When Is Someone Going To Write A TFTG And Marble Hornets Crossover? Dont Tell Me I Have To Write It Myself.

when is someone going to write a TFTG and Marble Hornets crossover? Don’t tell me I have to write it myself. Personally I think Jessica would’ve got along well with Rosa

look at this video of a mouse eating soup and bread and butter

Felt like writing some whump tonight, and who better to write for than my favorite angsty hero?

Warnings: description of blood and major injury, unreality/derealization

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When Legend returned to consciousness, he quickly lost it again just by the simple act of trying to move. In those few moments, all he knew was the agony that spread through his awareness starting from somewhere near his gut. It engulfed him, like a blooming, fiery explosion, despite him not being able to see a single thing. He passed out quickly, and the next time he woke, he made sure to keep very... very still.

His head pounded as he blinked his eyes open to darkness. The air smelled thick and seasoned with dust and the ground beneath his back felt jagged and rough like he laid on a bed of rocks.

The more awake he became, the more he realized that the simple act of breathing hurt. The pain spiked every time he panted in thimbles of air, creaking in his chest and twisting in his gut. Slowly and fearfully, he lifted a hand, careful not to move not a single muscle that didn't need moving. With more weakness than what he'd like, he eventually managed to land his hand near his stomach... or where his stomach would be if something hadn't stopped his fingers in their tracks.

The second his knuckles knocked into the item, the same pain returned that knocked him out preciously, and even without the light he knew he blacked out for a moment. When he came to, he kept determined and moved even slower, even more carefully, until he finally managed to wrap his hand around the cause of his torture.

By touch, he could feel the splintered texture to the wood, like the long branch shape to it wasn't what it used to be. He brought his hand up away from his body, and sure enough, he felt what must have been some sort of wooden support that no longer did it's job. He returned his touch to the splinter, desperately trying to keep his breathing slow and even as he traced it down, down, down, right to his stomach.

Into his stomach.

With the realization that he'd been impaled down to the ground, like a bug in a collector's glass case, he felt like he might throw up.

He couldn't- he couldn't even remember how he got here.

When he removed his hand from his stomach, they came away warm with what could only be his own blood. He gasped, spiking the pain once again. He became all too aware of the lingering taste of copper at the back of his throat.

He forced himself to keep a clear head, reaching to his sides where his travel bags lay. With trembling fingers, he eventually found his lantern. His fingers shook so badly that it took a few times to light the oil, but eventually his surroundings visualized within a warm yellowish glow.

All he could see from his pinned position were tunnels. He laid at an intersection, at what would have been a point of three separate tunnels meeting if his end hadn't collapsed on top of him. Wooden support beams, similar to the one stabbing him through, held the stoney ceilings up for the tunnels that were still standing.

And that was it. Nothing more met his eyes besides the broken beam on top of him along with the piles and piles of rubble that hid his bottom half from view. He hadn't even noticed that the earth had swallowed his legs... he'd been too focused on the pain in his stomach. He wiggled his toes, just to make sure they still worked, and thankfully they did... but the simple action fused up to his gut, making him groan. Now, the last thing he forced himself to look at was the splinter of wood impaling his stomach. He had no way of telling just how far it went into his body... or if it tore anything terribly important. It simply existed, running down from the collapsed ceiling and into his stomach. Around the wound, his tunic looked slick and wet.

Okay, Legend. Okay. What now?

He set the lantern down on the ground, then raffled through his belongings some more, gritting his teeth. Sweat dripped down the side of his face when his fingers finally wrapped around something that may be useful, but when he pulled out the healing potions he realized that healing himself with his stomach stabbed through would do absolutely nothing. He'd have to free himself first... but with how much pain lingered through him like an irritated swarm of wasps... he knew trying to escape would only cause him to pass out and possibly die from blood-loss before he could wake up to try again.

Now he looked through his bags with a bit more earnestness, grunting through his teeth as every movement tugged at the wound. Grappling hook: useless. Fire Rod? He didn't think becoming a kabob would help. Boomerang... Ice Rod... His sword... His ocarina... Useless useless useless.

With a frustrated growl, he chucked his ocarina across the tunnels. It slammed against the wall, but thankfully didn't break as it hit the ground as he already regretted throwing it.

