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fairsexynasty · 11 months

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ˏ🔪ˋ°•*⁀➷･ IF YOU REWRITE YOUR LIFE, MAY I STILL PLAY A PART?

.｡🗡️*⋆⍋*🃏*｡ ethan landry x chad meeks-martin x fem!reader

summary: your living situation had already been a mess. but with how charming your roommates were, it soon intertwined with your love life.

warnings: hurt + comfort, (un)requited love, love confessions, angst, hints to attachment anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of smut (ethan getting dicked down :o), guilt, domesticity, chef!ethan, non gf! au

a/n: heavily inspired by we’re in love by boygenius, that song requires tissues bro. this will be a series :3

you had to have been the worst best friend in the world. there was no logical explanation for the way you’d been feeling besides that. it’s not that you did anything wrong—at least, tangibly. your perspective just happened to shift, as it does with age, but you never expected it’d fuck your life up at 19.

college is a terrible place, swarming with hookup culture. and in nyc, it’s twenty times worse. you liked to think you were one of the only sane ones left, as in, being someone who wished oh-so-desperately to be swept off her feet by true romance. it only took one look around blackmore to see you most likely were not going to experience that from anyone.

but a girl can dream. and dreamt you did.

your living situation was a total fuckup. gigantic fuckup. monstrous fuckup. instead of making a home with girls who would help you create serotonin with every interaction, you were somehow rooming with two, sweetly dumb men.

ethan and chad share their differences, that’s for sure. chad’s cleanliness has been overrun by ethan’s haphazard living, and a handful of spats occur.

“ethan, for the last time, dude. clean up your shit! i don’t even know how your pants ended up in the kitchen.”

“chill out, chad, they’re just pants.”

“yeah, but they’re pants this week, and then it’ll be a condom the next.”

ethan scoffed. “says you. may i remind you, your name is chad.”

you’d always have to mediate between the two, giving them a smack on both their heads so they could feel the pain of the headache they gave you.

ethan’s things being in the kitchen somehow make sense. he’s in there whenever he has free time, cooking whatever try hard recipes he finds on his tiktok feed. they always turn out delicious, but ethan is an extremely controlling chef.

“what are you doing, chad?”

“what does it look like i’m doing? i’m eating a fry.”

“don’t touch the frites for the steak. out. of. my. kitchen.”

“may i remind you that y/n and i live here too?”

“yeah, but she isn’t eating the frites before the steak is ready. i haven’t even made the hollandaise yet.”

but even with their differences, they have many similarities. and those similarities were what had you feeling horrible in the first place.

chad and ethan might just have been the most charming men you’d ever encountered. it was strange to live with a girl in such close proximity, because living with a sister and parents was so different. but they never once made you feel like they didn’t want you there.

for the most part, what was theirs was yours. they never asked for the vice versa because they knew you’d kill them if they ever used your skincare or hair care in the bathroom.

that includes personal space, for some reason.

most nights you three got to spend time together, whether that was going out or staying in. everyone knew you had grown to be inseparable, including all the girls. mindy and anika never failed to call you names and titles.

“oh, look, it’s boygenius.”

every night typically looked like the three of you on the couch, a giant mclovin blanket covering you. you were typically in the middle, with both boys as close as humanly possible to you, as you watched whatever movie was picked out of your roulette list.

when it was a sad movie, like eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, ethan would be silently crying, head leaning on your shoulder for comfort. chad would be watching with wide, watery eyes, singular tears dropping every couple of seconds. his head would eventually perch upon your other shoulder.

with a comedy movie, like your favorite, superbad, typically you were sprawled out across ethan and chad, head resting on the arm of the couch, legs across their own.

and with a romance or drama movie, a train of bodies occurred. chad would be at the arm of the couch, with you resting in his lap, with ethan resting in yours. your hands would find themselves busy in ethan’s curls as you watched the movie, with chad’s chin resting on top of your head.

one time, you fell asleep after the movie in that exact position, and tara swung by to drop off some books. when she entered the apartment (of course she had a key, she was a ‘core four’ member,) she was met with the sight of you three. perfect photoshoot, in her mind.

the touchiness didn’t stop there. when walking outside, your arms were often linked together, or one of the boys would be holding your stuff while the other had an arm around your shoulders.

when you went to parties, they danced with you when you felt like it, and sat down with you when you felt like going on some kind of drunken tangent. and the behavior from them was eye-catching to everybody who saw you three together.

after a humanities class, a random girl walked up to you. the conversation was short and sweet, but left you stunned and questioning every part of your existence.

“hey, y/n. i just wanted to tell you that you and your boyfriends are literally goals. i can just feel the love radiating from all of you.”

love? there was no way chad AND ethan were in love with you. they probably would have beaten each other up by now if they were both into you. but, the random girl did say she thought you were all dating. and suddenly you found yourself watching the boys like a creep.

you kept a note in your phone of every single behavior that pointed to either two things: they were in love with you, and they were in love with each other. by the end of the week, you had amassed at least twenty different entries a day.

for evidence pointing towards their shared loved for you, you found that they’d start staring at you when you weren’t looking. their eyes often had a gleam you’d catch in the corner of your eye, and occasionally a failure of a repressed smile.

when you said goodnight, you’d feel their eyes on you until you closed the door to your room, and they never went to bed until at least an hour after you did, just to make sure you were safe asleep.

ethan would blush whenever you established physical affection with him or accepted his own, and chad would give you the biggest grins whenever you deglammed for the evening (and even when you were dolled up, that damn smile never left his face around you)

now, for the evidence pointing towards them being in love with each other? your theories were solidified one thursday night you had gotten back from the store. as soon as you had opened the door, the sluttiest whimper you’d ever heard, came from chad’s room. and you knew for a fact, chad was not the type to sound so desperate.

with one moan of a, “oh, fuck!” you knew ethan was getting dicked down by chad, and promptly left the apartment, deciding you forgot some milk. you probably sat in the trader joe’s parking garage for a good half an hour, attempting to process what you had almost walked in on.

it was reality. you all liked one another. it seemed too good to be true, though. how could two perfect guys like them, magnetize to you? with all your self consciousness, you shot them a text you were coming back home, and prepared yourself for confrontation.

when you got home, they immediately rushed outside to help you with the groceries. you didn’t make a comment on ethan’s flushed face and the trail of hickeys under his collar— which was the collar of chad’s shirt.

you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest, neck, and skull at the same time. when everything was put away, chad gave you a kiss on the head and thanked you for going to the store.

“i need to talk to you two about something,” you blurted out, eyes fixated on the receipt that laid on the counter. “i think you might want to sit.” ethan and chad had brief looks of fear on their faces, but acquiesced to your request. you slowly trailed after them.

“is everything okay, sweets?” chad asked you after settling onto the couch next to ethan. “is there something wrong?”

you let out a shaky breath as your hand tugged at the sleeves of your shirt. “i don’t know. that’s what i want to know. you see, uh…” you trailed off. it was a struggle to find the right words. ethan patted his hand on the couch in between him and chad, and you sauntered over to them. when you sat down, you played with your hands, completely nerved. the boys took your hands in their own, trying to calm you. you took a breath.

“listen, i love you guys a lot. i really do, and everyone knows that. i mean, i’ve been so happy ever since you came into my life. i just, i really am. but, i think i’ve been having some realizations lately, and i think i’m one of the last people to see this has been happening, but, i know everyone thinks that we’re dating.” okay, that’s not what you really meant to say, but you pussied out at the last moment.

“oh, wow.” ethan said, with a small smile. you saw chad let out the smallest sigh of relief. “does it bother you?”

“yeah, um, no,-“

“wait, yeah as in it bothers you, or no it doesn’t bother you?” chad asked.

“nonono, i mean i’m not done with what i want to say, sorry,” you rushed out.

“don’t apologize,” chad smiled and rubbed your back. “take your time,” he encouraged.

you nodded slowly, and took another breath. “because of everyone thinking this, it made me start wondering if they were… onto something? so, i did a lot of thinking, and, at least on my part, i love you both a lot more than you might think i do. i’m, in love.”

both boys were silent for a moment. you felt your stomach churn, and your hands started to get clammy. as your anxiety crept up, so did the pace of your breathing, and within the silence, tears found their way to your face. had you fucked this up?

however, unbeknownst to you, ethan and chad both looked at each other, a silent nod of understanding, but then they immediately realized you were crying.

“shit, nonono, sweets, don’t cry, it’s okay! it’s okay, y/n!” chad wiped away your tears as ethan hugged you from behind.

“i’m sorry,” you sobbed, “i’m so sorry.”

ethan spoke gently into your ear, “y/n, there’s no reason to be sorry, it’s okay! we’re in love with you too! you didn’t do anything wrong!”

you stopped crying as chad held your face in his hands, a look of pure love across his face. “really?” you hiccuped. “you feel the same?” they both nodded in sync.

“yes, y/n.” chad agreed. “we’re in love.”

#fairsexynasty #chad meeks martin smut #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks x reader #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x chad meeks martin #ethan landry x reader x chad meeks martin

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takerfoxx · 6 months

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I'm not traditionally a poly shipper (though I've been delving more into it as time goes by), but if there's one that I'm absolutely gaga about, as if in makes my personal top five ships and might even slot in right beneath KyoSaya and SuleMio, it's the one that almost certainly could not and should not happen in canon, but the thought of it still kinda makes me rabid with what could have been.

I am of course talking about AsuReiShin, AKA the Israfel Special.

Evangelion shipping is often a bizarre experience, especially amongst the core trio of pilots. There is just so much material among these incredibly fucked up characters, so many things that ought to be drawing them together, and yet they are all damaged in such specific ways that drive them to behave increasingly toxic, avoidant, or even abusive toward one another. They're all such hot messes of trauma and hangups that, hate to say it, the Rebuild ending of everyone essentially just making peace with one another and fucking off with Shinji hooking up with the controversial new girl that he at least doesn't have any baggage with was probably the healthiest choice, if not the most satisfying.

But even so, the reason I dig this triad specifically is because if you change even just a little bit about each character, you find the same traits that drove them apart suddenly drawing them together, and each individual pairing makes so much sense. Asuka and Shinji is the most obvious, with Asuka's aggressive bullying suddenly becoming proactive encouragement, and Shinji's meek avoidance now becoming the calm, stabilizing force that she needs. With Asuka and Rei it's similar, with Asuka's hatred of Rei's passivity now being being a drive to push Rei to experience and enjoy life and establish an identity, while Rei's gentle observation and lack of a filter would be give Asuka a much-needed source of self-reflection. And with Shinji and Rei, we've already seen how Shinji's kindness has encouraged Rei to step outside of her sheltered world and seek human connection, while also providing Shinji someone he felt was worth stepping up and fighting for.

Now, take all three of those dynamics and combine them together. You've basically got the perfect Id, Ego, and Superego situation. It's practically the adolescent Kirk, Spock, and McCoy dynamic!

