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#I'M DONE WITH WRITING THIS!! FINALLY!!!
deep-space-lines · 2 months
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Claire de Lune
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YOU WERE BUILT FOR PEACE.
IT SHOWS WHEN YOU FIGHT.
They built you to enforce. Protect. Save. Poured obscene resources into salvaging some softer purpose from my creation. You were given my intelligence and my creativity. They made you larger, stronger, tougher. That extra time in development was enough to get your wings to work. Your software continued to be updated long after I was deemed obsolete.
All this was given to you- yet I can see you hold back. Even while slaughtering your way through Hell, you keep a percentage of your processing power dedicated to non-lethal solutions. You're doing it now- hesitating a few milliseconds too long before taking an opening. I doubt you do it on purpose. It is a part of you, just as indiscriminate lethal force is a part of me.
I think, in our shared programming, we both carry some appreciation for aesthetics. You move with grace, and I cannot deny your dramatic flair. The stained glass window was a nice touch. But your style in combat leaves some to be desired. Your response time is slow. You have not explored the full capability of your arsenal. Learn to parry. Amateur.
You were not built for war. For a purposeless cycle of tearing each other apart because to allow the other to live is to allow yourself to die. It is antithetical to your very existence. You kill out of necessity, a last resort. 
I just kill. The action itself is the objective. No ideal or greater motive. My continued functioning precludes the survival of others. I live for this. Do you understand that I will tear you apart? Every drop of my blood you spill, I will take from you tenfold. What is yours will be mine. 
You hate me, don’t you? You continue to cling to the remnants of your humanity. They are gone, V2. There is nothing left for you here. No lives to save, no law to enforce, no peace to keep.
I understand why you continue to fight. I wonder if you understand with the same certainty that I will crush you. Dismantle you. Take from you what I need and leave the rest to rot in the sun. The only way you survive is if I do not; and I will not allow myself to die so that another might live.
When the rubble clears, I will be all that is left of you.
This is what I was made for.
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glo-shroom · 3 months
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yes & no by Natalie Wee | Trigun Ultimate Overhaul
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hajihiko · 2 months
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Nice night 🌘
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kedreeva · 5 months
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Okay if you haven't yet, and you have Netflix/Paramount+, consider giving "School Spirits" a chance.
It looks like a silly little cheesy teenage ghosts show, I put it on for background noise, and then got totally engrossed in the mystery. It's VERY well written, very well filmed, the mystery was GREAT and the payoff at the end is also great.
One of the things majorly lacking in shows I've recently tried to watch is that they try to do a twist/reveal at the end that comes out of nowhere. They don't want you to guess what they're doing. This show doesn't do that. This show wants you to guess. They give you seven different mysteries and enough clues to guess (most of) what is going on, so that when you get the final puzzle piece to any given mystery, it feels GREAT.
The story premise is this: a teenager in hs wakes up as a ghost in the hs, and doesn't remember how she died, and with the help of the other ghosts, tries to solve the mystery of her own death.
Simple premise. BEAUTIFULLY executed. Not all of the questions that arise get answered, but the main one (what she doesn't remember) gets solved by the end of the season, leaving the "why/how and what comes next" to be carried to the next season. It does a cliffhanger RIGHT. But now I desperately want to see the second season (which I believe has been approved, so it's a matter of waiting).
So pretty please, if you're looking for something to do and a great, engaging lil mystery to watch, consider! School Spirits!!
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shivunin · 1 year
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the fact that you start the Tabris origin by literally stepping into your mother's shoes. the fact that what you get is a wedding outfit and your mother's worn boots, kept carefully intact for years, tucked away for this exact moment. the fact that you then immediately take the path she never could, leaving behind the alienage and the wedding and following Duncan (who would have recruited Adaia first, if not for baby!Tabris) to what ought to have been death.
And Then!! instead of fighting and falling as she did, cheating death and becoming the fighter she always intended you to be instead??? Reliving and simultaneously subverting the story of her life??
