#it's fiiine

[ihavenoconsistentinterests]

I fear I have started a new fic 😔😔 It's shorter though so I'm hoping to finish it in a couple days and get back to the main one

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 6: Forced to Stay Awake (Time)

I spent entirely too long trying to get through the master trials in botw and this was the result

Read on Ao3

CW for hallucinations, sleep deprivation, broken bones, blood and injury

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Two thousand and one. Two thousand and two. Two thousand and three. Two thousand and four…

One by one, the seconds slide by. Time counts them out as his blade carves through monsters by the hundreds, blood pounding in his ears, in his head; faltering feet chasing escape, chasing slumber. He watches them gather and multiply, disperse into minutes and hours and days.

…a week.

One week spent trapped in this space of glancing shadows and leering eyes. One week spent resisting the urge to fall down on aching knees and beg whoever may be listening that just once he be allowed to sleep. One week spent slicing at the same monsters, defeating the same enemies.

Over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

Again, his sword slashes into the soft meat of a moblin’s shoulder. Again, he leaps out of reach of a stalfos’ swinging blades.

Again, he raises his face to the sky and screams.

“Have I not completed the challenge yet?”

Blood runs hot and fast down his side. Pain splinters through his every part. His steps are stumbling. His armor is a weight he can hardly bear to carry, his blade even more so. His head pounds to the beat of his heart. 

Ten levels. One cascading after another in an endless plummet. A nightmare where he loses his grip on the edge of a cliff and falls. 

He has completed them all. And those before them. And those before that. 

How many has it been now?

His mind may be cursed with attention to every hour and minute and second that passes him by. But to add up the countless floors he has eradicated of beasts…that’s something it will not abide.

He stumbles sideways, catches himself on the wall. His eye is so dry he fears he won’t be able to see out of it much longer. His voice is a gravelly, strained thing. It does not sound like his own.

“Is my performance still not fit to allow my release?”

Laughter fills his ears, echoes in his head. A voice rings out.

“You have done well, hero. You have cleared these tasks. Prepare yourself for the next set.”

It is the same taunting tones he has heard for one week, six days, three hours, seven minutes, and nine seconds.

The same that wrapped him in this terrible embrace and has yet to see fit to allow him out. 

A challenge it had claimed this to be, in a voice silken with deception. A test necessary to allow the nine heroes who had been dumped so unceremoniously into the dungeon…to leave. 

“Only one may enter,” it had crooned, echoing about the cavernous space they stood within. “Only one may attempt the battles fought without slumber. But once they have completed all our provided tasks, then every one of you will be given leave to exit this place.”

Time had volunteered before anyone else could. And though they had shouted that they would take his place, though their glances had seared into his back as he stepped forward to meet his fate, he had not cared.

Watching his descendant plummet towards the icy grip of death was enough – is enough. Twilight had risen from that bed alive and well. A part of Time had died that night, all the same. 

He can endure suffering beyond all comparison. But to sit by and watch his boys go to a terrible fate? That is something he lacks the strength to do.

Perhaps, it was a selfish decision, he thinks now as the ground caves beneath his feet and he falls, falls to the depths of this maze of soft and hazy gray; where beady eyes await him and clawed fingers snatch and slumber endlessly escapes his desperate grasp. 

Perhaps, he has doomed his fellow heroes to a far more terrible fate than he. But the dungeon had already proven itself strange long before they had reached that final room. The walls themselves had seemed cunning, the ground conniving, the building…

Cruel. 

Blood had splattered too many of the wizened floorboards. Too many corners harbored piles of guts and bone. Too many corridors whispered of horrors unimaginable. 

The stench of it had crawled beneath his skin like a creeping skulltula, unsettled him almost as much as the Shadow Temple so long ago. Maybe even more. 

So, truly, there had never been a question. Whether self-centered or virtuous, the choice was always him.

He had gone forth with that cursed voice applauding his courage and his brothers demanding that he fight with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Time had walked forward with a promise that he would come back.

Now, however, he is growing unsure that that was ever an option in the first place.

He is accustomed to remaining awake for periods of time longer than are likely healthy. He knows the gradual descent into madness better than he knows his own soul. 

But that does not make this any easier. 

Redeads and gibdos and wallmasters creep through this room. He plummets into the midst of them, scrambles upward as they rear back, readying to let loose a cacophony of screams. 

From the last dregs of magic within him, Time brings forth fire. He sends it soaring, ravenous and roaring, from the tip of his blade. 

Still, it is not enough. A wallmaster falls soundlessly from above. With harsh, bony claws it grasps him, lifts him as high as it is allowed to fly. There isn’t time to grasp in his pouch for something to use against it. Fast as lightning, it reels back and hurls him against the far wall.