Plus, there's also the other factors that would bring them together, even beyond the whole being hormonal teenagers in a stressful situation. Despite having wildly different personalities, they all had their lives destroyed by NERV, from Shinji losing his mother and being neglected by his father, to Asuka's mother losing her mind and taking her life thanks to the Evangelions, to Rei literally being created by Gendo to serve a terrible purpose and thus being robbed of ever having a life. That sort of "in the trenches" experience is exactly the sort of thing that would cause them to form bonds and seek comfort with one another, especially if they were all to learn of each other's past histories, and motivate them to stand up for one another against NERV's machinations, but ah, I'm delving into AU fanfic territory.

Point is, no, I don't think it would be wise for these three to seek out romance with one another, either as couples or all three of them together. But man, if they each just had just a little bit changed about them, can you imagine the pure emotional catharsis?

Note: I didn't really say anything about Kaworu because while I feel that he's probably the healthiest singular choice for Shinji, it's basically only with Shinji, making him his own separate deal entirely.

#neon genesis evangelion #nge #shinji ikari #rei ayanami #asuka langley soryu #asushin #asurei #reishin #asureishin #israfel special #poly shipping

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skyloftian-nutcase · 6 months

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Elastic Heart Ch 7 (Linked Universe story)

Summary: When Sky goes missing, the Chain scrambles to figure out where he is and what happened before it's too late.

(AO3 link)

First

<<Previous // Next>>

Hyrule Castle hardly felt like the safest place for any of the Links given most of their adventures, but it was as good a place to regroup and heal as any other. Although the entire group was well aware that the knights were useless, and the whispers of nobility hung close over their shoulders, the queen gave them as much privacy as possible and lent her best healers to their cause.

The next twenty-four hours were a somber affair. The heroes kept vigil at the beds of their fallen friends. When they weren’t fretting over them, they were wandering aimlessly, too forlorn for words and too anxious for rest.

It was late into the night after their return from the desert, and Time was staring into a fire contemplatively, his mind still trying to process everything. Twilight had already eased him out of his armor, which had been silently hidden until it could be cleaned of Sky’s blood. Somehow, despite all his experience, Time still seemed to be the least functional when someone was this injured.

How was it that in the span of four weeks he’d almost lost two of his boys? He still hadn’t figured out what had led to this, why Sky had been so terrified, so insistent that they leave, why he’d been apologizing with his dying breath.

There was just… so much. All of it was too much. The Shadow, Sky, all of it. Why had the Shadow taken his form and then spoken such words about Sky creating him? Was that why Sky had been so concerned with eliminating it himself? Some words about a curse, lies hissed between demonic teeth about how Sky had somehow made this mess?

Goddesses above… what had that thing convinced Sky? No matter what had started this… surely Sky wasn’t blaming himself for it?

That had to be the issue. Sky, sweet and soft, always in the background until he decided it was time to cause a little mischief… the boy had always been the least of Time’s concerns when it came to causing actual trouble. He’d always seemed the calmest, the most put together, the least traumatized, the most normal. Between that and his adoration for a sword Time would rather see at the bottom of Lake Hylia, the boy had never really been someone that Time had to keep a close eye on.

Yet here he’d been, taking on the weight of their journey himself and trying to leave the others behind. He’d nearly gotten himself killed for it.

Time had assumed the position of leader in this group and he’d nearly failed in recognizing when one of its members was in desperate need of help.

How long had Sky been spiraling like this? What had led him to this point? Had the Shadow spoken to him on the night he’d taken watch? Had it started before then? Did he blame himself for Twilight’s injury as well? What else was he hiding? What curse had the Shadow been talking about?

Time heard footsteps, and he turned to see the veteran walking morosely through the room, pointedly ignoring his leader. Twilight stood at the entranceway to the room sectioned off for their two fallen brothers, arms crossed as he watched Legend leave. When Time’s eye met his own, he said, “Finally convinced him to go to bed.”

“How are you holding up?” Time found himself asking before he could stop himself. He was worried for all of them, especially his descendant, who naturally took others’ wellbeing and protection as his own personal responsibility. They were all heroes, they all felt that burden, but his Ordonian made it his life’s mission to protect his loved ones far more than anyone else.

Not to mention Time had been doing a terrible job of checking in on anyone.

Twilight sighed tiredly. “I… would feel better if I were the one in the bed. It’s way worse just being the one helplessly looking on.”

Time would rather not relive the events of a month ago, but he knew what Twilight meant. It was the worst feeling in the world, being a child of destiny, someone who was so used to fixing all the problems, and being stuck in a situation where there was absolutely nothing to do.

“I know,” Time said simply, resting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“Cap’s still in there,” Twilight said quietly, eyes looking at the ground as his own emotions got the better of him. “I managed to get the rest out. Vet was the last.”

Time hadn’t even been in there since their arrival. Warriors hadn’t left the boys’ side. It was almost as if their positions were reversed from the last time. He wasn’t sure he should be happy about it or not. He felt almost guilty for not hovering the same way, but he’d been fairly useless last time. It would be better if he could actually help the others as Warriors had, but he’d spent the majority of the day in a daze, guided around by Twilight, who had taken the captain’s role in guiding and leading everyone else.

What an insane week this turned out to be.

“Get some sleep,” Time finally said, patting Twilight’s cheek affectionately before lowering his hand.

Twilight watched him uncertainly, biting his lip and nodding. He walked by without another word. The eldest Link took a steadying breath, heading into the room.

It was a fairly small chamber, with both beds’ headboards against the same wall. Time saw Warriors asleep in the chair between the two, scooted a little closer to Hyrule’s bed. The captain was dressed down in his undertunic and pants, scarf and armor set aside in his own quarters. Time pulled an extra blanket that was folded by the bedside and wrapped it gently around his fellow hero. Despite his attempt to be gentle, the captain stirred, one of the lightest sleepers in the group, and turned bleary eyes towards his elder.

“Go to bed,” Time said softly. “I’ll watch them.”

Frazzled and exhausted, Warriors let out a weary exhale, rubbing his face. Time thought better of his dismissal, recalling that the captain had checked in on him in the past, that he himself had just checked in on Twilight. He shouldn’t brush off the man just because he held himself together better than anyone else.

“It’ll… be all right,” he tried to reassure the man hesitantly.

Warriors stiffened, shoulders shaking, much to Time’s alarm. However, instead of sobs, he heard an amused snort. The captain looked up, eyes exhausted but somewhat alight. “You’re really not good at this whole emotional support thing, are you?”

Despite his own mood, Time found himself scowling mildly. “That bad?”

“Your tone isn’t reassuring at all.”

“I’m not used to saying things that…”

“That you don’t believe?” Warriors finished for him. “Me neither. That’s why I try distraction instead.”

Time huffed, looking between the two sleeping boys. They both looked so peaceful now. Not pale, not on death’s door, not desperate or begging for forgiveness.

He sighed heavily as his gaze returned to the captain. Not recognizing he was under scrutiny, Warriors had let his expression be more open, fear and worry pulling at him. He looked so damn tired. He’d seen this too many times. Time himself had seen the expression when Twilight had been dying.

Warriors was far more accustomed to this than any of them. And Time hated that.

The captain shifted to get up, but then he paused, staring at the bed. Time followed his gaze, watching with sudden intensity as their esteemed traveler scrunched his nose and twisted in bed a little, eyes fluttering open.

“Traveler? Link?” Warriors leaned forward alongside Time, his hand gently reaching for Hyrule’s shoulder.

The Hero of Hyrule blinked a few times, seeming to register his surroundings, and then he gasped, practically leaping into a seated position. Time immediately sat on the bed just as Warriors jumped forward, both placing steadying hands on the teenager’s shoulders.

“Sky!” Hyrule immediately exclaimed, squirming under their hold.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Warriors insisted, putting a second hand on the boy’s chest. “He’s here.”

Hyrule paused, panting for air, eyes wide and wild, before they settled on the pair. “He’s okay?”

Time and Warriors exchanged a look before the leader spoke. “He’s here.”

Hyrule huffed, eyes wet, and then he laughed shakily, tucking his knees into his chest. “I—I thought—I thought he—I—”

He laughed again, more nervous than before, entire body trembling. Warriors settled on the mattress beside him, arm wrapping around his shoulders carefully. Hyrule wasn’t the most comfortable with touch and usually didn’t engage in it, and neither Warriors nor Time were particularly cuddly men, but after everything, they all felt the need to stick close to each other. The traveler leaned into the hold, tears trailing down his cheeks as he continued to chuckle, his breaths quickly accelerating into something akin to panic and relief, a conglomeration of emotions crashing out of him in a fashion that he couldn’t control. Warriors held him tighter.

“We’re glad you’re alright,” Time said softly, his thumb tracing across the boy’s collarbone. “You scared us back there.”

“Yeah, what with the Triforce and all,” Warriors piped up, squeezing Hyrule a little more tightly as he smiled. “You sure did have quite the trick up your sleeve.”

Hyrule’s tearful relief evaporated in an instant, eyes widening with alarm. Time felt his own concern rise – did the boy not remember using it?

“It’s okay,” Time assured him. “We’re all heroes here, Traveler. We’ve borne pieces of the Triforce as well. I just didn’t realize one among us had carried the entire sacred relic. That’s quite an honor.”

“R-right,” Hyrule mumbled, looking at his knees.

“How are you feeling?” Warriors asked, brushing past the distressing topic.

“Where’s the Triforce?” Hyrule countered.

The elder pair glanced at each other again before answering honestly. “We… don’t know. It vanished once you’d finished using it.”

Hyrule watched them a moment, still and silent. Then he buried his head into his knees.

“We’ll find it,” Warriors assured him. “One way or another. Such an artifact stretches far beyond our understanding – it might have returned to your era.”

“I—I didn’t want him to die,” Hyrule said in a trembling voice.

“We know,” Time soothed gently, sliding his hand along Hyrule’s back. “We didn’t want that either.”

Hyrule glanced up at him, cheeks stained with tears once more. “He’s okay, right?”

Time swallowed. Sky remained quiet in the other bed. He pushed lightly on the teenager. “Get some sleep, Link.”

XXX

It was the middle of the night when Legend finally gave up on sleeping.

His mind was whirling too much. Watching Sky basically die right in front of him, watching Hyrule nearly kill himself with the effort to wish him back with the Triforce…

It had been entirely too familiar.

He thought he’d gotten passed that. He thought he’d learned to keep moving in spite of the shadows cast over him by his journeys.

Clearly he’d been wrong.

So the young hero, a veteran of more adventures than any of the others individually, found himself incapable of handling the situation. And he hated that.

Legend wandered the castle, ignoring the cold and uninviting stone all around him. His feet guided him back to the room they’d set aside for Hyrule and Sky. The candle in his hand flickered slightly at the draft in the cavernous antechamber, chilled now that the fire in the large hearth had mostly died down.