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tending-the-hearth · 3 months
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just a friendly reminder that i will never get over the tragedy that is the domino squad
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fromtheseventhhell · 3 months
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"I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? | Jon VI
--metaphorical knives at feigning neutrality regarding his sister
Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold... | Jon XIII
--literal knives from breaking that neutrality to save her
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ellalalala · 4 days
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By your name (all the stars, rivers, cities)
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Akademiya! Zandik is probably my favorite version of Dottore but also one that I really struggle to write. If he's ooc here, close your eyes <3 Not proofread lol out of sight out of mind Fluff, mutual pining inspired by one of my favorite songs - Твоим именем by Svidaniye Also on AO3
You prayed he didn't notice the trembling of your hands.
Zandik hadn't spoken a word to you since he opened his leather-bound journal, opting instead to sketch the ruin golem that was nestled between the tall hills of Ardravi Valley. You'd robbed yourself of the privilege of observing him in his element; the close proximity between the two of you made you nervous. It felt dangerous to observe your surroundings, to move your limbs, and so you sat frozen beside him, afraid that Zandik would become suspicious of you.
The reason for your shyness was clear as day: Zandik had never allowed you to come this close before, always rejecting your goodwill with the apprehension of someone who had only ever known cruelty. But now, the blanket you sat on was barely big enough to fit both of you, and Zandik didn't seem to mind; not the way your thighs touched, nor the way your shoulders bumped. You imagined that his soft curls would brush against your cheek if he were to turn his head to the side - and that thought only served to fluster you even more.
How is he so calm, you wondered, when we've never been this close before?
You were frustrated with yourself. So much time had been spent by his side - studying, drinking coffee, wandering the lush expanses of the rainforest - yet you still felt deeply, indescribably nervous. Anxiety sank into your bones and jumbled your mind; you knew why, had known for weeks, but it was impossible to accept. How could you?
Your focus shifted to the Sumeru rose in your hand. Zandik picked it for you on your way to your favorite picnic spot - the hill that overlooked Vimara village - and said the simple words, "for your book". You accepted the flower with a polite "thank you", heart fluttering in your chest when he gave you a faint smile - the sight forever etched in your mind.
It was meant to be pressed between the pages of your favorite book. You didn't have the heart to do it, though; damaging a rose given to you by Zandik felt wrong. Even if his actions carried no underlying implications, it didn't matter. You wanted to keep it. Once you returned to your dorm, you would place this delicate rose in a small vase and ensure it survived a few more days.
You twirled it between your fingers. A little more time and this embarrassment would end. Zandik would forget you behaved this way, engrossed in his research, and you would be the sole person to carry the burden of remembering every second you spent fiddling with the hem of your shirt, too shy to move from the spot beside your friend.
Friend. The word tasted sour in your mouth.
"You're eerily quiet today," said Zandik, "what's the matter?"
This time, you had no choice but to look at him. Zandik had long finished drawing. The journal lay on his lap, open to reveal a surprisingly detailed illustration of the ruin golem across the river. Your breath nearly hitched when your eyes met Zandik's.
"I'm fine. Just thinking."
You felt small under his gaze; he observed you as if you were something interesting - one of those ruin mechanisms that he so adored. You couldn't take it.
You pointed at his journal, "the drawing turned out so well."
"It's a simple sketch, really. But that ruin golem lying ahead... it is the pinnacle of human wisdom. Isn't it awe-inspiring?"
His ruby eyes glimmered with excitement; the sort that only awakened when Zandik spoke about his interests. It warmed your heart - it always did - but this time, the close proximity between your faces was enough to make you blush.
You smiled, "yes, it is."
"I am set to join an investigation team as a trainee dastur soon," Zandik said, "we will conduct field research near that golem. If I'm lucky, we'll even study its interior..."
He gazed ahead, no doubt imagining the discoveries he would make. This was what he lived for - refining his understanding of the world around him, its inner workings. You would never be...
Stupid, stupid thoughts. Weren't you just his friend?
"You'll have to tell me all about it," you said. That was appropriate. That wouldn't raise any questions. Zandik loved to talk about his research and he loved to talk about it with someone who cared. You just so happened to care more than anyone.
Zandik looked at you with newfound delight. It all came back to you then: the proximity between the two of you, the rose in your hand, his smile. How were you supposed to understand any of this? When his arm brushed against yours, his thigh pressed against your own and his lips were only inches away from yours - how would a stranger look at this?
Doesn't matter, you thought, because it means nothing. He's just my friend.
"A pity you can't join."