Bones crack. Blood fills his mouth. He hits the ground with stars in his vision and beyond that, darkness.

He will not be allowed to give into it. He knows that with a certainty that strikes through to his very soul. 

So, Time shoves himself up and slaps a mask onto his face. Dizzy and weightless, feverish and heavy, he stumbles forward. Dragging his right foot behind him, he notches an arrow in his bow and aims for the beasts that can no longer see him.

…

One week becomes two. Two becomes three.

Still, the ground caves beneath him. Still, he stumbles, lurching drunkenly, through crowds of beasts who seek his demise. 

His attacks grow weaker, more desperate. There are no strategies now, no tactics. Mistakes compound one upon another, each more excruciating than the last. 

His wounds multiply. He drags himself more than walks. Sometimes, he is forced to crawl. Shattered bones shift nauseatingly with every movement. Bruises ache. Gashes weep. Blood is everywhere. He tastes it, smells it, feels it caked and clinging to his flesh. 

The echoes of screams fill his ears always. They cannot be his own. They sound too shrill, too desperate, too much like a plea. 

His surroundings are indistinct, smeared like ink blots on paper. Light bursts randomly at the edges of his vision. He sees people sometimes — Twilight fighting beside him; Warriors reaching to catch him as he falls; Malon shouting his name, racing towards him as weapons and flame, lightning and ice, toss him about. A puppet jerking on taut strings. 

He tries to speak to them, tries to touch them. Yet, they dissipate, early morning fog beneath the assault of the sun’s burning light. 

He begs, then. He rages at the sky he cannot see. Screams requests that will never be met. 

A trap. That is what this place is. A prison. He can no longer recall entering it, or when he did, or why. Reason has left him. The clock ticking endlessly within him has ground to a halt. 

Sanity slips through trembling fingers slick with crimson. He laughs to see it go.

“It was only a matter of time,” he murmurs to Navi. “I have always been doomed. Perhaps now, like you, I will simply disappear.”

(He is deprived of that method of flight. He remains. But she does not. She disappears without a sound.)

To lament so long…

What a terrible fate. 

Time fetches his ocarina. He brings it to his lips. He plays and plays and plays.

The day does not restart. The sun does not come out. Time neither slows nor speeds up.

“It is hopeless,” he tells Twilight. The sobs come then, haggard and choked and manic. “I’m sorry. I cannot save you all.”

His pup looks at him sorrowfully. He says nothing. He leaves Time behind. 

Time crumples and waits for the end.

The moon will fall, though it is invisible. Clock Town dances with the fervor of madmen, though the music does not reach his ringing ears. Flames fill his vision and he does not feel their heat.

And when he plummets again, when he hits a bed of water and ice…he does not feel it either. Not truly. For, to him the burn in his lungs is the heat of a fiery moon, the sensation of suffocation that of the guilt holding his chest in a vice. 

To him, the terrified shouts of familiar voices are the dying wails of loved ones he has failed.

[bcbdrums]

Drakken: All mistakes made by an orthodontist are accidental. Ron: Ohh and, you know, they make a lot of them! So before you go in for your appointment you'd better brace yourself! Rufus: *chattering* Drakken: Eh, what'd he say..? Ron: He said to get used to it. You know the drill. Shego (to Kim): I miss the cooking show.

[beansontoast39000]

Omg I made this and then panicked cos I realised I am not interesting whatsoever LMAO

Regardless, here is my introduction I should have made 4 months ago!!! Yaaaayy 😭

Let’s also ignore that I’m a fucking five yr old who can’t write in a straight line, k? 💔

[glacierruler]

Thank you @nandysparadox for listening to me ramble about this lol

Modern College AU (but with gods and magic and stuff).

Established: Odypen

Eventual: Odysseus/Eurylochus/Polites/Penelope/Circe

Baby Tele Baby Tele Baby Tele

5 years old

Antinous is Telemachus's babysitter. The suitors are his friends

He's on the soccer team

So are the other suitors

Odysseus is the Drum Major

Eurylochus is 1st chair clarinet

Polites is 1st chair flute

Rest of the crew are band members

War between colleges started because Aphrodite promised the Prince of Troy University a date with Helen (and to not upset the goddess she agreed). And then he tried to keep her.

It didn't go well, she punched him and refused to talk to him or anyone else, and then she got rescued. (She manages to sneak out before they let the horse in, because everyone is marveling at the horse. But she is upset.)

In going back to their school they get hungry and go to the Lotus Eatery, but quickly learn the food is grass. And they want actual food.

Lotus eaters tell them of the Cyclops Cave

In the Cyclops Cave you can eat as much as you want for free however only if you (individual) can beat Polyphemus

Polyphemus

7'2

Odysseus introduces himself as "Nobody" with several of the crew with him (the rest are waiting to be seated).