When he slowly opened the door, he wasn’t surprised to see someone holding vigil. Time glanced up to meet his gaze.

“Just wanted to check on them,” he said dully, not bothering to hide his reasoning. This felt so different from when Twilight had been injured – Hyrule had been in there constantly trying to heal him. They’d avoided the area to let him concentrate. It had been awful, but at least there’d been a thread of hope to work with. It wasn’t as if there weren’t healers here, but the words they’d been given were little comfort.

They’d needed rest. There was nothing else they could do.

No potion could heal someone who couldn’t drink it. No spell could be cast when the one who knew the spells was the one who was unconscious. And so they’d all just done the last thing they could do, the only thing they could do.

They kept them company.

They kept them company, and Legend simmered with grief, guilt, and unresolved emotions from so many years ago that he didn’t even know how to put words to them.

Time pat the empty chair beside him welcomingly. Legend was thankful for the invitation, thankful that there were no questions being asked. He shuffled over to the chair, watching Sky sleep before his eyes drifted to Hyrule next.

“Our traveler woke up earlier,” Time said quietly.

Legend turned to him, eyes wide. “He did?”

“Yes. I think he’ll be alright with some more rest.”

Thank the goddesses, he thought. He didn’t remember the Triforce being so draining, but Hyrule had used it to augment his magic and grant a wish, so perhaps it worked differently than it had for Legend all those years ago.

Time’s words hung in the air, and then there was silence. Legend’s candle held steady against the darkness, illuminating his face, but he had no words to offer. For a moment, as he watched Sky, it felt like he was holding vigil over a body, a mourner lost in time, adrift in a different Hyrule altogether, grieving the loss of someone who was equally displaced and wholly forgotten to this era.

His breath hitched in his throat. He swallowed hard.

The silence seemed suffocating, but he had nothing to say. Time shifted uncomfortably beside him, clearly trying to find the right words. Legend didn’t care.

Sky. Sky had… just like…

There was usually something to distract him at this point, some task he had to accomplish that made him move forward despite the emotions dragging him down. But this felt like the end of a journey, after his first one or after Koholint, where there was nothing left but the emptiness in his chest, the fresh wounds on his heart. He had no road to travel on, no home to go back to, no Zelda to talk to.

He just stared at Sky.

“I have confidence that the Triforce healed the worst of it,” Time said. “Though I do not know if he will fully recover—”

“He died,” Legend interrupted.

“Veteran… he’s right here. He’s alive.”

“No,” Legend said firmly, feeling his throat tighten. He swallowed hard to fight it. “No. You don’t get it. None of you gets it. He didn’t just get hurt, he didn’t just fall. He died.”

They didn’t understand. They didn’t realize why they felt the way they did. Even he couldn’t truly comprehend it, but he knew why. He knew because it had happened before.

“The Triforce brought him back,” Legend explained. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he died. He died and none of you get that, he died, he died—”

Legend didn’t know when he’d lost the battle with his voice, when the tears had started to leak out, when the words had devolved into pathetic sobs, an admittance to a grief that he’d carried with him for years, a fresh wound and terror and horror that had ingrained itself into his soul.

Sky was one of his dearest friends. And he’d died.

He couldn’t even be angry at the Shadow, couldn’t even be curious as to what its words had meant, couldn’t even be worried about why Sky had left in the first place. All he felt was utter and absolute grief and loss.

Because Sky had died. They’d had to resurrect him. The others were caught in a confused haze of worry and fear, as if they were just watching an injured brother instead of acknowledging what had actually happened, instead of realizing that they should be mourning too.

Legend’s cries grew louder, inadvertently waking Hyrule. He didn’t notice. He couldn’t see it through his tears, through the darkness that engulfed him when Time pulled him into a hug.

XXX

Sky didn’t wake the next morning when Hyrule did. The others celebrated seeing one of their brothers slowly recovering, but the mood was certainly dampened by a lack of progress from their most injured. Wild found purpose in nourishing Hyrule back to health while Warriors started to fall into a field medic mode of sorts. Sky’s comatose state still necessitated care, though it brought a morbid curiosity in Wild – after all, he’d been in a similar state for a century.

Clearly the Shrine of Resurrection worked its magic to help sustain him. Sky had no such luck. His body still functioned as if he were awake, requiring sustenance, removing waste. He needed to be fed and cleaned, to be moved so he wouldn’t get bed sores, to be prodded to see if there was a reaction. It was a morbid affair, and it made Wild uneasy. He’d only been asleep for two days and it already felt like a century in itself.

Wild found it too disturbing to watch. Instead, he helped the others. He felt like he had to pull his weight somehow, had to blink the images of Sky’s broken body in Time’s arms. Hyrule slowly improving was something they could all latch on to. Warriors never seemed to leave Sky’s room, and Twilight spent a fair amount of time in there as well alongside Time. Occasionally Legend and Four assisted, but Wind was kept away, as well as Hyrule. Wild just couldn’t stomach the sight of the care his beloved friend needed. Whenever any of the boys lamented the situation, however, Legend would firmly and adamantly say that Sky was going to be fine.

It was strange, how confident he was. But with all his experiences, Wild had to wonder if he knew something of the matter. He latched on to the hope nonetheless. It seemed silly not to hope in a recovery, given his own history, but, well… that had taken a while. Sky didn’t have a century.

As the sun set on the second day, however, worry began to hover over them like a cloud heavy laden with an oncoming rain. After all, there was no way they could nourish Sky if he didn’t wake up.

“He’ll wake up,” Legend insisted when Four pointed this out.

“Assuming he does, that still doesn’t address the biggest issue,” Four sighed. “What if… what if when he wakes up, he tries to leave again?”

“He wouldn’t!” Wind argued.

“How do you know?” Four fired back. “He’d been running from us the entire time!”

Wild watched the exchange warily. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t wondered what had caused all of this in the first place, but it honestly hadn’t crossed his mind that it could happen again. He felt Hyrule shift uncomfortably beside him, and he turned his attention to his exhausted brother.

“You don’t think he wanted to leave us, do you?” Hyrule asked him quietly.

Words latched on to the champion’s brain, having first hooked in his mind when he’d heard them two days ago.

You don’t realize how terribly you failed.

This entire journey, Wild had been the failure of the group. Hearing those words had made him think the Shadow had been addressing him when he’d known, he’d known that it had been addressing Sky. But what failure was Sky responsible for? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Unless, of course, the Shadow was simply talking about Sky’s pursuit of it. But… Sky’s frantic attempts to argue, to silence it…

“No,” Wild answered distantly. “I don’t think he wanted to leave us.”

XXX

“It’s been two hours; we should move him.”

“I can do it.”

“No, it’s all right. You carried him last time. I’ll do it.”

What? What was… what?

Link felt impossibly heavy. His half-addled brain wondered if he’d become a sword spirit like Fi, made entirely of metal.

He was lying on something soft, he knew that much. He felt like he was sinking into it so much that he would never be able to get out.

Except he was getting out of it. Or, well, floating out of it. Flying? Was he flying?

Warmth wrapped around his back and shoulders, around the back of his knees. Two grounding forces, holding him steady in a vast expanse of nothing. He felt himself dangling and shifting in rhythmic motions.

Distant voices grew closer as the sound of creaking wood emitted beneath him in shuffles.

“Don’t spill it!”

“Oh, quit your fussing, Vet! Here, Traveler, just drink slowly. We kept it warm for you.”

“Are you guys done arguing? I have a story to finish!”

Grumbles. Sighing.

“Go on, Sailor.” That voice rumbled, buzzing in Sky’s ear with the warmth of a hearth and accompanied by a gentle heartbeat.

“So there I was, thirty bokoblins between me and my goal—”

“Oh boy, they multiplied again,” a voice remarked dryly.

“What are you talking about?”

Sailor. Sailor? What?

Link tried to focus, but he was being lulled back to sleep by gentle sways as if he were laying on a hammock on Skyloft.

“It seems each time you tell it more bokoblins appear.” There was that rumbling tone again, waking Link slightly, relaxing him and drawing him into a trance. It was so familiar…

There was a decidedly annoyed huff in reply. “Hey, I know what I’m talking about! Anyway, so there were fifty bokoblins between me and—”

Link finally pried an eye open. Then he blearily tried to do it with his other eye. Everything was so blurry.

The hammock he was on continued to sway gently. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“That’s impossible and you know it, Sailor!”

“Nuh uh, that’s what happened—”

“Sky?”

The swaying stopped, jostling Link out of his relaxed state a little more. He tried to look up, but he couldn’t muster the strength. However, his perception was finally piecing together an image in his brain, and he belatedly realized he was not, in fact, lying on a hammock.

Someone was carrying him.

Someone was carrying him, and the sailor was here. But not just the sailor. He recognized all their voices.

“Sky, can you hear me?”

The rumbling from before returned. The gentle, steady heartbeat had increased a little. Who was carrying him? Link tried again with all his might to move his head, to tip it back just enough to see above, to identify who was holding him. It definitely wasn’t the captain; the voice was deeper than his. That just left Time and Twilight.

It had to be Twilight, then. The man was freakishly strong, and Time would never—

“Here—move this—put him here, old man.”

Huh?

Link felt his world move as the person carrying him—Time—took a few steps forward. There was scrambling and shuffling of items, hushed whispers and excited laughs. Link felt something somewhat hard and warm rise up to meet his back as he was laid on top of something, and his head settled on someone’s lap.

A hand gently brushed his bangs out of his eyes before settling on his chest, giving it a soft pat. With his head facing towards the ceiling, he saw eight faces slowly come into focus, all encircling him like flower petals around its center.

He drank in the sight, having missed his friends so much. Twilight was the one his head was resting on, the one who had a hand on his chest and a reassuring, gentle smile directly over him. Time stood behind Twilight, a hand on the rancher’s shoulder, also watching him, though his expression was less warm and more concerned. To Link’s left were Legend, who quickly placed a hand on Link’s shoulder, Wind, who was smiling so brightly he outshone the sunlight, and Warriors, who had both hands on Wind’s shoulders as he leaned over to see Link more clearly. Hyrule sat a distance away towards Link’s feet, with Wild directly beside him and holding him steadily in a side hug, his face beaming. To his right, Four’s smile was genuine and trembling, his eyes glistening with tears. Link managed to get the muscles in his face to cooperate, and he gave a weak smile.

The group let out a collective sigh of relief, and then laughter echoed in the air. Link was bombarded by voices competing for his attention.

“We were so worried—”

“Our Traveler nearly killed himself to get you better, we thought we were going to lose both of you!”

“We missed you so much, Sky—”

“We really thought you were a goner! Like seriously, Vet was crying—”

“I was not crying!!”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Everyone hushed at the question issued by Twilight. Link watched them all, his smile fading alongside his energy. He took a deep breath, trying to piece everything together, his mind still too slow to process it all, and Twilight patted his chest again.