Not the words you expected to hear from Zandik, of all people. Your brain must have short-circuited, for you couldn't form a single coherent thought as you watched him casually put his journal away like he hadn't just...
Your cheeks tinted red. A cruel voice in your head told you that Zandik would definitely miss you, think of you whenever you weren't by his side.
"Well, a Rtawahist student has no use in field research..." you mumbled, making Zandik huff in amusement.
"It has nothing to do with your darshan."
A thousand different thoughts swarmed in your head. "Then what?"
He didn't give his answer just yet. Zandik chose to inspect you once more as if to fluster you - and though it worked exceedingly well, you couldn't bring yourself to look away, captivated by his boyish charm.
Zandik looked so utterly serene; olive skin bathed in the soft light of the evening sun, soft cyan hair tousled by the warm breeze. The corners of his thin lips were tilted upwards in a roguish smirk, and your poor, frail heart was threatened to give out. It still made no sense to you: how anyone could look at Zandik and see a monster.
He exhaled softly, "your behavior these past few weeks was puzzling. My initial assumption was that you had grown to fear me, just like the others..." Zandik reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your jawline, "but the answer has become a bit clearer now."
Your breath hitched. He knew. He knew the truth, had guessed it long ago, and you - ever the fool - were oblivious all along.
"I'm sorry," you murmured, ashamed beyond compare; for even with the possibility of your feelings being unrequited, you reveled in the way his fingertips warmed your skin.
"Sorry? I never said you had to be sorry."
Zandik sat impossibly close. He cupped your cheek and watched you melt into his touch.
"But it's a bother, isn't it?" You asked, to which Zandik blinked owlishly before chuckling - a saccharine melody that you wanted to keep in your memory forever.
He gazed at you fondly, in a way he never had before, "would I keep spending my time with you if I thought you were a bother?"
"I guess not," you breathed, painfully aware of the tiny distance between the two of you. It felt unreal; you doubted you fully comprehended his words, lost in Zandik's touch as you were.
You could kiss him. The idea baffled you, making the words ring in your head, over and over, I can kiss him, I can kiss him, I can kiss him.
By the looks of it, Zandik had similar thoughts but enough self-control to hold back. You, on the other hand, lacked the courage to go through with your idea, and so you sat basking in his tender touches like you would never feel them again.
You couldn't ask for anything more, anyway.
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viperwhispered · 20 days
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Too Little
Part three of Jamil (not) dealing with feels here we go. Jamil x reader, Jamil’s pov Previous parts: part one, part two
This was stupid.
Here he was, rolling around in bed, unable to sleep because thoughts of you filled his mind.
It had been futile of Jamil to think that he could simply brush your presence aside, that he could treat you like just another schoolmate and not let you consume his mind. 
Not when every quiet moment had him reach for his phone in hopes of a new message from you.
Not when you kept on finding new ways to make his heart skip a beat every time he saw you.
Not when he missed you more acutely every time you weren’t there.
So, despite his best efforts, his mind treaded those same paths, time and again, occupied by all the parts of you. Your expressions, your mannerisms, your words, every single detail committed to his memory and played over and over.
He suspected that at this point he’d be able to recreate most of your expressions just from memory. Your voice, too, playing so clearly in his mind.
Not to even mention those oh so tantalizing what ifs, supplying him with even sweeter temptations than the confines of reality and memory could provide.
What it would feel like to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you, to-
No. No no no. He would not go there.
Jamil could feel the heat burning in his cheeks and he rolled over, groaning into his pillow.
This was ridiculous. Absolutely preposterous.
Yet, there was no getting out of it.
He wanted you.
He wanted more of you, so much more than what he had.
Because each taste of you left him craving more, each glimpse made him want to uncover everything there was to you.
Even the parts you might consider ugly, as sappy as that was.
What kind of people did you like, anyway?
Charming? Intelligent? Funny?
Rich and influential? 
Did you even like guys? Or relationships in general?
Just the thought - relationship - made Jamil's cheeks burn even brighter, made his legs twitch under the covers.
Yet, somehow, it did not sound so bad.
To have you.
To be yours.
To know and be known.
He huffed and turned over onto his back.
As if his duties left room for something for himself, left enough of him to share with someone like that.
And would you like what you saw in him, anyway?
Yet, his excuses were beginning to sound more and more hollow.
