#because i'm Like That

[tattedmariposa]

fare you well, my new old friend. may you find what it is you seek.

[fallen-angel-adam-frankenstein]

Are you a normal fucking human being or do you also ship the Fryderyk Chopin-George Sand-Franz Liszt-Marie d'Agoult polycule?

[wren-of-the-woods]

It's Just Like Falling Snow (I am Above You, and I Love You)

Another fic for @finishwhatyoustarted-event! This one is set just after Rogue One and is a sort of happy epilogue to the events of the film. CW for the aftermath of character death (from the dead character's PoV).

Rated G, 1.2k, on AO3 here.

~

Cassian dies. 

The warm, blinding light of a planet’s destruction envelops him and he feels only a second of pain before he knows he is gone, his body vaporized and his soul left floating in the ether. 

It is a relief, at first. The pain and ache and adrenaline that filled his body drain away into nothing. For a moment, he feels calmer than he has in days or even perhaps years. He can sense the force around him, feel it in a way he’s never felt it before, a way he never thought possible, and he spares a moment to think that if the Jedi felt it like this, suffusing their very beings with warmth, perhaps it is understandable that they were capable of so very much.

But as his pain fades, so does the sensation of Jyn’s arms around him. Her touch disappears into the mist of recollection and, for a moment, the ache in his soul almost surpasses the pain that had been in his body. He is alone again. There is no one. He would have thought that after all this time he’d have become used to the loss, used to the loneliness, but it would seem that he’s not the hardened criminal he pretends to be. It hurts.

Then—

It feels like an embrace, like a part of the warm force that surrounds him but more intense, more vital and filled with something that Cassian realizes, after a startled moment, is love. It feels like arms embracing him. It feels familiar, like protection from cold and the smell of metal and the well-known ringing of the anvil. It feels like—

“Maarva?” Cassian whispers, and it shouldn’t be possible because he doesn’t have lips or a tongue or lungs anymore, but something must have worked because he hears, wrapping itself around him like a blanket, a response. 

“Cassian,” she says, and it feels like a hole in Cassian’s heart that had been long ignored but never filled begins to close. 

Cassian can’t get choked up anymore, can’t cry, but the feeling is still there and it must have been communicated somehow because he feels the warmth around him strengthen like arms tightening their hold.

“I’m so proud of you,” says Maarva, and Cassian gasps a shuddering breath with lungs that don’t exist. 

He tries to speak but fails, trailing off into a wounded sound of pure feeling. 

“I am,” says Maarva. “You did it. Cassian, you did it. You found the plans. You saved people. You’re a hero, Cassian, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

“I failed so many times,” he whispers. “I did so many things I’m not proud of.”

“But you persevered,” says Maarva. “You kept going, and you triumphed, Cassian. The legacy of your victory will endure when the remnants of your failures have crumbled into dust.”

Cassian does not know how to respond to that, so he says nothing, simply letting himself exist in the vicinity of the woman he has missed for so long. 

And then a familiar presence appears behind him, and Cassian knows without looking that Clem is here. 

“I missed you,” Cassian whispers. He feels a sensation that resembles, more than anything, a hand on his shoulder. 

“I was proud to give you my name,” Clem says, and Cassian chokes out a laugh. 

“It was just a code,” he says.

“I know,” says Clem. “I’m still proud.”

Another voice chimes in, young and painfully familiar. It’s a voice he’s heard over and over again, in person and in a recording and in his memory.

“That was incredible, Cassian,” says Nemik. “Absolutely incredible. You’ve topped Aldhani. I always knew you were a revolutionary at heart.”

“You inspired me,” Cassian manages, and somehow, though none of them have bodies, he knows that Nemik is smiling. 

And then, in a language that Cassian hasn’t heard spoken in years and yet that is as familiar as his own hands and his own tongue, speak two more voices. 

“Kassa,” they say, and if he could, Cassian would be dropping to his knees.

“Mom? Dad?” he asks. Those words were the first he learned to say, and remembering them feels like freedom. 

“Yes,” they say.

“You’re not alone,” they say. “We’re not alone.”  

Suddenly, Cassian knows they’re right. He can feel his people all around him, can feel his sister, their presences as familiar as the wet forest air of his long-lost home.

“We’re proud of you, Kassa,” they are saying. “You did well. You helped us, you remembered us, you avenged us, and we’re proud of you. We love you, son of Kenari.”

If Cassian had still possessed a body, he thinks he would be crying. As it is, he simply basks in the relief of the pain and loneliness he has carried with him for so long and the joy of being, finally, in the presence of his whole family. 

Your father would have been proud of you, Jyn, he had said, there on the beach with her in his arms, and with the ease of long practice he had ignored the thoughts of his own father— fathers, really, and mothers and sisters and even brothers — and yet now here they are, here beyond his wildest dreams. They are here, they love him, and they are proud. 