They give Polyphemus drugged wine in order to beat him

Odysseus brags that he beat Polyphemus and uses his name

This is how Odysseus can no longer be near large bodies of water.

They then meet up with Circe who is in her mansion (She's a rich sorceress okay).

Turns them into pigs "What are MEN doing here >:("

Odysseus is spared (only because Hermes warned him this would happen and gave him Moly).

"Oh you're Pen's husband, ngl your gf is cute. FINE I'll turn you back."

Elpeanor is fast asleep and needs to be dragged out.

It takes 13 days but everyone makes it back

Penelope is pissed at Odysseus

"Was any of that NECESSARY!!!"

They make up, but not before Antinous takes Ody aside and goes: Look dude, your wife and son were worried. Also if you're gonna date your band members too just tell her. She's poly don't worry.

[shooks-stupid-oc-askblog]

Classes had just ended for the day, and Shino was almost ready to just dip.

Emphasis on almost.

"shino-chaaaaaannn---"

Before she could react, Sakura had already descended upon her, much to her chagrin. How annoying....

"Get off of me Yurei."

"but shino-channn" the girl pouted, still clinging to her arm. "i'm sad......"

Shino grimaced. Greaaat. May as well just humor this, it was probably the only thing that would make her go away. "What the hell could you possibly be sad about."

...Hey, she said she'd humor her. Not that she'd be nice about it.

Sakura looked up at her with a big ol' pathetic stare. "well..... i've been trying to get more friends like you told me to, right? and i noticed some of my classmates seem to like flowers, so i thought 'hey! my name is a flower, maybe they'd let me be friends with them!' but...." she slid down Shino's arm, pressing her cheek against it as she did so. "they already have a sakura..... so i can't be friends with them....."

She was silent for a few seconds, just.... Processing how ridiculous this literal non-issue was. ".......Are you actually serious."

Sakura nodded. "of course i'm serious!!! they wouldn't want to be friends with another sakura when they already have one.... why would they?"

Shino let out an annoyed huff, finally wresting her arm free and crossing them in front of her chest. "That makes literally no sense Yurei. Why the hell would your name matter in the slightest."

"because.....! there can't be two sakuras! that wouldn't make any sense!!"

Jesus. This was so stupid.... And so incredibly annoying....

...But. She did have an idea, that might get this pink annoyance out of her hair.

...For a while, atleast.

But still.

"Did you even talk to them? Or did you just. Assume they wouldn't want to be your friends because you just so happen to share a name with someone they're already friends with."

Sakura looked down. "well.... i was too sacred to ask because i figured they'd say no....."

"....Ugh." She sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look. If I offered to ask them for you, would you at least just give it a shot?"

Her eyes lit up. "ah- really shino-chan??? you'd do that for me??? yaaaaay--!!! ah, let's go right now, hee hee~!"

"Wait I didn't mean-"

-But it was too late. Sakura was already dragging her down the hall in search of her classmates.

Annoying..... Ugh, this better work out how she was hoping it would....

[ @newbogggg ]

[whosname]

He lied

[i-mybrunettelady]

ngl the more i think abt the term "boy sober" the more depressed i get because you can't be boy sober if you've never been boy crazy. it gets me the same level of sadness as saying everyone should have a hoe phase does.

i'm not saying either of those things are bad but none of those things apply to me and i am sad about it

[shares-a-vest]

The absolute sinking dread I just felt flipping over the calendar in the kitchen 😭😂😅

Guys (gn), I'm already exhausted.

[ace-malarky]

Y'all ever get a story idea that you know is gonna fuck you up on account of where you are mentally and also as a person

And like I know I should probably let it lie and it was half a joke anyway because it was somewhere past midnight and Spro was also drunk

But like

Man

Sure ain't leaving me alone, I've already written two separate half scenes and some more ideas

[chronicowboy]

keep telling myself that all i have to do is make it past friday then i can start writing again but i know that's not true because of how many deadlines i've been ignoring 😭

[caroandcats]

You know how when you hang out with someone long enough, you sometimes get some of their traits?

I think buck definitely adopted bobbys love language of cooking for the people he loves

Oh yes definitely!!

I mean, the first thing he did when Maddie came back was to make her breakfast. And let's not even talk about him cooking for Eddie and Chris.

I also would have loved to see the first time he succeeded to cook an entire meal for Bobby. Bobby must have been so proud and would not have hesitated to tell him. Just imagine Buck's face🥺

[chalkrub]

pwyw thingy from previous opening 🌸

[halfdeadwallfly]

i accidentally got a bit too unhinged on my instagram story

look it's late by someone's standards probably and i'm fucking tired so

[straightyuri]

oh don't reblog that. gross.

[raphodraws]

very rough and quick souyo because who has time these days??