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#i still wanna write them tho
jonny-b-meowborn · 2 years
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Not to be a fucked up little freak but recently I started writing a short story in second person in future tense and it's about a lighthouse and her keeper
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choccy-milky · 2 months
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congrats on baby #2!🥰👍 part 2 to this post bc seb is a smug ass bitch when it comes to getting clora pregnant. and ty @rednite-dork for sending me the original pic ages ago LMFAO... i knew as soon as i saw it that i had to redraw it eventually 👼
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cheswirls · 2 months
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short asl thing based on @where-does-the-heart-lie's modern au :) i started this over a year ago but the beginning is all dialogue and felt more like a script to me i suppose??? which deflated my desire to work on it. anyway i checked it over recently and it's completely fine lmfao, self-confidence restored here we go !
-
"Yo. Aren't you usually in the middle of your shift by now?"
"I've been banned from the hospital."
"Like, for life?"
"No. For the next, uh.. Twenty-two hours."
"That's oddly specific."
"It was twenty-four, but I fell asleep after leaving the building."
"That wouldn't have to do with why they kicked you out, at all?"
"Hmmm. I'm too sleep-deprived, apparently."
"Ah. And, um, you called me because...?"
"I pressed a random number in my call log after waking up. Lucky you, I guess."
"Yeah. Right. Lucky me. And your car keys are...?"
"Confiscated."
"Ah, right, of course."
A beat of silence. Two. Three, then "Look, if you're busy, then–"
"No, no.  You called me, so I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."
"Alright. Thank–"
"Thank someone else. Also, if you fall asleep in my car, I'm taking it as express permission to drive you around wherever I want."
"Ugh, go die. I don't even know why I bothered."
"LUCKY YOU, I guess," sounds off way too loudly in his ear. "No take backs. See you in ten."
"I thought you said–" Sabo breaks off as the call ends, leaving him staring blankly at his phone's too-dim screen. He squints, turns the brightness all the way up, and still squints as the sunlight proves too strong for the display.
Ace shows up in more than ten but decidedly less than twenty minutes. Sabo doesn't waste much brain power on it, only climbing into the passenger seat and yawning into his palm while his other hand fixes the seatbelt into the buckle. Not a second too soon, too, as Ace roars the engine to life and peels away from the curb at record speed.
Ace fiddles with the radio. He turns the music up, then dial it back down to inaudible. They hit the expressway and he leans over the steering wheel, frowning with his eyes fixed on the road far ahead. Sabo yawns again and this appears to be the limit to his patience. 
"Hey, so, I had a thought after you hung up on me."
Sabo grimaces. "You mean you–"
"Today's Wednesday."
He doesn't elaborate. Sabo is too tired to process. "Yes," he follows, after a second. He glances at the sky out the front window. "What time is it?"
"Oh, uh." Ace fumbles with hand placement so he can lift his watch to his face. "Nine forty."
Sabo takes a couple beats to try and process this, moves his eyes away from the skyline, and sighs as he pulls his phone out. 2:47 is what the display reads, which sounds much more believable.
"How did the minute hand get off?" he mutters to himself, chancing a look at Ace's busted wristwatch. Ace raises a brow, taking his gaze off the road to scrutinize Sabo. "No, it doesn't matter," he mutters to himself once more, sliding his phone away back on his person and out of his hands.
"My point is," Ace continues, like he hasn't just been interrupted by a whole thing. "Your timeout will be done midday Thursday. Did they switch your days off?"
"No." Sabo sighs. "They technically gave me the next thirty-six hours. Technically closer to forty. Something like that. I go back in on Friday. Sometime.” He tries to smile and it turns out very lopsided, from that he can make out in the rearview mirror. “Can you tell I’m tired?”
“I don’t think ‘tired’ is an accurate description,” Ace quips. “When did you eat a proper meal last?”
“Uh, yesterday. Maybe.”
“Maybe??”
“A ‘proper meal’ means different things to the two of us,” Sabo huffs. “On my account it was yesterday. I’ve had food since then, of course.”
“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Ace announces before absolutely whipping it around a curve. Sabo is his passenger in the passenger seat and had fully prepared to be so when he got in the vehicle, but he’d been vastly underprepared for this sudden course of action, which is how he ends up halfway out of his seat with his cheek slammed into the cold window. Ace doesn’t quite notice his brother’s terminal velocity until the car is once again on the straight and narrow, and only then it’s because of the audible thunk Sabo’s face makes when it collides with the glass.