Think, Legend, think.

He wouldn't last long doing nothing, even though the cause of his latest mortality threatening injury still remained inside him, he still continued to lose his blood ever so slowly. He doubted he'd last long doing nothing.

"Hh," he tried, but the very act of summoning his voice caused his vision to swim in agony. He persisted, however, as the terror of dying lent him desperation. "Help-"

No louder than a whisper. A whimper into voids that don't care. Where were the others? Surely they must have been exploring these tunnels together. Perhaps a dungeon of some sort? Taking on the job to help the locals of the newest world they found themselves in? They must be here, and they must have heard the crashing when the ceiling somehow collapsed onto him.

"H- Help!"

Better. Louder. He bit his lip as tears swelled in his eyes. His ears rung.

"I'm- here! Help! HELP-"

His calls cut off with an agonized scream. He didn't realize he'd begun to squirm, igniting that unbearable pain once again. Now he knew for sure that he blacked out, as he could easily watch it within the flicking of his lantern.

"P- please-" he rasped, the blood in his mouth becoming more and more obvious.

Blinking tears and trying to refocus, he considered taking some of the health potion... just enough to slow the bleeding from where his strugglings had torn the wound more. But... when he moved his hand, it felt like his bones had been replaced by lead. His strength had left him. His hand fell back to the ground against his will, and all he could do now was wheeze and blink tears from his eyes.

Was no one coming? Had no one heard him?

Was anyone even there?

And now a different sort of panic filled his veins. He tried to steer away from those thoughts, but soon they became the only thing he could think about.

What if no one was there? What if he was alone? What if- what if that entire adventure hadn't been real and it was nothing more than a sick dream he came up for himself while he really slowly died right here, right now?

The first sob tore at his throat, and did the same to his wound. He didn't want to think like that. He didn't. He wanted to believe that meeting the others... going on adventures with them... everything had been real. He freed the Wind Fish, and from his years of research, nothing else could possibly create a dream as real as the Wind Fish could. But the fear always lingered. Always simmered. Always bubbled and tugged and prodded. Of course it would finally claw to the surface during his dying moments.

Dying. He was dying. Any hopes of surviving this no longer existed. No one would come, and he would die alone right here, despite the health potions in his supply.

His vision blurred so badly he could no longer see. He couldn't move or speak... he could only tremble and let out pathetic whimpers.

How long did he have left? An hour? A few minutes?

It didn't matter.

He closed his eyes and let himself mourn his own life, as he knew no one else would, until eventually his awareness began to fade.

When the panicked voices and the hurried footsteps finally entered the tunnels, he was too far gone to acknowledge them.

-o-o-o-o-

When he opened his eyes, he didn't know what to be shocked by. The fact that he opens his eyes at all seemed like a bit of a stretch. Yet, once his pupils adjusted to the light of the open sky, he could see several relieved faces hovering all around him.

Hyrule didn't let Legend be shocked for long, because the boy quickly flung himself at Legend and wrapped his arms around his neck. Legend felt so weak; the embrace became the only thing holding him up from laying boneless on the ground.

He didn't feel any pain.

Slowly, with much more effort than normal—proof that he had been previously injured seriously enough that even a fairy's healing didn't fully replenish his strength—he returned the embrace Hyrule had him in.

"You came," he croaked, and Hyrule gave a wet laugh.

"Of course we would," he said, misunderstanding. Legend didn't have the heart to correct him... fill him in that he didn't think they'd come because in his dying moments he tricked himself into thinking they weren't even real.

"Thank you," he whispered, unsure if he intended the words for his rescuers, or the very universe for allowing him to see these faces again and the chance to convince himself once again that they truly existed.

He tightened his pathetic grip and pressed his face in Hyrule's very real tunic.

"Thank you."

Was bored and fighting some art block so I drew Jeff and Toby all over Unus annus screenshots for funsies. Ft. Jane

I would kill for him. I would die for him. He would watch me perish without a worry every crossing through his little noggin. No one will keep us apart. This is about my Marble Hornets Hoodie plushie btw

dsmp!skephalo is cool and all but was there ever a scene of skeppy rowing back to his and bad’s island in the rain after a huge argument only to have the slow realization that bad lit their house on fire