Sirassban - ISwearIDon’tEatPaper

Israel mistook three hostages for Palestinian civilians and killed them.

Israel killed 20,000 civilians and counting. I wonder how many Palestinians of these 20,000 killed will make it on the front page of CNN, or any news outlet for that matter.

A Cinnamon Mask

Warnings: A panic attack happens, and a character being poisoned in the past is strongly alluded to.

1/3 fics!

The fire in the hearth crackled, filling the comfortable silence. The Chain had stopped their current trek through the snowy land of Hebra to rest, and Wild had guided them to the Hebra Trailhead Lodge, which was luckily devoid of its common patrons, allowing all nine of them and their various gear to fit inside the small cabin.

Wind had commandeered the bed, wrapped in various extra blankets with the remnants of a spicy elixir in the bottle he held. Being from a tropical climate and constantly under the sun, the pirate was not acclimated to cold weather. Next to him was Sky, the knight happy to be resting under a roof, even if the cold had little to no effect on him. A perk of growing up and living on an island in the sky.

One. Two.

The others were faring better than the sailor, even Legend, with his lack of pants. He claimed to be used to weather extremes, and refused to elaborate further. Sat on either side of him were Hyrule and Four, the two seemingly content to help him repair rips in their clothes.

Three. Four. Five.

On top of the barrels next to the hearth was a pile of Time’s armor, the man in question slipping on the warm doublet Wild had offered over his own tunic- the cold metal of his armor would do no good to keep Time warm. A quiet conversation with Warriors and Twilight was held as Wild piped in from where he was making something in the pot.

Six. Seven. Eight. Counting himself, 9.

Time adjusted the warm doublet, it surprisingly fit, with no tightness around his shoulders, a common issue for him. He kneeled down to reach his pack, digging around to find the thick blanket that had been packed (but knowing Malon, she probably put an extra one or two in).

A sharp whistle broke through the quiet atmosphere, demanding attention to the hearth, where Wild stood with six steaming mugs and Twilight behind him with three.

“I made us some hot chocolate, it’s a recipe I learned from Uma in Hateno,” appreciative murmurs rose, “And don’t worry, Twilight didn’t do any of the making.” That drew a few laughs from the heroes as the two proceeded to pass out the drinks.

Nodding his thanks, Time wrapped his hands around the mug, feeling both the warmth and the craftsmanship of it. Must be one of the mugs Sky carved, judging by the intricate patterns and steady lines.

“It smells good,” Wind took a sip, “and it tastes good too! I don’t think I’ve ever had this before!” The sailor’s hands were wrapped tightly around the mug, likely attempting to leech the heat out.

“It’d be a mite strange if you’d’ve had this before, being from a warm climate and such.” Twilight was nursing his own mug, as he sat down next to Sky.

The conversation flowed easily as Wild’s hot cocoa loosened the grip of any remaining cold, at some point turning onto the topic of stories from their adventures.

“There’s no way! That’s impossible!” Four shouted, face painted in complete disbelief.

“It’s not impossible, I’ve done it! When we next get to my Hyrule, I’ll ask Gor Coron and see if he would be up for another round.”

“You’re telling me you sumo wrestled a Goron? The people that are partially made of rock? Those guys?” Legend seemed skeptical, his left eyebrow lifted up.

Twilight struggled to defend himself as the younger heroes ganged up on him, poking and prodding for answers, or in Legend’s case, trying to get him to “tell the truth”.

A choked whine snapped Time’s attention away from the conversation, his ears flicking as he turned to face the direction of the noise.

He was met with a wide-eyed Warriors, staring down at the mug that rested in his tight yet trembling grip. In one motion, his grip loosened and the mug clattered to the floor, spraying the (now cold) hot cocoa across the floor.

Another choked off whine, and Time slowly advanced towards the captain, keeping his hands in view, as if he were approaching an easily-spooked horse. One foot stepped on a creaky floorboard and Warriors’ head whipped up, still wide-eyed, but Time could better see his expression.

Pure and utter panic.