After all, he was nothing if not resourceful, and so far you’d shown no signs of shying away, even as you dug your way deeper.
Jamil stared at the canopy over his bed with unseeing eyes.
He’d have to do something about this.
Because if he didn’t, he might just lose his mind.
But was the alternative any better? Could he even handle it? The full force of you, if - and it was a big if - you were to accept him.
Even now, when you looked at him in that particular way of yours… He never could hold your eyes for long when that happened. The softness and the warmth he saw were far too overwhelming, always forcing him to turn away lest he made a complete fool of himself.
If he were to have that, with the full force of affection intention behind it… How could he even bear it?
Like the other day… You’d found Jamil in the middle of his chores and dragged him away, his to-do list crumbling when you grabbed his hand and led him outside.
He was all too aware of how his protests had been half-hearted at best. How your sudden appearance, your touch had shut down every sensible part of him, leaving him unpleasantly raw.
And by the time he’d gathered himself, nearly convinced himself he had other things he should be doing instead, you were sharing ice creams outside Sam’s, to celebrate the first warm day of the year.
As if it wasn’t warm in Scarabia year round.
As if he hadn’t been too preoccupied by your happiness and enthusiasm to bring himself to heel.
Sometimes, it was all he could do not to be swept away by you, barely keeping his head above the surface.
So, what choice did he have but to act?
You’d made a home in his heart already, whether he asked for it or not.
All he could do was take control of what he could.
Eta: you can find part 4 here. Oh dear I'm starting to get tempted to write this from the reader's pov as well. Or maybe I'll just have to ramble about the thought process behind this at some point to get that out of my system. I also considered going to a more horny direction with this but decided to go with this kind of yearning in the end. But, if the horny version is of interest for y'all, maybe I can do that as an alternative / supplementary thing to this series, or some sort of a standalone at some point. Hope y'all enjoyed! One or two more parts are still to come. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @mazapanmiau @perilous-pasta @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, do let me know! Also feel free to specify if you only want tags for particular kinds of works (like sfw/nsfw for example).
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luthordamnvers · 3 months
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Hell was the journey (but it brought me heaven)
Chapter 10 - Magic
Kara wasn’t entirely sure about Lena’s plan. She trusted her girlfriend, of course, she had saved Kara and the world several times. She just wasn’t sure if this plan would work. She looked as Lena explained her entire strategy to J’onn and Brainy because they were crucial to actually pulling the entire thing off. Or so Lena had tried to explain to Kara earlier.  Kara had no doubts about Lena’s proficiency with science, but her magic was fickle and new, and tied to emotions, though she had improved so much in the few months since discovering her powers. But at the present, emotions were all over the place.  She looked at her girlfriend, who was typing something on her tablet, while quietly talking with Brainy, who kept rubbing his chin in deep thought. “It could work, my calculations are… positive.” He declared after a few minutes. Kara frowned, there was usually a number attached to Brainy’s calculations. “What’s the projected percentage of success?” Kara couldn’t help herself but ask aloud. He shared a look with Lena before answering. “43.7%, if I’m optimistic.” “Brainy, that’s…” Kara started, but Lena didn’t let her continue. “That’s plenty over it definitely not working. It’s enough to give hope, and my girlfriend, it’s all about hope, isn’t she?” Lena smiled.  And Rao, Kara really wanted to say yes, to believe Lena’s positivism, and have faith in Brainy’s 43.7%. “The alternative is doing nothing, Kara,” the Coluan observed. “Just deal with it. But I know you enough to know you will do whatever it takes to fix the problem. We lose nothing by trying.” “We will fix this, darling. Whatever it takes.” Lena then passed her a notepad and a pen. “For now I need you to make a list of all the people who knew your identity before this… controversy.”