“Aw shit. You good bro?”
“Ow,” Sabo mutters. “If I have broken bones I’m suing your ass.”
“Well, if you’re good enough to make jokes, I think you’re better than you’re letting on.” Ace keeps the wheel steady with one knee while he takes both hands away to crack his fingers. When he glances over at Sabo again, he looks even more pathetic – like he’s becoming one with the glass. “Anyway, as I was saying.
“I’m taking your ass home. You’re going straight to sleep and while you crash, I’ll make you something decent to eat and stick it in the fridge for you to heat up later. I’ll even make you two servings to eat two different times, since you clearly can’t be trusted to take care of yourself correctly.”
“Ouch.”
“I want you to conk out for as long as your body allows. We can reset your sleep schedule tomorrow, alright? Put your phone on silent; do not answer any calls. In fact, you know what, just give it to me.
Sabo glances over to see Ace’s hand held out to him, palm up. Fingers wiggling expectantly. His lips pull up into a grimace. “I’m not doing that.”
“Fine.” Ace takes his hand back. “But you will comply with everything else.”
“Wow! It’s so funny, I didn’t realize you turned into my mother overnight! Really tapped into your mom potential, huh? Anything exciting happen in your life that would cause that? I guess I wouldn’t know, since I’ve been a zombie for the past two days.”
“There’s nothing wrong with acting like your older brother, you dipshit, especially if you keep putting yourself through the wringer like this. You go home. You sleep. You wake up and eat. You go back to sleep. Then we do laundry. Does that sound agreeable?”
“That’s negotiable, at the least,” Sabo mumbles. “I will accept good food as a form of bribery.”
“Oh, nice, because I’m flat broke at the moment.”
Sabo makes a mental note of that, and then they’re pulling into the driveway. Ace lets him exit the vehicle by himself and then promptly manhandles him all the way onto the couch where it will be easier to force his body to relax than in a real bed. Ace knows this, so he calls him weird before chucking a loose blanket at his head. Sabo is almost too tired to function at this point, so he lets Ace have the last laugh in favor of finally closing his eyes.
Coming to is a surreal experience, especially since the sun is still out. He must make a noise because Ace is suddenly within view. His limbs are tangled in the blanket and still so heavy that he doesn’t bother moving. “Thought you would be gone,” he half-groans, eyes slipping shut again for a moment.
“I did leave,” Ace confirms. “I had to go pilfer some stuff to make stew with. It’s almost done, so I’ll hang here until then.”
Pilfer. That could mean any number of things. Sabo chooses to believe in the option where Ace is an upstanding citizen, and then remembers Ace saying earlier that he had no money. He frowns and squirms on the cushions enough to where it looks like he’s checking his pockets. “Where’s my wallet, Ace?” he bluffs.
“Somewhere around here,” Ace pipes up. “Your stomach will thank you for your contributions to the Portgas Household’s pantry!”
“Ugh, I got robbed,” he complains. “This sucks. ‘m going back to sleep.” He rolls over so his back is to Ace.
“Yeah, you do you, bro. Stew will still be here later. I’ll see you when you’re back in the world of the living.”
Luffy comes in late that night and slams the front door shut as loud as humanly possible. When he appears in the main room, he doesn’t seem to be upset, so Ace writes it off as a Luffyism. Sabo hasn’t stirred at the noise, so it’s all good.
Realizing this, Luffy pads closer to Ace’s side and looks at Sabo’s unmoving body warily. “Why is Sabo passed out like a corpse? Is he sick?”
“No, he’s not sick, he just can’t take care of himself. Which is why we are going to let him sleep for as long as possible.”
Luffy just nods to this, but it’s the uncomprehending Luffy-nod that means he’s just going to end up doing whatever he wants to regardless. Ace sighs, then jerks his head towards the kitchen. “He ate a little earlier, but I want him to eat again when he wakes up. There’s stew in the fridge if you want it – just leave him a little. Got it, Monkey D. Luffy?”
Luffy throws him a salute and then runs off in his socks. “Yippee! Ace made stew!”
“Think of your brother, Luffy, and make good choices!” Ace calls after him. “He’s a pathetic man who needs food to feel better or he’ll end up sleeping through Laundry Day!”
Sabo does not sleep through laundry day, but he does sleep for sixteen whole hours, so it’s just around noon when he forces himself up off the couch and into a warm shower.