“It’s okay if you’re too tired to talk,” Twilight said softly. “We got you out of bed so you wouldn’t get bed sores, but now that you’re waking up, maybe it’ll be okay?”

Here Twilight directed his attention to Warriors, seeming to ask him if it would, in fact, be all right. The captain ruffled Wind’s hair, making the sailor giggle and step aside, and he drew closer to Link and Twilight. “Mostly. If he’s too weak to move, we’ll still need to do it for him.”

Link could hardly put anything together. But one sentence suddenly burned in his mind, registering and making him try to bolt into a seated position. His body refused to obey, and he barely had curled into his abdomen before his head flopped back on Twilight’s lap with a grunt.

“Easy, Sky,” Twilight soothed gently, pulling Link onto his lap completely with strong grips under his arms. Link settled his head against the elder’s shoulder, gasping for air at the exertion. “It’s okay. We’ll take care of you.”

“T-Traveler…” Link managed to scrape out, his heart racing.

Hyrule shuffled closer, sitting on whatever object Link had just been lying on earlier. He reached a shaking hand out to the Skyloftian, squeezing his upper arm. “I’m here, Sky. You’re okay.”

His grip felt so incredibly weak, even to Link’s addled mind. He felt his stomach drop.

He’d made it worse. Somehow, he’d made it worse. Hyrule had almost died because of him.

“I’m s-sorry,” he stammered, his eyes stinging with tears, his mind berating himself over and over and over.

“Sorry?” Hyrule repeated, confused. “Sorry for what?”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Twilight reassured him, his gentle voice relaxing Link’s body, even if his mind continued to whirl.

“Sky, we’re just happy you’re alive,” Four said quickly. “Please don’t—don’t try to do anything. Just stay here. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“N-no,” Link protested weakly. “I—I need—I—it’s my—I can’t—”

His entire world shifted as Twilight lifted him into his arms and stood. “Shh, it’s okay, Sky. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

Despite his complete exhaustion, Link almost wanted to snap. He wasn’t a child, damn it. He had to tell them, he had to make them realize it was best to leave him here, he could recover on his own and then he could hunt—

Wait.

“Shadow?” he asked quietly.

“He escaped, as he always does,” Time said from somewhere to Twilight’s right. “He’s a coward.”

“Yeah, but the Old Man left him with a pretty good parting gift!” Wind piped in. “Arrow to the chest! And Champion got one in his eye too!”

Link wilted in Twilight’s arms. The Shadow was still alive, and he hadn’t even been able to land any meaningful hits on him. The others had to come rescue him. The others, who bore the brunt of his own stupidity and weakness, and who continued to do so.

He was too tired for this. Too weak to hold back his brittle mind and body’s reaction. Too spent to care that he was suddenly weeping.

It just wasn’t fair. Why did they have to suffer for him? Why couldn’t he get this right?! How did he just keep compounding upon his failure?!

“Sky, what’s wrong? It’s okay, we’re all okay, the Shadow didn’t get anyone except for you.” Wild hastily said as Twilight hesitated in lowering him, instead opting to sway back and forth calmingly.

He felt someone card their hand through his hair and wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay, Sky. Everyone’s safe, and so are you.”

Warriors’ words were both a blessing and a curse. Link was eternally grateful everyone was fine, but this just wasn’t right.

“I—I s-should’ve—should’ve—”

“Link.”

He snapped out his stuttering, surprised at hearing his own name for the first time in ages. He had long since stopped viewing himself as part of the group, but he’d been remiss to throw his name out for the world to hear when he’d realized he was in Twilight’s Hyrule.

“No one is expecting you to eliminate the Shadow by yourself,” Time said firmly. “We wouldn’t all be here if that was the case. Whatever has convinced you to think you should handle this alone, it’s wrong.”

The room suddenly exploded into sound, cutting off whatever argument Link might have had.

“Wait, you wanted to take on the Shadow alone?!”

“Sky, are you insane, I thought you were one of the smarter ones in our group, what the actual hell—”

“The goddesses wouldn’t bring us all together if we could take the Shadow by ourselves!”

“You could have gotten yourself killed, Sky, what were you thinking?”

“Enough,” Time interrupted the group. “Let him rest.”

Link felt himself being lowered onto the bed, and the blankets were tucked all the way to his chin. He saw the group surrounding the bed worriedly, some looking more annoyed than others, some looking scared, and some hurt and bewildered.

Link sniffled helplessly.

Wind immediately jumped into the bed, kicking off his shoes and snuggling in beside him. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Everyone agreed with words that Link didn’t bother to discern, and he felt Wind tuck himself neatly in between his right side and arm, resting his head on his shoulder. Link suddenly felt sore, but he didn’t protest.

“Aryll loves cuddling when she’s scared or hurting or doesn’t feel good,” Wind whispered with a smile. “I figured you didn’t want to be alone.”

Link couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. He bit back another apology in lieu of letting the sailor have a chance to help, and he closed his eyes, resting his cheek on Wind’s forehead and closing his eyes.

The world grew warm and heavy. Exhaustion pulled at him, allowing him to settle back into sleep, but just before its gentle embrace could take him, his mind jolted back to—

Bleeding. He was bleeding so much. A bone deep exhaustion dragged his mind away, but he clung desperately. This was a different kind of tired, a far too permanent sleep beckoning him.

“S-Shadow…”

He had to know. He had to be sure.

“He’s gone,” Time said. “He’s gone.”

He… he did it?

He did it. They were safe. They were safe.

He felt tears sting in his eyes, his heart fluttering. His mission was… over.

He’d finally eliminated Demise.

He laughed, he laughed in relief. His brothers would no longer be haunted by that demon. He couldn’t eliminate the wounds of the past, but he could prevent any in the future.

“What were you thinking?” he heard Time whisper.

It didn’t matter now, whether they knew or not. But he still… he still felt obligated to say it. “M-making… amends…”

He could never truly make up for everything. But at least now he could…

He could rest. Goddess, he could rest.

I’m sorry Zelda, he thought. He apologized to her over and over, to Groose and to all his friends on Skyloft.

He knew. In his heart, he knew.

This was his last mission.

“I’m… sorry,” he said aloud before directing the apology at those around him. Because he knew he was leaving them too, and he knew he would never get a chance to truly apologize for all the harm he’d caused. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry…

The darkness pulled, and he drowned in it.

Link’s eyes snapped open. He’d—goddess, he’d—how—

Hyrule. He—he must have—

“Why?” he asked quietly, his voice little more than a whine.

“Hm…?” Wind perked up, already groggy, but his eyes were sharp as he looked at Link. “What’s wrong?”

Link couldn’t let this out on their youngest. But he couldn’t stop his raw emotions either, and before he knew it he was crying again. “Why?”

Wind watched him, eyes suddenly far older than they had any right to be. The boy held a gentleness and understanding to him, a sympathy and sorrow that intermingled, and he leaned down to hold him tightly.

“Because we love you, Sky.”

Sky fell apart completely, sobbing in his brother’s shirt.

#writing #elastic heart #linkeduniverse #linked universe #I... don't know how I feel about Time's POV :-/#I felt pretty good about Legend's as the point of his uncle's death and resurrection being very similar jammed itself into my brain #but... flow of this chapter... ehhh #oh well whatever just take it #I'm pretty ok with it overall #lu sky #all the boys #Warriors is not ok but he'll act it #I kind of want to address him too but I'm tired lol #somebody give Wars a hug for me #give ALL of them a hug for me #poor Legend #and Time #and just yeah #all of them

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ghostofskywalker · 4 months

Note

Your writing is amazing thanks so much for sharing!

For the winter ficlets how about “Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.” With a gender neutral reader and Kix?

No pressure though thank you!

this was so fun, thank you for the prompt!!

words: 1,035

summary: Kix startles you awake in the medbay by accident. He just wants to make sure you get the rest you need.

Long Hours Make For Tired Jedi Healers

clone troopers masterlist || request a winter ficlet!

As Kix stepped into the Resolute’s medbay for his shift, he stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on you. Your overall presence in the space wasn’t a surprise, as he had known that you were here on the ship, but he had never seen a Jedi sleep before, and especially not the one that he had a little crush on.

For someone that fought tooth and nail to ensure that all clone medics had all the tools they could ever need on their flagships and that there was a mandatory cap on how many hours someone could work in a row without at least a sixteen hour break, you were terrible at following your own advice. The amount of time you had spent in this very chair was completely unknown to him, and he knew that it was probably way longer than you were going to admit.

The three patients in the medbay that you were technically watching over were also fast asleep, and Kix was grateful that life had slowed down a little for now. Of course the galaxy was still at war, and would be for the foreseeable future, but he still liked to take advantage of the times when his stress levels began to come down.

It was no shock that you had fallen asleep, especially with how your life was going at this point in time. Because you had some healing experience under your belt by the time the war broke out, you spent most of your time bouncing between battalions rather than working with a consistent group of soldiers, helping overworked medics in any way you could. Kix was always incredibly grateful for the time he spent with you, and not only because you were an incredible healer. He knew that developing feelings for a Jedi was never going to end in anything but heartbreak, but he could never help it with you.

Torn between wanting to let you sleep and also thinking that you would benefit the most from this nap if it took place in a bed rather than a chair, he took a few steps towards you, intending to wake you in the gentlest way he possibly could, but those plans were shattered when he accidently tripped over his own feet, only catching himself by throwing his arms out to grab onto the desk (that you were resting your head on).

Your head shot up instantly, and a somewhat crazed look took over your features as you grabbed the first thing you could find in order to use it as a weapon.

You were probably going for your lightsaber, but it just so happened that your datapad was actually the closest item. The image Kix saw was nothing but comical, especially given the fact that GAR-issued technology was incredibly fragile and wouldn’t at all make for an effective weapon. “Kix!” you said as you took in the situation, your face shifting as embarrassment took over your features. “I’m so sorry, you just startled me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a smile. “But I will say, I’ve never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

A soft scoff left your mouth as you shook your head, the absurdity of the situation finally clicking in your mind. “Yeah, I don’t know what I thought was going to happen when I grabbed it.”

“I’m sorry for waking you like that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to throw myself against the table.”

“It seems we’re both a little bit of a mess today,” you laughed. “I won’t hold it against you, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” he said, a smile growing on his face (as one always did when he spoke to you). “You should go get some rest.”

To others, those words might have seemed like he was trying to push you out of the room, but he never meant it that way. Wanting to make sure the people he cared about took care of themselves was so ingrained in Kix’s personality that he barely noticed when the instinct took over, and you were absolutely one of those people (and not only because he knew that you rarely put your own needs before anyone else’s).

And as he suspected, you weren’t about to start doing that now. “No, I’m fine,” you said. “I should be around to help if you need me.” He raised his eyebrows at you, and he must have succeeded in getting across some of his emotions, because you spoke again, this time with a slight defensive tone to your voice. “What if something happens?”

“We are in so far away from any planet that I think you can get some rest for a few hours,” Kix said. “You know I’m a fully trained medic, right?”