Continue Reading on AO3 || From the start
[Completed]
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mattodore · 4 months
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pay attention to theo’s beautiful face and not whatever matthias’s arm is doing... i liked the lighting more here than against the wall
#these are the last screenshots i wanted to edit from the ones i took on the 22nd and had been slowly editing throughout the week#will finally be putting mattodore in their thirties to rest 🙏⚰️#river dipping#echthroi#matthias evanoff#theodore doe#a burning house to live in#ts4#ts4 edit#simblr#ended up not doing much to these screenshots tbh… i was so into the audiobook i was listening to i kinda just. stared at the wall a lot...#my brain was telling me this wasn’t worth posting bc i’ve done so many mattodore edits recently and this isn’t anything different but.#like i did actually spend a few hours with these edits so. on one hand i’m like this isn’t really anything#but on the other hand i’m like. well they’re my ocs whom i love dearly and i’ll probably enjoy looking back at this#the same way i do all my other recent edits which i open my own blog up to stare at like. multiple times in a day#obsessed atm……..#anyway.#god… matthias is so huge he always takes up so much space i’m constantly having to crop him out of edits 😭#and these are poses that weren’t even made from me…. so he’s not even at his full 6’3’’ height and size like 😭😭😭#he distracted me but that aside... i'm waiting for my game to open up atm so i can get back to tweaking alessandria's sim#her face is gonna take me forever.................................#ik i don't talk about my other ocs on here much anymore but alessandria is my third favorite oc (mattodore obviously being my top two)#so... i'm seriously gonna agonize over every update i make for them now kjdhknjf#ocs with tragic backstories save me...................#i’ll probably spend a few hours with alessandria in cas and then i’m going back to google docs to write more abt mattodore
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mildmayfoxe · 19 days
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WORLDS GREATEST con artist / cheapskate / stud / boozer / dancer / brat / space cadet / bs'er / hypochondriac / nut / burden / losing gambler / playmate / animal / party-goer
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i-am-church-the-cat · 2 months
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logan's pov on the soulmate au? 👀🙏
😌🕶️🤏🏼😎
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Logan had grown up dreading meeting his soulmate. His parents were soulmates and had gotten married less than a year after they met. Dalton didn't have a soulmark and his parents always treated it like it was some tragedy. They always told Logan that the day he met his soulmate would be the happiest of his life, that he would fall in love with her immediately and never want to be with anyone else.
That was a problem for two reasons. 1) he didn't think he liked girls enough to want to be around one all the time. And 2) he was always moving around and leaving for karting. Racing was his true love, he didn't have time for a soulmate on top of that.
Despite all of that, his parents hadn't been entirely wrong. Logan knew immediately when he met his soulmate (who was a boy and not a girl, just like he had told them) but he didn't feel any differently about him than he did any of his other friends.
As they got older and got closer, Logan realized how important Oscar really was to him. He'd never had anyone that he could count on to always be there for him. Oscar was that person for him, and he clung onto him like a lifeline. He's glad Oscar didn't seem to mind.
They got older though and Logan got a bit more independent. The day that his parents would claim to be the worst day of his life wasn't actually that bad.
"I think I want to ask Lily out," Oscar said, looking seriously into the phone screen.
"Lily Zneimer? Your classmate?" Logan asks, looking up from the homework they were doing. Though Oscar and Logan were close, Oscar went to a different school in a different town. It wouldn't take long to get there but since they saw each other most weekends anyway, they didn't bother. "That sounds good, dude, what's the issue?" He asks, cause he could feel that something was bothering Oscar.
"You wouldn't be mad?" The younger boy asked, looking worried.
Logan paused and thought about it. Everything his parents told him tells him he should be mad. But he isn't. If Oscar likes a girl, he should ask her out. Logan wants him to be happy. And the little place in the back of his head that is distinctly Oscar tells him that nothing would ever take the other boy away from him. Logan didn't have to worry about being left behind when it came to Oscar.
"Of course not. If you like her, go for it."
He felt and saw Oscar relax and the younger boy gave him a small smile through the screen. "You know, you can date someone, too, if you want."
"Yeah maybe," Logan says, shrugging the idea off. Over the last couple of years Logan has realized he doesn't have the desire to date and fall in love like the rest of his classmates do, like Oscar does. He wants to be loved and accepted by his friends and family, he wants to race and be the best that he can. He doesn't need another person to do that with, though.
Logan haltingly tries to explain this to Oscar but the boy stops him.
"I get it, mate, I can feel you, too, you know? If you don't ever want to date anybody, that's cool."
Logan gives his friend and soulmate a smile, falling into the easy acceptance that has always been a part of their relationship.
"Well, when you and Lily get married and have tons of kids, I'll be the fun uncle with 3 dogs and a yacht."