Ace is around, which is mildly unexpected. But he’s still half-asleep, so everything is at least a little unexpected. He glances up from playing video games with Luffy to see Sabo leaving the steam-filled bathroom with his hair hanging around his shoulders. “You look like a wet cat,” he calls.
“Sabo’s awake!” Luffy cheers. “Ace thought you died at one point.”
Ace elbows Luffy in the gut, making him hunch over. “I did not!”
“He totally checked to see if your heart was still beating!”
“I’m undead, actually,” Sabo says completely seriously.
“Does that mean you don’t need to eat anymore?” Luffy questions. “Because I ate all the stew last night.”
“I saw that coming and made extra.” Ace finger-guns in Sabo’s general direction. “That’s why I bought two sets of ingredients. With your money!”
“With my money,” Sabo echoes, because it’s such a wild statement to have to deal with this early in the day. Well, early for him. “Fuck you.”
“I mean, I can tell Luffy where I hid–”
“Thank you, Ace, for agreeing to share your quarters with both of your brothers so we can all do laundry today on your dime!” Sabo raises his pitch so his voice is mockingly squeaky when he says this. He starts moving down the hall before Ace can start to argue, letting his and Luffy’s voices bleed into the background.
When he comes back out, now dressed, it smells significantly better than before. “I reheated the stew,” Ace announces, gesturing for Sabo to take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Let’s all have lunch before we head out.”
“You have to drink this too,” Luffy tells Sabo, sliding a Gatorade across the counter so it sets in front of him when he finally does take a seat. “Ace’s orders.”
“Gotta get those nutrients back somehow.”
“Aren’t we so considerate, Sabo?”
“Do you even know what ‘considerate’ means?” Sabo asks, lips quirking up into a half-smile. At Luffy’s shrug, it turns into a real smile. “Well, thanks anyway. Both of you.”
“No sweat. And look!” Ace brandishes a five dollar bill for both to see. “I found this baby for us to use on coins! It’s all on me today–”
“Where’s my wallet, Ace?!”
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slyzia · 3 months
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A Stop For A Drink
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Second art to this series! (Yes I’m making it a series I wanna draw more of them)
After drawing this part, I really wanted to write a fanfiction based off of this, I’m not a writer if at all but I’m so curious! Anyways they take a stop to get a drink and Gary just wants this to be done with already. (Probably because they’re still on their way to the location idk where I haven’t decided yet + they’re taking forever) It was a hot day too so he let it slide.
Days have been becoming colder for us southern hemisphere people so make sure you take care of yourself and warm up! As for the northern ones stay hydrated and enjoy your summer breaks! I forgot to say last post but happy pride month and I’ll catch you guys next time, smell ya later!
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neige-leblanche · 1 month
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the crazy thing abt "the literary canon is inaccessible" argument is that. it is quite literally some of the most accessible literature out there. depending on the format you prefer, famous books in the public domain are often available for free. if you're having trouble understanding a book, there are almost always discussion and literary guides that you can also find for free. if you genuinely still find old books too difficult but want to get into them, keep shopping around for authors and genres. if the topic interests you then you'll have more passion for a book and i guarantee you not all 100+y/o authors have confusing writing styles. and once you get into a groove it gets easier and easier, & more and more fun
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wikiangela · 3 months
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🦵🦵🥩🥩💔💔
hi, thanks for the ask!
🦵 - 6 sentences of the leg pain fic!
“I can see it in your face, Evan.” Tommy narrows his eyes. “What did we just talk about?” he sighs with a small eye roll, but it’s more fondly exasperated than anything else. Buck noticed by now how Tommy seems endeared even by the most annoying qualities of him, and it still amazes him. “How bad is it?” He repeats, voice soft and patient, just like he always is.
🥩 - 6 (or 7 lol) sentences of the barbecue fic
I'm introducing a couple ocs in this fic so any new names are just tommy's friends lol - also this video was the inspiration for this whole fic btw
 Buck’s mid-conversation with Karen and Alex, when he notices something in the corner of his eye, and his eyes are drawn to his boyfriend. Because Tommy, his gorgeous, hot, beautiful man, who’s currently standing at the grill and preparing food for everyone, decides it’d be a good idea to take off his t-shirt and tuck it into the back of his shorts. Buck’s mouth goes dry – he should be used to this sight by now, but every time it gets him like he’s seeing him for the first time ever. He stops paying attention to the conversation, already taking steps towards his boyfriend. “Hey, babe, you want a fresh beer?” Buck yells, ignoring the half-full bottle still in Tommy’s hand. Tommy looks down at the bottle, too, then at Buck, an amused smile on his face. “I’ll get you a fresh beer,” he decides, stepping into the house so quickly he nearly trips over his own feet.