Your eyes widened as you took in his implication. “I’m not suggesting- I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t mean it like that, I promise,” he laughed, cutting off your frantic words. “But I can tell that you’re tired, so you need to get some rest.”

Something about his tone (or maybe it was his expression) must have clicked in your mind, because you just nodded before beginning to gather your things from the desk. “You can comm me if you need anything, and I’ll be here-”

“I will let you know if there is some kind of emergency,” he said, even though he doubted it would ever happen. “Now please, can you go and get some rest? For me?”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around him for a moment, and Kix relished in the feeling of your closeness (even if it was over way quicker than he wanted it to be). “I will,” you said softly. “But-”

He just looked at you, clearly pretending to be annoyed .“Go!”

You echoed his teasing tone. “Fine!”

Soon Kix was once again the only waking person in the medbay, and he faced a long shift ahead of him, but he didn’t really mind being alone for a little while. He certainly didn’t want to admit how much your short hug had affected him, and he just hoped that you were truly getting the rest you so desperately needed.

- the end -

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#winterficlets23 #kix x reader #clone medic kix #clone medic kix x reader #clone medic kix x you #kix x gender neutral reader #kix x you #clone trooper x reader #star wars x reader

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mwolf0epsilon · 3 months

Text

Kih (Small)

Summary: After being knocked out in the field by a smoke bomb of all things, Dogma wakes up to a rather startling situation...

[The size related tomfoolery with the models in Blender got me inspired to write something very short and simple. Pun intended.]

THIS DRABBLE IS ALSO ON AO3

---

It wasn't uncommon for Dogma to have dreams where he was sure that he was falling from the heavens. In fact, after Umbara, it had only gotten more common for him to experience this particular phenomenon.

In these dreams he'd be painfully wide-eyed behind his bucket. Lungs burning from ferociously gulping down shallow gasps of air that were being pushed through the filters, while his limbs were left flailing uselessly as indiscernible foliage passed him by at an alarming rate.

In those unreal moments, locked away in his own subconscious, his back often felt weighted down by a failing jetpack. Or, perhaps more accurately, the lack of one at all...

The distinct plummeting sensation was one that often startled him awake. A sensation that felt intimately familiar like if it were a memory, despite him never having actually experiencing in full force it out in the field.

In truth, Dogma had fallen only once during a climbing exercise back on Kamino. The suspension cable that he'd been told to use had snapped due to being poorly maintained, and he'd met with the floor as gracelessly as a sack of tubers. Even so he'd not been at a considerable height, merely 2 feet above the ground at the very start of the steep climb.

Still, the experience had managed to leave him terribly afraid. Not of heights, but of the unstoppable force of gravity that would pull him down should he be unfortunate enough to slip up in its overbearing presence.

This had a name, he was sure. Trattok'or o'r vercopase. To fall in dreams...

Not a unique occurrence. Even if a little strange, or even perhaps nonsensical to think about so fervently as he often did. It was perfectly valid to fear falling to one's death, even if realistically that wouldn't happen while he was perfectly safe in his bunk.

So pardon his lack of composure when he awoke from what should have been a simple nap, only to find that his current reality was not so far from the one in his nightmares after all...

By some miracle of the Force (or perhaps just luck, since clones like him are not blessed with mystical properties of that sort) he manages to stop his rapid descent by clawing at a piece of cloth that's just barely hanging over solid ground. Terror-fueled adrenaline strengthening his shaky grip, and preventing him from ending up a splattered mess all over the durasteel floor paneling.

In a moment's notice he's definitely awake, but not yet fully aware of what exactly is going on (aside from the fact he'd nearly just fallen to his death). But at the very least he recognizes that he is no longer asleep and at the whims of his mind's occasional trickery.

It takes a little longer for the fog of drowsiness and confusion to dissipate fully. And it only does so when it registers what it is that he's holding onto for dear life.

It makes little sense to him at first, but there's no mistaking its identity. The smell alone, even through the filter of his bucket (which he was for some reason still wearing even in rest), is one that is rather recognizable to him after all: Antiseptic and GAR standard detergent.

Bedding from a cot in the medbay.

He was hanging off a bed that was many times his size while clinging onto a thin sheet that had been recently washed, and that is also proportionately sized with the giant bed. Or rather, the average sized bed where his inexplicably abnormal height looks pixie-like.

Dogma decides then and there that he would rather still be sleeping instead of waking up to such a horrifying reality...

"Help! Someone help!!!" to his own ears his voice was as loud as ever, even if his tone sounded a little pathetic from him being beyond panicked. The truth was that, due to his current predicament, the pitch and volume of his voice were probably not making it easy for anyone to actually hear his desperate pleas.

And his grip, as tight as it was on the sheet due to fear alone, was starting to fail him.

Realistically, a fall from a cot was by no means a deadly affair. At least not usually. But, at his current stature... Well... He would most definitely not make the landing, at least not without shattering every bone in his body and liquefying his organs in the process.

"Please! Someone!!!" He kept calling out regardless of whether or not anyone would hear. Limbs beginning to shake from the strain of keeping himself from falling to his doom, and tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. "I'm down here!!!"

Predictably, no one was heeding his call. And his hands simply couldn't hold on forever.

"NO!!!!" gravity met with him once more, and for a second Dogma's very short life began to flash before his eyes. Regrets and ambitions, trauma and futile dreams, all playing out in his mind's eye as the floor neared.

He had not at all lived a very fulfilling or useful life.

Mercifully, soft plushness collided with his flailing body instead of the cold hard metal ground he expected. It seemed that in his absolute desperation to keep a hold on the sheet, he hadn't noticed the fluffy slippers that were positioned just by the side of the cot.

Conveniently right where he'd be landing as well.

Laying face down on one of the aforementioned slippers, Dogma thanked all the little gods known and unknown that Tup always felt the need to disregarded medbay regulations in favor of bringing him the ridiculously paw shaped (but surprisingly orthopedic), footwear to try to make his stay more comfortable.

For once, breaking the rules had saved his life. Not that he'd admit it to anyone...

"Thank the stars..." sitting up slowly and trying to regain his bearings, Dogma's relief was very much short-lived as he noticed the way his helmet's HUD had begun to glitch at the very center of his visor. Even though the blow had been cushioned, it still seemed the impact itself had shaken something loose. "Oh great, that'll take ages to fix. Provided I find a way to reverse whatever trat'ade did this to me..."

Somehow the sargeant doubted the GAR made tools mouse-sized.

Tapping the side of his helmet, the diminished trooper yelped as the glitching HUD only worsened. The speakers of the internal comms beginning to shriek due to some kind of interference.

Startled and with his ears now ringing from the shrill shriek, Dogma opted to completely turn off both the HUD and comms. If just to avoid blasting his own eardrums out, or even potentially blinding himself with all the flashing lights.

"Urgh... No one can hear me cry out, and now I can't even use my gear to call for help. What do I do?" He mumbled to himself as he looked around from atop the slipper. The medbay was fairly quiet and the lights were dimmed out, so he assumed that it was probably late into the current cycle. Which meant the medics were taking the time to rest while their patients slept, meaning none of them would be lingering around idly. Even if he weren't so small, he wouldn't just be able to flag one down. "Rangir! I'll just go into the side office myself... Coric and Kix take their breaks there more often than not."

Mind made up, the shrunken trooper carefully shuffled down the side of the slipper and began the proportionally long journey to what he hoped would be his salvation.

Were he not so set on getting this fixed as soon as possible (if just so he could attend to his duties rather than shirk them unnecessarily), perhaps Dogma would have scolded himself for considering such a risky idea in the first place.

The medbay was no place for a creature as small as himself. Especially when he didn't really know which isle of cots he was on, or where to really go. His intel and line of sight were limited and there were dangers lurking about. Ones he didn't consider dangerous to him, because his brain didn't usually register them as such.

Until now...

As Dogma turned the corner at the very foot of the cot, just past the divider that provided some semblance of privacy for the patient, he was met with a rather horrifying sight: The spinning bristles of a mouse droid dutifully at work.

"ACK!" Dodging out of the way at the very last second, Dogma barely made it across the cleaning droid's path. However, as he rested a hand over his chest plate and gasped for the air that had all but left his lungs in a hurry, another issue presented itself to him.

The droid had spotted him. And medbay mouse droids were, in terms of pest control, extremely vicious things.

"Uuh... Easy there little guy..." He raised his hands in defense, gulping loudly as the droid turned to fully face him. Its cleaning bristles retreating into a slot in its chassis as it did so.

It was somewhat comical that he was calling it little, when it stood much taller and more threatening than he did at the moment. But alas, the comedy of the situation died the moment the droid opened up yet another slot to reveal its pest control function. The grinding blades turning on in ominous fashion

".....Shab." Turning on his heel the sergeant wasted little to no time in running for dear life, as the droid began chasing after him at its maximum speed. Intent on turning him into minced meat that it would then clean up without a fuss.

Probably leaving little evidence of his fate in the process.

Lucky for him, Dogma was in good enough shape that he could outrun it. Track had always been one of his best physical records. Unluckily however, the droid was very much not giving up the chase and was hellbent on ending his life in a much more painful manner than a fall from a height.

Being only human it was obvious he wouldn't be able to keep up the pace for long, and that eventually he'd be overrun by the murderous mouse droid. Taken out as if he were little more than a common household pest.

Or rather, he would have if danger number two didn't notice the ongoing commotion.

6 beady red eyes locking in on the rapid movements of both the tiny clone and the mouse droid and, finding it infinitely more fun to investigate them both than sit around chewing on a nerf bone, Beautiful rose up onto her feet before letting out a playful bark that sounded more like a call for blood in Dogma's ears.

"CRAP!!!!" the already quite terrified trooper turned around, sidestepping the droid that had been trying to kill him just a minute ago, before it too turned around and zoomed by him in a panic as Sponge's monstrous pet charged after the both of them.

The universe sure had a sadistic need to kick him when he was already down, didn't it?

To say that Tup was worried was a bit of an understatement. He had, after all, very good reason to be concerned on any given day simply by being a part of the 501st.

Things had, as per usual, not gone quite to plan while Torrent Company had been planet-side. But then again, when didn't the general's plans go a little bit sideways? Or upside down? Or get scrapped altogether for something completely improvised on the fly?

That said, this time there had been no lighthearted humor to be found in the situation. Although they'd salvaged the mission in spite of the enemy's unexpected flanking tactics, there had still been quite a few injuries sustained.

Several troopers had ended up in the medbay with varying ailments of all shapes and sizes. From sprained to broken limbs, and even quite a few torn muscles.

And then there was Dogma who, for all that he or anyone else knew, could be in an actual coma...

As his thoughts turned to his twin, Tup's frown worsened considerably while he paced up and down the hall adjacent to the medbay. He'd been forced out after several hours of standing vigil by his batcher's bedside. Hoping that the other would wake up and shake off whatever it was that he'd been drugged with.