Watching him carefully, the elder hero noticed that the younger had positioned himself into a position where he could both attack and defend, likely done subconsciously. Time raised both his hands up, showing he was unarmed.

“Captain… what happened?” In a flash of blue Time was knocked to the ground, and Warriors had effectively cornered himself, the panic in his eyes brighter. The war hero trembled as he brandished his sword.

A pair of calloused hands helped Time back upright, “Why did he attack you?” The rancher mumbled, gaze locked onto the captain.

“He’s panicking, that’s what. Something set him off.”

A few heads swiveled to the veteran, who only shrugged and gave a non-committal noise.

Warriors was muttering something, and Time strained his ears to try and catch what he was saying.

“Poison… trust… cinnamon…”

The rest was too mumbled to understand. It seemed his descendant had also heard what Warriors had been muttering, as he tilted his head in confusion.

“Poison? Cinnamon? What is he-“

“Fuck.”

All 7 heads snapped to the veteran, whose ears were pinned against his head, a look of recognition in his eyes. He growled.

“He thinks his drink was poisoned.”

“What?” Wild stared at Legend, a quizzical, yet worried, expression adorning his face.

“Cinnamon. It’s used to mask the taste and smell of poisons.” Legend explained.

“How do-“

“Not the time, Rulie.”

Time wracked his brain for something, for anything, when he landed on a moment a few weeks back, when he and the captain were up for watch.

Shit.

“I know what happened,” several heads turned to look at him, “he thinks we tried to poison him.” He turned his eye back to Warriors, the panic still evident in his gaze.

Again, he shuffled forward, palms held upward in a placating gesture. Warriors pressed himself further into the corner, his breathing picking up and hitching on every other breath.

“Link.”

The utterance of his actual name snapped Warriors partially back into reality, gaze now finally realizing Time.

“There you are. Link, listen, we aren’t trying to hurt you.”

Time advanced forward again, now within reaching distance of Warriors, and he slowly descended onto his knees, the joints creaking in protest.

“Can I touch you?” He waited until Warriors processed the question.

A nod.

Settling his hands on the captain’s knees, he started tapping an easy rhythm.

“Steady yourself. In for 4… hold for 7… out for 4…” Warriors copied his directions, breath hitching a few times, but steadily evening out.

“There we go. You’re okay. What are 5 things you can see?”

“You, the bed, the others, Sky’s shield, mugs.”

His rhythm continued.

“Good, now, 4 things you can touch?”

“The floor, my sword, my scarf, the wall.”

The breaths evened out more.

“3 things you can hear?”

“The fire, the wind, and creaking wood.”

Warriors’ eyes lost their panicked sheen.

“Almost there. 2 things you can smell?”

“Fire, and- and cinnamon.”

Time kept up his tapping.

“1 thing you can taste?”

“Nothing. I think I burnt my tongue.”

A quiet sigh of relief flooded through the group, who chuckled at Warriors’ comment. Time breathed deeply out his nose, stopping his rhythm and instead gripping at the captain’s knees. A scarred hand rested over his and squeezed.

“Better now, Captain?”

Another squeeze.

“Thanks to you, old man.” He chuckled and stood up, joints clicking as he went, offering Warriors a hand and pulling the hero up.

“So-“

“Shut up. Don’t apologize, damn it.”

“Legend…”

“No, Wars. You had a completely valid reaction to something. Don’t go fucking apologizing for it.” The vet snapped, crossing his arms tightly. Warriors crossed the room and set a hand on the pink hair.

“…Nice to know you care, pricker bush.” His hand was a blur as he messed up the vet’s hair, who squeaked and batted at his arm.

Time watched as they laughed at the two’s antics, a small grin on his face.

Warriors wasn’t fully okay, his hands still held a slight tremble and his eyes still a tad too wide. But Time knew that with time (ha), and his brothers, that the captain would be as right as rain sooner than later.

JuliArtWorld on Instagram

Jeckole my favorite sexed up abusive lesbians 🥰

(This is a sketch btw I'm lazy 😋)

i can hear my mom blaming dad for eating too much shit that he really shouldnt eat (dads dont care)