💔 - 6 sentences of the cheating fic (reminder that they're not great people in this fic, and it's ooc, and idgaf haha)
It’s only when he wakes up, in Eddie’s bed, in Eddie’s clothes, with Eddie wrapped around him, that it hits him what he’s done. He’s really outdone himself this time, and he’s never felt shittier. Last night was amazing, of course it was, and it came with a new realization – that this thing with Eddie, this… this affair, or whatever the hell they’ve been doing, this isn’t just physical. How can it be? It’s Eddie. He should’ve realized earlier, after it happened that first, drunken night, and couldn’t bring himself to stop doing it again – in fact, he wanted it to happen, he couldn’t stop thinking about doing it again – despite having a girlfriend, who does not deserve this shit.
tagging others who were interested in some of these: @bidisasterevankinard @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @eddiebabygirldiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings
@hippolotamus @ladydorian05 @reformedplayerbibuck
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beanghostprincess · 8 months
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Okay you're making me obsessed with Sabosan- I'm in need to posts about them
Just an AU where they meet during childhood, like, Sabo and his parents go to Germa bc of some politic shit and he don't want to be there so he just walks around.
And be accident he finds Sanji outside the castle, crying, and he knows he is one of the princes since they were already presented to each other. But the boy is hurt and crying so much that Sabo can't not help him.
In the beggining Sanji is scared, but soon he notices the other blonde don't want to beat him like his brothers. They talk all the day and for the first time in Sanji's life, he feels like he made a friend.
When Sabo's family has to go back to Goa, both kids are sad but hope to meet again soon. After this, everything in Sanji's past happens (Sora's death, he being locked and running away).
Month's later, the nobles from Goa go again to Germa and Sabor receive the terrible news that Sanji is dead. This broke's his heart 'cause the boy was sweet and kind and even just being with each other during one day he was sure the prince was amazing.
Since Sanji were 8 and Sabo 9 during this, ge just meet Luffy one year later and all he can think sometimes is how much the two would love each other. But don't matter now, his friend is dead.
Everything happens, and years later he remember everything and all he can think is how he forget them? How he let other person he loves die? The boy is broke bc he lose another person.
And he is going to meet Luffy's crew, hearing his young brother talk about them when he says about a guy named Sanji and- Sabor freezes, he ask about him and this boy is identical to his dead friend- but can't be him, right...? He can't have hope.
When they arrive in the ship, he's knowing everyone and then he go to the kitchen with Luffy to meet said boy and- it's Sanji, alive. Breathing, older and so much beautiful.
And Sanji is looking at him too and- both are in shock. Luffy is there, confused and looking at the two. "Luffy, can I talk for a moment with your friend?" Sabo asks intenting to not show how he is emotional.
"Uh? You know each other?" Luffy ask but go outside the kitchen anyway, they still are silent during some minutes. Sanji is read to say something when Sabo hugs him.
"I thought you were dead" is all he says and the blackleg hugs him back, feeling bad for making Sabo think this.
Both don't say much, but they are happy they're together again.
Agh, you all know I am extremely weak for childhood AUs!!!!! This is beautiful :(
I can't stop thinking about Sanji obviously getting forced to meet Sabo, but he doesn't really want to because he always hates it when important people come over. Yes, his father is more distracted with them, but that leaves them a free day from training, and sometimes those are even worse than regular days. Because even if his brothers already make fun of him and beat him up when they train, whenever they're not doing anything it's even worse because they take their time and it's a complete nightmare. Besides, introducing himself with the name Vinsmoke has always made him want to throw up, even from a very early age, and there's this uneasy feeling inside of him whenever Judge speaks about him normally instead of saying how much of a disappointment he is. He prefers that rather than him lying to strangers because he knows what he says isn't true. He doesn't consider him his son, and he doesn't see him as his father either. It's nauseating.