The medics hadn't been able to identify the compound in the odd smoke bomb that had hit Dogma head on. Not when the entire ordeal had happened so unexpectedly, with the sergeant having placed himself in the path of the mystery artillery shell. Making himself into a meat shield of sorts for Hardcase, who had been too busy gunning down the enemy to notice the stray grenadier droid aiming for him.

One second Dogma was standing by Tup's side taking pot-shots at heedless clankers that had been unwise enough not to retreat into better cover, and then the next he was a click away collapsed on the muddy ground while a strange purple smoke dissipated from his general vicinity.

His air filter having seemingly failed him in a rather critical moment.

On a positive note, the grenadier hadn't even had the time to have the last laugh. A blaster bolt piercing it through the center of the head, before a volley of blaster fire ripped the remainder of its body to shreds. The need for vengeance having clouded both Tup's and Hardcase's minds, before they'd rushed to drag Dogma away from further harm's way and towards the careful watch of the field medics.

All evidence had been carried away by the wind, so ultimately they had just accepted that whatever the sergeant had inhaled might have been some kind of sleeping gas. A plausible theory, since the only affect it seemed to have on the dogmatic clone was simply knocking him out until next prime day...

And that did seem like less of a hyperbolic expression with each passing hour, since Dogma had in fact been asleep for two days now. Actual prime day looming ever closer, as he slumbered on in the medbay without a conscious care in the world.

Still, something about this did not bode well for Tup. Call it a gut feeling or perhaps just an acquired instinct, but something just felt...Off about the situation.

After all, who used a smoke bomb of all things against a person instead of using it for providing cover?

Shaking his head, Tup turned and headed back towards the medbay. He'd already slept and eaten, so the medics had no reason to kick him out a second time. And, even if they tried, he'd find a way to give them a compelling argument. If just to appease this nagging feeling that he could not shake off no matter how hard he tried.

As he passed the threshold, the long-haired trooper dutifully racked his brain for any such arguments to propose to either Kix, or Coric, or even Sponge, only to stop dead in his tracks as he was met with quite the alarming sight...

Beautiful was up and about in an uncharacteristic frenzy. The normally docile barghest having left her usual spot on the pet bed Sponge had neatly prepared her (so she could "keep watch of the more difficult patients", or so they'd claimed), and had set off on a mad dash after a mouse droid of all things.

Or rather, that's what it initially appeared to him on first glance.

From his position Tup could at first only see the droid that was on the receiving end of Beau's enthusiastic chase instincts. Only when it circle back, did the trooper actually see the other "critter" she was gunning for.

And by then his jaw was all but dropped to the floor.

Because there was no way he could see a miniaturized brother and keep a straight face on. Not in this or any other life. Especially when said brother was currently shrieking in a voice that was both full of fear, and as high pitched as a cartoon character on copious amounts of helium.

"Heeeelp!!! Get this rabid beast away from me!!!!" Dogma (there was simply no mistaking his twin's signature armour for anyone else's) shrieked to high heavens as he seemed to begin to slow down. No doubt already tired from stars only knew how many laps he'd done, trying to evade both getting run over by an equally panicked mouse droid and highly motivated barghest.

"Beautiful no! Bad girl!!!" sprinting forward to his shrunken twin's aid, Tup did his best to cut the excited beast off, before latching onto the harness that was hidden by her wild mane. "Heel!!!"

The mouse droid took the chance to roll towards the nearest vent, while Dogma ran for cover under one of the cots. Thus ensuring both of their safeties while Tup warded off Beautiful's advances.

"Come on girl, sit. Siiit." Tup kept the barghest restrained, trying to gain her attention which was, surprisingly, a little harder than he expected. She seemed reluctant to let her quarry go. But, being that she was quite obedient by nature, eventually she glanced up at him and seemed to consider the command with an almost insulted look on her slobbery and snaggletoothed face.

"Come on girl...Sit." Trying to sound a little more assertive like the medic who'd trained her, Tup made an effort to lower his voice a little.

To make himself sound tough and unyielding. Like he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Huffing, Beau didn't seem impressed with his efforts but did as she was told with an almost roll of her eyes. Earning herself a good scratch under her jaw as a reward, despite Tup himself feeling a little ridiculous at being openly mocked by an overgrown lapdog.

"Good girl... Uh... Get Sponge? You know that word right? Get? And Sponge?" Tup fumbled a little, trying to remember what else it had been that the medic had taught the clever beast. "Get Sponge?"

6 eyes blinked up at him innocently before Beautiful calmly tugged her harness loose from his grip, and moved towards the medbay door which she patiently waited to automatically open before carrying on on her way.

Hopefully she was going to grab the medic and not an actual sponge. And, although that would be undoubtedly humorous, it would most definitely not be very helpful right now...

"Right..." Turning his attention back to where he'd seen the diminutive Dogma abscond to, Tup got onto his knees and glanced beneath the cot the other had picked as his hiding spot.

There, pressed against the foot of the cot, sat his shrunken twin. Still wearing his kit but looking all kinds of shaken up, if the way he was trembling like a leaf in the wind was anything to go by.

"Oh. Hey now, it's ok..." Chest aching with pity, Tup reached out with a hand as he spoke in as soft a tone as possible. But, rather than bring Dogma out into the open, his reassurances seemed to have done the opposite. For, instead of moving closer, Dogma simply pressed himself against the wall. His little visor barely reflected in the shadows of his hiding spot.

"Easy Dogma... It's just Tup. See?" trying to placate his terrified sibling, Tup lay flat on his stomach and began to crawl under the cot so that Dogma could more easily see his face and recognize he was no longer in any danger.

Which, for obvious reasons, was a very bad idea in hindsight...

A tiny startled squeak barely registered in the regular-sized trooper's ears, before the now pocket-sized Dogma scrambled out from under the cot he was hiding under, onto the next closest one which was further in the medbay and very much a dead end.

It seemed the sergeant was too afraid to trust anyone right now.

"Dogma..." sighing, Tup pulled himself back out from under the cot and followed the shrunken trooper. As much as he didn't want to aggravate the situation and further stress his kih'vod, there was no way he could just let him roam as he was. Not at his current size where even something as simple as a mouse droid could pose a real threat to him. "Vod... I'm not going hurt you. Just... Just come out from under there so I can help you..."

No response. He didn't really expect one either, considering Dogma had the annoying habit of going quiet when he was freaked out.

"...Have it your way." shaking his head, Tup did the next best thing that he knew would yield some results. He pushed the cot aside and lunged forward onto one knee. The sudden actions catching Dogma so off-guard that he couldn't dodge out of the way in time.

One knee on the ground and the other propped up for balance, Tup smiled as his fingers effortlessly wrapped around the tiny trooper's torso. Then, with expected ease (because Dogma really was very small and proportionally weighted very little), he lifted up the squirming sergeant up to meet his face.

"Got ya!" he smiled wide, briefly satisfied with the swift capture he'd just pulled off. But, within a second's notice, his smile dropped as he noted with some regret the way Dogma had suddenly frozen up. Staring up at him with what he could only assume was muted horror.

Good intentions or not, he'd still managed to scare his little brother half to death.

"You're safe now." He offered, but the attempt at appeasement was met with the miniaturized trooper promptly fainting in his grip. "...Crap."

Tup doubted he'd have an easy time explaining any of this to the medics. He could hardly believe this was happening himself, and he was holding the limp evidence in his hand.

Still, he had a duty to protect his younger twin. Had promised to look after him when their squad had ultimately become separated before and after deployment. So, instead of getting lost in what ifs and other such speculative trains of thoughts, Tup carefully braced his unconscious brother in his hands, and made his way towards the medical officer's side office.

"Hang on tight kih'Dogma... Your ori'vod's got you."

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #clone trooper dogma #clone trooper tup #giant/tiny #g/t #shrinking

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zproblematic · 11 months

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Okay, so I am on the verge of tearing my hair out over this, but i don't want to deal with drama so I'm putting it on my dead sideblog.

Miguel is NOT the villain. He's the antagonist! They aren't the same thing!

Every post i see where people are talking about "Oh how didn't the realize how Crazy/Mean/Villainous Miguel was?" Keep forgetting the CONTEXT of Miguel being angry with Miles' actions.

The context of it being, Miguel tried to change his own story, because it was fucking terrible and he just wanted some happiness for once. He went against the literal FATE of the world that had been written for it, 'canon', so the world unraveled.

Literally imagine the fate of the worlds as a woven tapestry, him changing the story was him tearing out a stitch. Might seem minor in the onset, but that torn stitch leads to the surrounding ones coming undone eventually culminating in the tapestry unraveling.

Miguel's fucking DAUGHTER died in his arms!

And then he goes back to his world. And this fucking terrible experience of what happens when you fuck with fate and mess around in other universes makes him look into other universes, this time with the intent of preventing the same from happening to them.

Whether that's by hunting down the anomalies that manage to pass between the dimensions or what have you.

Through this he gathers various Spider's to his cause. He accumulates HUNDREDS of them! They are in support of his mission!

Miguel is the 'leader' of this group because he's the one who founded it, the one who does the most actual work regarding it, made the technology, set up a building for the Spider's to socialize in, etc.

Also, his looking into other universes likely includes him feeding that worlds information into his AI. He has literal statistical data as to what are considered foundational events across the multiverse, especially in regards to Spider's.

When the anomaly opens up on Pavitr's world after Miles saved the police captain there's a comment made about how Miguel has teams to deal with it. That it's happened before and generally the world is lost regardless of their efforts.

It's not just Miguel's traumatic experience pushing him into keeping to 'canon' events. It's likely multiple other instances of the same/similar happening to other Spider's!

And here's where we get into his behavior towards Miles. Yes it's fucking terrible, i won't argue that.

But Miguel is looking at this teen who's saying "I'll do what I want!" Ignoring that Miguel isn't feeding him some bullshit line about how he needs to let his dad die so he can 'be like the other Spider's ' He's telling Miles not to save his dad because if he DOES the world will end. Billions of lives will be gone.

Miguel thinks Miles' selfishness is that he believes his dad is worth more than a whole world of people. And he has super advanced programming that has done the calculations TELLING him that Miles' can't change fate without the world ending.

Miguel isn't somehow the ultimate leader of the Spider's either, the others AGREE with him that Miles can't save his dad because of what the consequences would be.

Most of the hundreds of Spider's are adults or equivalent. They can make their own choices and form their own opinions and they AGREE with Miguel.

Because being a Spider is being a hero, and being a hero is constantly living God's most fucked up trolley problem. "Do i save this bus full of people or the one person I care about? Do i let this group of innocent bystanders get killed by an attacking villain or do i catch my girlfriend from her fatal fall?"

And without fail every hero Spider chooses to sacrifice the one to save the many.

Miguel hears Miles say he wants to save his dad, in his mind saying he would let the world end, and doesn't consider Miles as a proper Spider-hero, he's too selfish to be one.