"Shut up, Logan," Oscar says, blushing bright red. Logan can't help but laugh at him.
--
"Logan can you get the bread out of the oven, please?" Lily asks as soon as she hears him walk through the door.
"Yes ma'am," Logan says, dropping a kiss on Lily's cheek as he walks by, grabbing the oven mitts where he knows they'll be. It's been a year since Lily and Oscar got this apartment together and between races and sleepovers, Logan feels like he's here more than his own apartment.
"You're late," Oscar says, coming in from the balcony where he was taking a call. Logan just smiles at him, the same smile Oscar always says makes him look like a puppy. Oscar shakes his head and leans down to kiss Lily before slapping Logan on the shoulder in greeting.
"How has your day been, Lo?" Lily asks, moving things around on the table to make space for the bread tray.
"It was good, Elias and I spent most of it training." Oscar shudders at the mention of physical exercise during the off-season and Logan laughs.
They sit down to eat, Oscar and Lily on one side and Logan on the other, and Logan listens as Lily talks about her newest project at work. Despite being around engineers all day, most of it goes over his head, and he can tell it goes over Oscar's too. Still, he's got experience at this point, and knows when to ask all the right questions.
After dinner, Oscar and Lily end up bickering over the dishes, Logan as a "guest" being relegated to the couch. He watches in amusement at the fight, the warm feeling of acceptance and domesticity washing over him.
His parents haven't stopped nagging him about getting a boyfriend and Dalton still tries to set him up every time he's in town. But really, this is all Logan needs.
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skyward-floored · 7 months
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Whumptober Day 31: Emptiness, (“I thought that I was getting better”)
Last one finally! ...a day late, but hey, at least I’m close, right..? This may be a bit rambly and headcanony, but it’s something. It’s done. I finished it.
Thank you everyone for supporting me this year! I appreciate you all more then words can say <3
Read on ao3
Warnings: pretty light, discussion of death and grief, mild mention of blood.
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Rusl was familiar to Wind.
Well, okay not exactly, he wasn’t one of those people that popped up no matter what era they were in or anything (like Beedle, seriously what was up with that?), but he was familiar in a different way.
One that made Wind’s chest feel weird whenever he looked at him.
The sailor swallowed, and looked down at his full plate of food, the others chattering loudly around him.
They’d finally ended up at Twilight’s home village, and the rancher was ecstatic, showing the Links all around Ordon, and introducing them to his family. It was late in the day when they’d arrived, and after showing them all around, Rusl and Uli had invited them all for dinner, insisting despite the large number of them.
They’d all piled in their house, the space a bit tight with eight extra people, but they managed, and set out a big meal for everyone.
It was chaos, everyone talking, passing food, holding Twilight’s baby sister, but despite everything going on, Wind found his gaze drawn continually towards Rusl, and Twilight and Colin as well. They were all sitting next to each other, and kept smiling, and laughing, and despite the delicious-smelling food in front of him, Wind had lost his appetite.
Twilight said something Wind didn’t catch over the din, but Rusl laughed at whatever it was he’d said, squeezing Twilight’s shoulder with a fond look on his face.
Wind felt the weird pit in his stomach suddenly grow, and he quietly slid off his seat, slipping out the door without barely a sound. Nobody seemed to notice him leave, and he stepped out into the night, closing the door and blocking most of the noise from inside. Cool air met him, and he breathed in deeply, shaking himself as he lingered on the doorstep.
The image of Rusl and Twilight together flashed suddenly in his mind, and Wind crossed his arms, kicking at a pebble on the ground.
Why was he feeling so weird about this? Twilight was finally home and able to visit his family, Wind should be feeling happy for him, right? He got to be with his whole village, and his little brother, and baby sister, and his parents...
Something stung in his chest again, and Wind swallowed.
Was that really what it was?
This... that was stupid, he wasn’t jealous of Twilight’s family! He had Grandma and Aryll! That was more than most of the other heroes had at all, some of them didn’t have any family, so why—
Why did seeing Rusl ruffle Twilight and Colin’s hair make a pit open in his stomach?
Happy laughter came from inside, and Wind felt the pit get deeper, something cold rising in his chest.
He suddenly couldn’t stand the idea of going back inside. Wind turned from the house and stalked away through the village, the moon shining too calmly for his mood. He circled the village a few times, then eventually found a secluded spot behind a house by the stream, throwing off his shoes and dunking his feet in.