It is more than he could have asked for. It is, quite possibly, more than he deserves. The thought does not bother him nearly as much as it might once have; he is far too happy to finally be here, among his family. 

Beside him, he feels Bodhi, startled and a bit regretful yet triumphant. He feels Baze and Chirrut, hand in hand. He feels Melshi, sad but so damn proud. He even feels, beyond his wildest dreams, the presence of Kay at his side.

He feels that they have won, though he did not live to see the victory. He feels that they saved people. He feels that what they did was worth it all.

And then, suddenly, slotting in beside him like the final piece of the puzzle that was Cassian’s life, Jyn is there. She is warm in the force beside them, bright like the stardust she is named for. She is radiant. He thinks that if she could, she would be taking his hand. 

“We did it,” she says quietly. She sounds far more at peace than he ever heard her in life. She sounds happy.

“We did,” says Cassian. “We really did.”

Slowly, gently, he feels an invisible force tugging him forward, towards his family and an ever-growing light. It does not feel forceful or cold as he might once have imagined it; the feeling is soft and tender, a request more than a command. 

“Come with us,” say his family. 

Cassian is warm. He is surrounded by more love than he has ever known. 

“We will be with you,” they say. “You are not alone.”

Perhaps for the first time since he was a child, Cassian believes them wholeheartedly.

Around him, his friends — his family — are present and triumphant. Jyn’s presence is solid beside him. He tries to squeeze her hand with a body that no longer exists, and feels a sensation resembling an answering squeeze in return.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says softly, “I am.”

And, together with his family, Cassian steps into the light.

[icescrabblerjerky]

Been playing a little of the critically acclaimed MMPORPGER FFXIV.

[faeriekit]

"This fic was ai generated—" Cool, so lemme block you real quick

[lazylittledragon]

can't believe we're all adults being forced into the club penguin level of censorship in 2024

[ducktracy]

sharing a very sage bit of advice from The Simpsons' own John Swartzwelder that i've been trying to hamper down in my writing and drawing alike. let your inner crappy little elf do his worst

[lgbtlunaverse]

The world exists in such a baffling state of simultaneous sex-aversion and sex-hegemony. Every social platform on the internet is trying to banish sex workers to the shadow realm but I can't post a tweet without at least two bots replying P U S S Y I N B I O. People are self-censoring sex to seggs and $3× but every other ad you see is still filled with half-naked women. Rightwingers want queer people arrested for so much as existing in the same postal code as a child and are also drumming up a moral panic about how teenage boys aren't getting laid enough. I feel like I'm losing my mind.

[kottkrig]

People liking your personal OCs is still such a crazy feeling, I've been doing this for years and ppl asking about them still fills my entire heart with warmth and idk how to handle it

You enjoy this fictional guy I made up for fun?? Whose only content is random artwork or writing made by me and a handful of other artists at most? They have no show/book/game with a large fandom, it's just one person with an art blog?? I love u

[official-lucifers-child]

still thinking about the brainrot that fast fashion has caused in people, like i made this pair of pants that are black and white with a cool flowery design, and an acquaintance saw them and said "wow i'd pay like 20 dollars for you to make me a pair" and i could barely think with how utterly horrified i was at that; i told them that 20 dollars wouldn't even cover the materials, let alone the hours of work that went into cutting, sewing, ironing, hemming, altering, etc. they just had this look on their face when i told them that, when i said i wouldn't make them a pair for even 100 dollars because that was still way too low of an amount, a look that said "you're crazy for thinking that those cost 100 dollars" and maybe i am crazy but holy shit, 20 dollars for a pair of handmade, durable, lined pants fitted specifically to your measurements? 20 dollars for upwards of 60 hours of work? 20 dollars for several yards of high-quality fabric, thread, and buttons? 20 dollars???

[marypsue]

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

[dr11ft]

chicana miku 🤎

[ardri-na-bpiteog]

Also increasingly aware that a LOT of people "manage" getting through the 40+ hour work week by sleeping less than is healthy and relying on stimulants like coffee and energy drinks to keep them going.

For people who are unwilling or unable to do this...work really does just dominate your life. Like we really should not have to rely on unhealthy practices just to have a social life or keep on top of housework or whatever.

I know I post about this a lot but I'm so TIRED all the time and it's just so depressing that this is how we're expected to spend the one life we have.

[captainkirkk]

At least once a month I remember that Ozai ruled for ~3 years. That's shorter than one presidential term. That's nothing. In comparison Zuko - who suffered so much cruelty and was made to feel worthless under Ozai - ruled for ALMOST 70 YEARS. That's more than 22 times the length of Ozai's rule - and he will go down in history as one of the most influential and well loved Fire Lords of all time

[magentasnail]

I'm absolutely obsessed with the book of bill, best thing i've ever read and it no joke gave me actual nightmares !! 100/10

[artistic-cocoon]

Saw someone on twt say they wanted to see Percy drawn like Yusuf Dikec and I couldn't help myself