The problem is, Miles is a teen, he has these amazing abilities and no real interest in listening to authority figures. Someone trying to act as an authority figure and telling him the only way he can be a hero is by letting his dad die isn't going to fly.

And of course, even though the other side has actual evidence and math to back it up Miles thinks it doesn't matter. That he can do whatever he wants because why wouldn't he be able to?

He's a teen hero who has largely gone against small-time criminals up to this point and doesn't see why he wouldn't be able to save everyone and be happy.

Even with this context, Miguel does fucked up shit. He definitely takes it way to far, a fact which Peter B seems to realize too late. He's a 30-40 something man traumatized by his experiences seeing a teen loudly shouting he's going to do the same thing and not listening to anyone about why he shouldn't.

The way he attacks Miles is insane and feral and like he HATES him. Which makes no sense given that up to this he seems like a tired grumpy guy who's the only serious person in the workplace, and they've only just met.

He gets insanely angry with Miles, probably partially because he's projecting his self-loathing onto Miles. He hates himself and sees himself in Miles and hates Miles for it. He believes that Miles actions have likely already damned Pavitr's world, and now he's going to go damn his own?

Of course, this being a story of a teen hero Miles will likely end up able to save his father and not lose his world because of it all. And Miguel will likely get in some serious fucking trouble for how crazy he went at Miles.

But Miguel isn't the villain, he's not acting to harm others or out of his own selfishness. He's the antagonist, he's trying to stop Miles [the protagonist] from achieving his goal.

#ATSV #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miles morales #spiderman #into the spider verse #discussion #peter b parker #spiderverse pavitr

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hainethehero · 1 month

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I have writer’s block so now I’m bugging you with my ideas.

Hear me out………

A Stucky fic where Steve & Bucky fooled around (or were together) pre-war. Things between them fade once Steve gets the serum. Steve thinks Bucky doesn’t find him pretty anymore, but reality is that Bucky isn’t in the right state of mind after Azzano.

Canon happens, life goes on, Bucky’s back and he’s recovering well. Steve & Nat spoke a lot about Steve’s love for Bucky and his insecurities, so she and the team devise a plan. Only their meddling goes terribly wrong.

Bucky thinks he’s going on a blind date. Steve thinks he’s going in a date with a knowing Bucky. He gets all pretty: soft natural makeup, beautifully styled hair, a sexy high-waisted pants suit—in royal blue as it compliments his smooth skin and helps him stand out in a crowd, according to Nat. Steve feels gorgeous, something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

He gets to the restaurant and finds Bucky, already eating, with some twink that looks shockingly familiar to the way Steve used to look (and what are the odds, right?). Bucky’s smiling and flirting and holding this guy’s hand! What the hell? Why the hell would Bucky agree to a date with Steve if he already had someone?

Steve wants to confront Bucky, but he’s too hurt, too embarrassed. All that effort wasted. And he can’t believe he let Nat and the team talk him into this. He rushes home, angrily wipes off the makeup, fucks up his hair, rips the suit and falls into bed. Steve doesn’t speak to Bucky or the team anymore, outside of leading the missions.

But Bucky is confused. He had that blind date with the cute twink (who was actually just a fan of Sergeant Barnes and approached him for an autograph), but had ultimately decided that he wanted nothing further. The kid looked too much like Steve, and if he can’t have the original, he’s definitely not going for a copy. But now Steve is avoiding him and he doesn’t know why. Or why Steve is being short with the team. He won’t hangout with anyone except Sam, he barely looks Bucky in the eye, he moves away when Bucky tries to touch him. What the hell happened?

Angst, a huge misunderstanding, and more insecurities for our poor Stevie. 🥺

Omg the angst is just too good in this one!

And what makes it worse is that Natasha thinks things didn't work out between them and that's why Bucky and Steve aren't talking. So what does she decide to do? Just leave it and not meddle anymore to try and see if they could make up on their own.

The only problem with this is that they don't make up, because Steve's still avoiding them all. Sam tries to ask him what's going on but he tells Sam he just doesn't want to talk about it.

Steve gets in his head, stops eating, stops drinking much of anything. He exercises everyday and drives himself to the brink trying to get smaller somehow. Then some stupid villain convinces him that he can take all of Steve's insecurities away by taking the serum away. Steve- very much messed up from his hurt- agrees to it. (Kind of like when Rogue went to the scientists to be normal again so she could be with Bobby).

Bucky finally has a talk with Natasha and she reveals the plan all along. He realizes that Steve must've seen him with the fan and feels absolutely horrible for making his boy feel that way. He goes to find Steve and instead finds a letter from Steve, apologizing for changing himself and that he could be good for Bucky again.

(Or he doesn't leave a letter and Bucky has to scratch and claw his way to Steve before he goes through with the experiment.)

#steve rogers #stucky #stucky headcanon

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lucem-stellarum · 6 months

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Spoilers for the Summit pt 3, and under the cut for length

Damn, and I was so convinced it was actually Alexis too.

William, this was not the time or method to let Vincent learn about the murkier parts of your morality. You could have explained it when you told him he had to run the Summit alone. You were just worried that Vincent wouldn't play along if he knew, and you know what? You'd have been right. Everyone makes mistakes when parenting, but I love-hate to see it here. I love the repeated emphasis that William does love Vincent, because that makes it hurt even worse. There's a specific kind of pain with the growth and realization that your parents are people, with real flaws and that make real mistakes.

I'm not saying that Vincent is perfect, either. Porter was right that he was sheltered about it, but Vincent let himself be sheltered as well. Sam, Fred, and Bright Eyes (yes their storyline was scrubbed from the official canon, but then why does Sam get to make it personal about Quinn's actions on Halloween in their little extrajudicial confrontation? I'm getting off topic. Anyway) all had terrible experiences with other vamps, Adam was in the same clan and we all know how messed up he was. Vincent himself experienced how easy it is to push humans to a sort of second class citizen where it didn't matter if he hurt them or overrode their boundaries since he could just wipe memories and it was for his own survival. Why wouldn't other vamps develop that same sort of moral numbness to other people's pain and suffering? It only takes one remorseless vampire monarch for every single one of them to have to resort to those tactics to protect their own regardless of their own personal feelings about violence. Sort of the "carry a bigger stick" mentality that's ridiculously difficult to deescalate (and that's with the benefit of having human generational divides. with immortal vampires everything is personal).

I do wish that Lovely got to interject a little bit more about all of this. The Bennetts were mainly killed for their part in the Inversion. The Inversion which, just so it's stated for the official record, had a pretty big impact on our vampire listener character. Porter says to ask the Shaw pack if the Bennetts deserved to die, but Lovely was right there. I'm hoping there's a follow up with them and Vincent afterwards where they get to say their piece to him, and maybe it will help Vincent understand why William decided that they had to die. They might have better luck once the shock has worn off a bit, had time to settle in. In universe it's only been, what, 2-3 hours since the start of the Summit? I'm giving Vincent a lot of grief, but as a character he's a lot closer to the stress of it all both physically and temporally. The Summit is his duty, therefore (if William has taught him anything about taking responsibility) the Bennett's deaths are also his fault because it happened under his supervision when (in his mind) he was supposed to make everyone "play nicely together" for the evening. He didn't stop it, therefore it's his fault, and he's made it very clear how he feels about causing violence/death.

Speaking of Lovely being oddly quiet, there wasn't a whole lot about Sam being mentioned either. Alexis got brought up, because obviously she would when talking about the amoral and bloodthirsty side of the clan. I think Sam's going to be more pragmatic than Vincent is with all of this, but I can't decide how far he's willing to go about it. Thoughts?

Was anyone else inspired or intrigued by Porter saying that "William always does the right thing"? I was listening (with headphones) out in public before driving home, so the exact wording might be different, but that sounds like there's an interesting story there.

I don't want to have the reputation of someone who just hates on Porter, because damn it I ought to like him more. His character hits so many notes that I like to see. Vincent calling him William's weapon and attack dog? I love watching that kind of relationship and devotion. I've shipped it before, and I will again (though I have to say, that would make Porter's relationship with Vincent so much worse. I kinda want to see the trainwreck of the evil step father). His gray morality, his intelligence, his quick wit, his deft manipulation of people? I can enjoy and envy all of it. But damn his hypocrisy, inconsistency, and that fight is just infuriating. "I can't hold it against you that you act sheltered because you've been sheltered your whole afterlife". Bullshit, Porter, you absolutely did blame Vincent for being sheltered and that's one of the reasons you got in that fight with Vincent in the first place. Porter might not be actively lying to us here, but he's certainly not being truthful. I've already gone through and found quotes to prove it before here. Adding on to the linked post, the way Vincent and Porter are talking to discuss Porter's joining of the clan and how William treated him sounds a whole heck of a lot like Porter joined the Solaires before Vincent did, which only further supports my points there. Ughhh I was in the middle of researching for a different analysis post for other characters; I don't want to be distracted by writing up what I think their fight should have been about. It's almost worse that I don't like him because I keep thinking about how much I should like him and what it would take for me to support him wholeheartedly, flaws and all.

To cap it all off, this subplot has been wonderful so far. I'm happy that someone spelled out all the dirty little secrets for Vincent/Lovely/Us, because my head was starting to spin keeping everything straight and digging up the tiniest insinuations and turning into the Pepe Silvia meme. I know it's not over yet, but I think the evening is starting to wind down for the characters and I'm so glad that it is because the stress and intensity of it all is killing me. I know that this is probably the starting point for more developments later (what is Sweetheart gonna do after all of this in their official department capacity? is any of this going to put David in a rough spot politically? though Sam and Darlin ran into Alexis they didn't really get the chance to weigh in on the whole, y'know, state-sanctioned double murder? where are we going with that little teaser about Quinn having friends in high places? where's Treasure in all of this? Porter's ominous words about Close Knit planning another Inversion-level event??) I'm hoping there's gonna be a bit of a breather. Kudos Mr. Redacted, and thank you.

#redacted asmr #redacted monarchal summit #redacted vincent #redacted william #redacted porter #redacted lovely #redacted sam #redacted solaire clan #redacted spoilers #i was thinking my thoughts and came up with this #yeah I am a wordy bitch #I have a lot of things to say and so many opinions to share #ngl I was planning on writing that Porter 'what if it went different' anyways #but I need time to make sure it's compliant with enough of canon to be as plausible as possible #except for where I'm specifically ignoring what I don't like about the reasons for the fight

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neptnszn · 7 days

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Gojo Satoru isn't cut out for stable and long lasting relationships.

Intimacy is an even bigger stranger to him, yet one where he actively keeps his head down low each time he passes it on the street.

He despises intimacy’s hugs. its overgrown nails would dig into his skin each time they made contact, yet as soon as intimacy pulls away, he's back to square one again. it's both frustrating and pitiful.

It explains so much and yet that alone isn't enough.