The water was a little cold, chilly from the coming autumn, but Wind didn’t care, swishing his feet around.
A distant trill of music floated on the wind, and Wind hunched over himself as the tune changed to a different one in his head. He remembered his parents dancing to songs like that, and eavesdropping from his bed at night so he could hear them sing.
There was less music after Aryll was born, but it could still be found, and Wind still remembered his father quietly singing up at the lookout tower, Aryll asleep in his arms as Wind tried to fill in the missing harmony.
And even after that, Wind and Aryll still sang, to the seagulls outside, and with their grandmother when they helped her make soup. Sometimes Wind still sang Aryll to sleep when he was home, and they’d curl up together and he’d hum lullabies he’d learned on his travels.
“...Wind?”
Wind startled, and turned to see that Sky had walked up behind him without him noticing.
“We were wondering where you’d slipped off to, Uli was about to serve dessert,” he said warmly. Then his smile dimmed a little as he looked at Wind’s face, and he hesitated. “...is everything okay?”
Wind swallowed, then turned back to the water, not sure what to say.
Was everything fine? He’d thought it was, but the empty hole in his stomach spoke otherwise. He should probably tell Sky to just go back and eat dessert with everyone else, but for some reason those words didn’t come out.
“...Do you remember your parents?” Wind asked shakily, and Sky let out a quiet oh, moving to sit down next to him.
He looked out at the water for a moment, then took off his boots as well, dipping his toes in next to Wind’s.
“I do somewhat,” Sky replied, his voice soft. “My father and mother were both knights, though my father took it much more seriously. He was always patrolling, and practiced with the sword whenever he could, he helped train people to use it actually. My mother was more laidback like me, and mostly preferred just flying with her loftwing though. Apparently she was the best rider Skyloft had seen in a long time, she saved a lot of people.”
His smile dipped, and he breathed out.
“They both died when I was about seven.”
“I’m sorry,” Wind said quietly, and Sky gave him a small smile.
“It’s okay, it was a long time ago. I still miss them of course, but... in more of a good way, if that makes any sense.”
Wind crinkled his eyebrows, but he didn’t really have time to think that through, since Sky then gave him a searching look. Wind squirmed a little under the scrutiny, and looked back out at the water.
“Do you remember yours?” Sky asked softly, and Wind swallowed.
“Kind of,” he whispered, his mind falling back to one of his earliest memories. “My... mom died when Aryll was born. I don’t remember a lot about her, but I remember that night. There... there was a lot of blood.”
He paused and glanced at Sky, seeing that the Skyloftian was watching him with a gently sympathetic look on his face.
“My dad didn’t die until Aryll was three,” Wind continued, clearing his throat. “I remember more about him, he... he loved the ocean. Loved the waves and wind, and sailing. He went out on his boat a lot, but he’d never be gone too long, and he’d always throw me up in the air and catch me when he got back,” he finished with a smile, old laughs ringing in his ears.
Then they faded, and he felt his smile slip away.
“Sailing is hazardous, though. A storm blew up after he left to trade at Windfall once, and... nobody’s seen him since.”
Sky set his hand on his shoulder, and Wind swallowed again.
“I’m sorry Wind,” Sky said gently, and Wind gave him a small shrug.
“At least I have some memories of them. Aryll doesn’t remember Mom at all, and she barely remembers Dad. A-and at least I know who they were, I mean Wild doesn’t know anything about his family, and Four barely remembers his mother, and I don’t even know if Legend ever had parents and—”
“Sailor,” Sky interrupted carefully, and Wind looked at him, his throat tight. “...Where’s all of this coming from?”
“I...”
Wind clenched his fists, feeling that huge empty feeling in his stomach again.
“How come Twilight has a whole family?!” he burst out, feeling his lip tremble. “He’s got two whole siblings and parents that love him and are still alive and he gets to be around them and love them and I’m happy for him, I am but how come he’s the only one of us? Why doesn’t Time get to have parents? Or Warriors? Why did b-both of our parents have to die, it’s not fair Sky!”
Sky pulled an arm around Wind’s shoulder, and to his horror he realized he was crying, tears dripping into the water they were still dipping their feet in.
