desperately needed to turn his life around, it's so ough.

Out of the already many great conversations throughout the game, I think the ones with him are the most poignant. My favorite scene in the whole game is Drax and Pete's little moment on Knowhere... makes me go wahhh

(l also love that out of everyone on the team, it's his headspace that we quite literally get to go into. You KNOW that if this was any other media it'd be going into Rocket or Groot's head and likely treated as a joke.)

And oh my god, Gamora...

I find it so extremely refreshing that her role in the plot doesn't revolve purely around the men in her life, and instead, it's nearly exclusively her connection with other women. Or in the most direct obstacle she has to deal with, being how she starts projecting to the millionth degree on Nikki's situation for reminding her of what happened to her and Nebula. I find that infinitely more fascinating as a reading of her character rather than just dating drama or her arc getting completely overtaken by a man's instead.

And especially in her friendship with Mantis, who, despite having all these futures she's constantly seeing and having to navigate, still makes time to do her best to help her 🥺 From saving her life and being the one who put her on the path to healing on Lamentis, to getting her to join the Guardians and still checking in on her when she's able 😭 Friendship between women can be so powerful... u love to see it (🏳️‍🌈)

I also find it nice that there's this emphasis on her recovering mentally, and the comparison between Thanos essentially teaching her to just Deal with the shit in her life through very simplistic meditation versus the priests of Pama actually teaching her something to help soothe the mind :^( and that she still has moments of relapsing essentially. I find that to be a realistic take on recovery because that's just part of the journey since healing is not linear... and I think it's very sweet that she finds comfort in collecting something ---girly--- like dolls. Love to see a person reclaim a part of their childhood that they weren't allowed to experience. And how she's allowed to make BAD JOKES?? Imagine a woman being written to have multiple dimensions, crazy and absolutely unthinkable, I know.

There's this extremely specific theme in relation to Gamora across media that's been rattling around in my brain since first playing the game. When near the end during the revisit to Knowhere, she's about to completely lose it when Peter tries talking -for- her on what she's so upset about before immediately shooting him down, and she explains what happened between her and Nebula and she starts crying. It really struck me right then that she's never given a moment to cry elsewhere (or in the 616's case, the quite literal inability to.) aside from her shedding a Single Manly Tear (Original Sin) or a single moment out of legit fear (MCU 💀) because she's a hashtag Strong Independant Woman who can't be vulnerable etc etc. But for her to cry in front of the people she's come to care about, It gives her a moment of true vulnerability that I don't think she's allowed ever in most other media.

That and all of the above hits hard and is what makes me genuinely believe that the writers cared about her in the narrative and tried to do right by her when every other bit of media really hasn't nor cared to the majority of the time since the 90s :'^/ Brings a tear to my eye that she's allowed to just... exist in the narrative on her own merits and not on what she can provide to someone else's story.

#lex thoughts #gotg thoughts #universe: eidos game #gotg2008 #sorry for asking for a question then immediately disappearing for a month 💔 I'm on the most stressful roadtrip ever #i 🫶 you for asking about them though the Eidos gotg are my everything and i won't shut up about them if given the chance #very funny to me that all these important moments happen on Knowhere. Strange things can happen at the end of the universe.#The end page of W&tIW 09 is the only other Gamora moment of vulnerability across media that i can specifically pinpoint #But it's more self reflection in a way of a heavily traumatic experience that I don't feel ever truly got resolved within the 616 IMO #And I find it a specific point to be made when Gamora is/isn't allowed to feel or literally denied things that are stereotypically-#-categorized as -feminine- (which is dumb to assign gender roles to a simple human emotion such as CRYING.-#-But you get what I mean I hope) We play fast and loose with gender around here pardner I think all of the gotg should cry more #but in Gamora's case specifically it Hits Different knowing her past and treatment throughout media #i could also heavily go into the way the game adapts Peter's character in relation to his element guns but that's an essay for another time #just because -i- find that extremely fascinating doesn't mean i think he should particularly be the main focus (and he isnt)#bc pete rocket and groot are the ones that already get all the attention (even if i dont agree with how they're written elsewhere)#i just find it more engaging for the other two main characters of the team that always get sidelined by the writers actually being put in-#-the spotlight with equal attention given to them for once to be sooo -shakes fist #sorry for the intense word salad i hope i make sense lol ESSAY/RANT OVER .🤐

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