It's not enough to fill the hole of loneliness that someone left behind.

No, that's not right. it was always there. Satoru was always alone. ever the anomaly, he was deemed the strongest for as long as he can remember. born into wealth and power—unmatched power—naturally meant that relating to others would propose a challenge if even possible.

he just couldn't relate to anyone who wasn't on par with him..which was practically everybody. even his fellow upper and underclassmen.

apart from one.

Satoru is positive that suguru was the best thing that happened to him so far, while being the worst all the same.

he felt seen without the emotional complications. he didn't need to utter a word to suguru in order to feel understood. getting away and simply being a kid with your best friend is one of the things his soul longs for. with him, Satoru truly got a taste of intimacy.

the sorcerer often questions whether what they had was true love when he's on his own. the unspoken trust, the times where suguru actually accepted satoru's clingy behaviour instead of shoving him away; moments where suguru looked out for him. his pale brows would furrow in deep thought when he noticed how blurred the line between friendship and love was. Upon hearing two girls gossiping in a café, however, his perspective on the thought quickly broadened.

he's often heard of the notion that twin flames really do exist, but he's always never paid any mind to it. rather difficult when the fate of Japan is on your shoulders at times.

when compared to the fact that literal manifestations of negative emotions exist to kill and harm people—the idea doesn't seem too far fetched.

he googles the term one night for a better understanding, wincing when the bright light blinds his eyes in the darkness.

he lazily scrolls through the intro of a magazine, crystalline eyes skimming each word until—

‘..also referred to as mirror souls. it promotes the idea of a powerful spiritual connection between two individuals thought to be two halves of the same whole.’

his eyebrows twitch upwards. of course. suguru being his twin flame made so much sense—he was like the yin to his yang.

it was almost scary. the two of them were the hottest flames of the bunch, it was no wonder master tengen selected them to carry out a high stakes mission.

..but then Satoru wonders if his flame burned a bit too bright.

in hindsight, everything went wrong from the moment they split up in the school courtyard. that dark haired brute messed everything up. the assimilation failed and kuroi didn't make it. poor woman—she just wanted to experience her final moments with amanai before leaving her for good. gojo satoru himself got a lick of defeat and found that he hated the taste.

after his awakening, he was separated from suguru. not out of spite, he's sure, but because it was around that time that jujitsu society saw him as the strongest alone. learning reversed cursed technique on your deathbed and defeating whoever the hell that ex-Zen'in clan member was is quite the feat after all.

his first mission on his own after that felt..different, already missing his voice of reason over his shoulder.

Satoru kicks himself for not pressing further about suguru's constant absence in his third year. he saw that he wasn't doing well, skinner, darker eye bags—he had the signs right in front of him, covered by some weak excuse that had something to do with the summer or something.

but he didn't follow up.

he didn't notice that something was terribly wrong with his best friend.

he didn't notice that his flame was dwindling until the candle sanctuary around him felt abnormally cold.

Satoru doesn’t think he ever really recovered from the bomb that Yaga dropped on him after Suguru went MIA.

How are you supposed to react when your best friend goes missing for days and find out that he murdered a whole damn village?

denial.

There was just no way. not with his ‘survival of the weakest’ mentality that Satoru grew to hate.

but even he wouldn't go out and murder a hundred people in cold blood.

The confrontation made satoru feel even worse. every word that came out of geto's mouth made his pulse quicken as he tried to reason with his best friend—his amber eyes suddenly so unfamiliar.

the moment was akin to satoru so desperately striking the matchbox to relight his best friend's candle.

except the match would not light.

suguru had already made his mind up, and he was literally going to kill all non-socerers. his arms dropped to his sides as he remembers watching his figure disappear in the crowd.

Are you the strongest because you're gojo satoru? or are you gojo satoru because you're the strongest?

He turns over in his bed. Damn it, Suguru.

Hearing those words after everything really warped the perspective he had on himself. Who even was he outside of his strength? Gojo Satoru.

But who even is that?

even after a decade he can't seem to win any of the arguments he has with his own mind.

he closes his eyes with a heavy heart and let's himself sink into the mattress as he massages his achy jaw. He probably outdid himself with the smiling work today, he needed to make an extra effort so that nobody would ask him—to avoid any complications.

But he's Gojo Satoru, evading difficult situations is basically his forte.

especially when it comes to his emotions.

ah well, he shrugs to himself. what can you do when you're born and raised in a society where feelings aren't considered. The cold and bitter ways of the higher-ups never failed to leave the bitterest taste in his mouth with every fuck-ass decision they made.

Yet each time the urge to slaughter ever sorcerer in societal power in cold blood itched at his skin, he had to slap it off. it wouldn't change a damn thing and would start at ground zero when they would get replaced. Worse, the heirs would probably have keen eyes on satoru.

Or maybe not. he had more than enough potential to make it look like an accident.

So at the moment it was up to him to teach the new age about cursed energy, without the barriers of cowardice instilled by those currently in power. Then, he'd be able to change jujitsu society for good, maybe even have somebody as strong as him to guide the new generations of sorcerers to yet another peak of jujtusu.

Maybe do all of his fallen allies justice.

Do Suguru justice.

Until then, he would just have to keep on burning on his own, and hope to whatever power above (if there is one) that the wax of his candle doesn't go out before that happens.

Because Satoru is tired.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk angst #gojo satoru #gojo angst #🪩 — diamond tears.#★—NEPTNSZN #gogo saturo ☆

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songbirdblues · 2 months

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theres much to be said about the woobification of tim drake as a character entirely in fanon, but one thing in particular that tends to irk me is the misinterpretation of this scene.

now, i generally dont have a problem with fanon interprets of events like this!!! in fact, im an avid fanfic reader and i can honestly say i dont mind when comic events get squashed or stretched out of proportion. people want angst and fluff, and hurt and comfort, and i can respect that a lot of dc fans get their info from fanon and dont bother/simply dont want to read comics because they lack those feel-good moments/that emotional depth that fanfics have. thats fine, thats none of my business, and thats perfectly valid!

...but i think it does get to a point where a comic is SO misinterpreted, like this one (or just this series in general, really), that it loses all that makes it good and interesting in the first place.

dick isn't a bad guy here. whether you think what he said was warranted or not, or if you think him saying that he thinks tim should seek help is insensitive or wrong, he's not some evil abusive guy who hates tim (tim literally calls him his brother in the scene???? in a positive context??)

i just see a lot of people think dick is some terrible villain for this event (and for the "firing and replacing tim just so damian can be robin for no reason" thing which is also a misinterpretation of what happened, but thats something else). when in reality dick himself is already struggling to keep his family from falling apart even more than it already has, has been forced to become batman, and has to raise this random, murderous kid that just popped into his life (i love damian but bro was giving dick gray hairs in his twenties in the beginning lol), all while dealing with the loss of his father for the second time in his life. on top of this, to him, his 16 year old brother is off doing god knows what across europe going on a wild goose chase looking for their (presumably) dead father and doesnt know what to do about it.

but despite all that, in tims eyes, dick massively messed up. we know he thinks this by what he says in the comic.

which leads me to my last point; tims own thoughts. this is a bit more of my opinion on tims character rather than objective fact so bear with me. tims internal monologue and emotional journey across red robin are why i think this series is so heavily (sorry to keep using this word) misinterpreted by fanon.

throughout the course of the story, tim is being forced to suffer with a grief that that he doesnt know how to deal with. like dick, this is the second father tim has lost. but the difference between them is that when tim experiences loss he... doesnt really know how to deal with it, like at all. he goes crazy when he loses someone close to him. at least dick can kinda sorta keep it together. after jack died and bruce tried to adopt him, tim literally hired a man to pretend to be his uncle to avoid it. when kon died, he tried to clone him 99 whole times with old luthor tech, (and later when damian died, tim hallucinated hugging him, or at the very least pretended to, which while a lot tamer than these other instances i still think it speaks to how deeply he feels these losses and how badly he handles it). i dont know the specifics of how he acted about other people hes lost like bart, stephanie, and his mom, but tim even says himself that part of the reason why he's doing all this is because of how many people he's lost, so it can be assumed he reacted harshly to their passing, too.

tim also admits, multiple times throughout red robin, that he knows he sounds/acts crazy, he admits that he goes farther than he ever went as robin when dealing with criminals and cases because as red robin he's now "tainted" and agrees with connor in a later issue that "red robin" is his punishment for himself.

so what i mean by all this is that, simply put, tim is an unreliable narrator. of course we as the readers feel angry at dick and cassie, tim himself is angry at them. he feels hurt and betrayed, and it could even be assumed at that point that he feels they abandoned him, and he thinks that they think hes crazy. he isolates himself from everyone, he feels unworthy of everything, and he "knows" hes lost it. "except for everything, im perfectly fine." is a quote he says, and there are plenty more like it in the series.

my point is that in tims eyes for the majority of his character arc as red robin, nearly everyone hes ever loved has either died or abandoned him, but as the audience we know thats not the case. cassie loves him, dick of course loves him, they just both made mistakes and hurt him, but that doesnt make either of them irredeemable or mean that they dont care about tim. tim himself, in that moment, just doesnt believe that, or doesnt even seem to consider that. he sees the bad, and blinded by his own grief and anger, doesnt see the good.

i just think a lot of people miss that, and just write dick off as borderline abusive or purposefully hurtful in red robin fanfics, because comics tend to get telephoned so much in the fandom that thats what people see him as, when it's not the case, which is how we got the "dick threatens to send tim to arkham" thing. (but thats just gonna happen i guess. did you know that in the actual jasons attack on titans tower comic jason wears his robin costume?? yeesh i'll have to stick with fanon on their interpretation of that whole thing. see its not bad all the time)

besides the idea of the whole arkham trope thing, theres still plenty of canon angst to pull from in red robin! you can write about how tim thinks hes losing it, ra's weird infatuation with tim and everything that comes with that, tim being forced to deal with losing robin, tims rocky relationship with tam fox, tims super rocky relationship with damian, any interaction between kon and tim, OH. the fact that at one point tim got kicked out of a tall building and accepted his death (only thinking about how bruce would be proud), only to be saved by dick last minute and then lying about knowing dick would save him (yeah right buddy) ((its issue #12)). theres also the idea of bruce and tim talking after tim finds him (canon bruce hug!!!). and theres more im forgetting for sure. all that to say theres plenty of ideas already there for the taking!!!!! red robin is a great comic filled with plenty of emotional moments.

moral of the story, dick isn't a terrible person, tim needs help but he isn't a little baby incapable of doing anything, and i believe writing them differently in the context of red robin (2009) is a disservice to their characters and their relationships with each other in the actual comic.

...but i mean, im not your dad. write what you want

#dc comics #tim drake #dick grayson #red robin #batman #nightwing #bruce wayne #rant #omg please dont kill me for this #also i did not mean to practically write an essay oops #this isnt directed at any fan work in particular btw #its just something ive noticed

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