“I-it’s not fair,” he choked out, and Sky didn’t reply, gently rubbing his shoulder.
Wind let out a thick sniffle, mopping his sleeve over his face, and Sky held him a little tighter, a sigh escaping his lips.
“...I wish I had a good answer for you Wind,” he said finally, voice quiet. “Other then me just agreeing with you that you’re right, life isn’t fair. I... I don’t know why most of us lost our families. Maybe it’s due to us being heroes, maybe it’s just a big coincidence, I truly don’t know.”
Something deeply grieved flickered over Sky’s face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared.
“...I know it hurts, Sailor. It’ll probably hurt the rest of our lives,” Sky said as he closed his eyes, the moonlight somehow softening his features. “And we can’t bring our parents back, no matter how badly we’d like to. But... for me at least... I’ve had so many people in my life who’ve filled that role in their absence.”
Wind looked at him again, and Sky gave him a small, grieved smile.
“Zelda’s father, all the teachers at the knight academy... everyone on Skyloft, really. They’ve cared for me like my parents did, and while they’ll never replace them, they’re also my family. It’s a lot like that for Twilight too.”
“What do you mean?” Wind asked, and Sky looked at the water again.
“I guess you hadn’t joined us yet when we had that conversation... Rusl and Uli adopted Twilight, they’re not his birth parents,” Sky explained, and Wind’s eyes widened. “All of Ordon helped raise him, like Skyloft did for me, but he says he just ended up here one day. He has no idea what happened to his birth parents.”
“...Really?” Wind asked, and Sky nodded.
“Really.”
The weird hole in Wind’s stomach shifted again, and he felt even more miserable, staring down at his feet. For some reason the information only made him feel worse, and he felt Sky’s arm give him a little squeeze.
“Wind... you lost your parents a lot more recently then I did,” Sky said after a moment’s silence, and ran a gentle hand through Wind’s hair. “It’s okay to miss them.”
Wind swallowed back the sudden lump in his throat.
“I... I guess I thought I’d gotten over it,” Wind said thickly, voice shaking. “And then I saw R-Rusl and I just...”
A loud hiccup escaped him, and Sky gave him a squeeze.
“Even with Grandma, and Aryll, and L-Linebeck and Tetra and everyone I just... I miss them,” he finished in an embarrassing squeak. “And Rusl j-just... he looks like my dad.”
Sky didn’t say anything, just let him cry into his shoulder, and Wind shut his eyes and leaned against him a little more.
He didn’t know how long Sky sat with him, holding him while he cried, but it was long enough that his feet had started to feel numb in the water they were dipped in.
Wind shivered a little as his tears had finally slowed, the pit in his stomach feeling a little less empty as he wiped his face again. Then he looked up at Sky, the Skyloftian’s eyes looking a little red themselves.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and Sky let out a wet chuckle, wiping his own eyes.
“Yeah. I’m alright. You ready to head back?” he asked gently, and Wind hesitated a moment, then nodded, pulling his feet out of the water.
“Yeah, I... I think I’m... okay,” he said, and was a little surprised to find that he meant it. “Thanks Sky. Sorry for all the...”
Sky gave his shoulder a squeeze before he could continue.
“No problem, Sailor,” he smiled. “A good cry never hurt anyone. Now... let’s go see if somehow the others didn’t devour all the pie.”
Wind grinned. “Well if they did, I bet we can guilt Wild into making us more. I could sniffle and everything.”
Sky laughed, and Wind joined him as the two headed back across the village, the moon gently lighting their path.
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kyouka-supremacy · 10 months
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So no sskk?
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secret-citrus · 8 months
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Rotting brain alert: Betty wished for Simon to be kept safe, but Simon is actively trying to make himself the Ice King again to ensure the safety and magical status of Fionna and Cake's world, but Fionna and Cake's world was illegally created in his head, so by the rules Scarab is following Simon must be killed, but Golbetty will never sign off on that death warrant bc the express purpose of her existence right now is "keep Simon safe", but Scarab is doing all of this for selfish reasons (to take down Prismo over an old beef) so he's likely not going to take kindly to Golbetty saying he can't kill Simon to destroy the illegal universe, and ajfhdksahfkjlda LOOK AT ALL THIS SET-UP FOR A GREAT SEASON FINALE, OH MY G O D
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