When Sabo and Sanji get introduced along with the other Vinsmoke siblings, Sanji doesn't want to look up. He has to, of course, but he doesn't feel like being there at all. But he's even more scared of what might happen if he doesn't do what Judge says. When he looks up, he can tell that the kid in front of him doesn't want to be here either. He's good at pretending, though. He smiles politely and shakes their hands and it's obvious that he's been trained to act that way, but he doesn't look at all like a noble. He has a missing tooth and scratches in his hands and face and it's quite obvious that he tries to cover it (not him, his parents) but it isn't working for Sanji. Besides, there's this rage in his eyes that Sanji can't quite place but he knows something is going on with him. That just scares him even more, because, even if it's not the same rage his brothers have in their eyes, it's still rage. If he was a simple kid like all the others that have come to their kingdom with their families, Sanji would not be that worried, but he isn't. And Sanji fears the worst because he can't figure him out.
On the other hand, Sabo wants to jump off a bridge. He would rather drown than be here. Get the kid out of there!!!!!!!! He didn't want to come at all but his parents wouldn't stop pressuring him and tbh it was easier to end this quickly so he could go home even quicker (home being Gray Terminal and next to Ace, thank you very much). So he's on his best behavior so he can just quickly go back home. He hates them. The kids, he means. Rich, spoiled brats that are modified to be that way. To be selfish. To kill. It's disgusting and he despises how the father talks with so much pride about it. But- But he never, not even once, mentions the blond. He talks praise about all of his kids except him, but he also doesn't even mention him. Sabo can tell his name is Sanji because his brothers won't stop teasing him about stuff Sabo can't understand, but he knows enough to get that something's off. Whatever. Not his fight. Not his siblings. Not his responsibility.
But his sense of responsibility and morals are already strong enough to make him overly sensitive to this stuff, so he watches the behavior of the kids carefully. Their parents tell them to go do whatever because they're talking about "grown-up stuff" and they need to form "royal bonds for future needs" or whatever bullshit they keep making up. And, uh, Sabo fucking hates it. The kids are scary as fuck. Like, creepy. Type of thing he wishes Ace were with him for because this is way worse than the things they've seen happening at Gray Terminal. The way they speak about the staff and human lives is just disgusting. With no emotion in their voices other than plain selfishness and cruelty. They show Sabo around the castle and- And Sanji isn't around anywhere? Apparently? When he asks where he might be, that's when his brothers start trash-talking him. Calling him a coward. A weakling. Worse things Sabo does not want to repeat but- But it's just extremely fucked up. But again, not his fight. He can keep an eye on them but not intervene because he really, really wants to go home soon. And he's pretty sure this is just the way siblings talk about each other. Rich, noble siblings, at least. Even if Sanji seemed different, he's still one of them.
Sabo eventually gets bored of them, and also they're disgusting to be around. So he just disappears and hopes they don't give a fuck about him to look for him. That's when he finds Sanji crying outside of the castle. He really knows he shouldn't intervene. He never does when he goes to these meetings. But Sanji seems different. He's crying. These kids, in theory, should not be able to feel like this, right? There's just something so human about him, from the first second they saw each other, that Sabo can't help but want to protect him. He's not much older than him, but still. Sanji looks way weaker and shorter in comparison, and,, And in need of someone. Like he's always asking for help.
And so they talk. Sabo approaches him and the first thing Sanji does is flinching. He thinks Sabo is going to hit him, apparently? What the fuck. Sabo instantly kneels beside him to tell him that he is definitely not here for this, and why the hell would he even think that?? Sanji doesn't reply, of course, he just hugs his knees closer to his chest and looks away, hoping for Sabo to not ask more questions. But Sabo notices this glint of hope in his eyes that he doesn't want to show. Like begging for him to get him out of there. Sabo just sits beside him in a very nonchalant and very not noble way and starts talking. He tells Sanji how he doesn't want to be here either, and trash-talks his family and nobility and starts saying all of these things he only tells Ace about. He usually doesn't trust people so easily, and Ace would kill him for this, but Sanji needs this. And apparently, it doesn't bother him at all to give him this. Sanji starts opening up little by little, hope in his eyes and excitement starting to come out of his voice when they change subjects. Sanji, apparently, isn't like his siblings. In any way. And he likes cooking and sea creatures too! Sabo has a lot of stories to tell about those! And they keep talking and talking and hours pass and suddenly Sabo doesn't want to go home. It's not only fun to be here, but scary to leave if it means never seeing Sanji again and leaving him here. Especially when he tells him about everything his family does to him (because they end up talking about that) and he has to hold Sabo back from yelling because he has never been angrier in his entire fucking life. What the hell does this family think they are? Sanji doesn't deserve this. He's nice. Cute, too. Smart. Extremely sweet and empathetic. Selfless. Kindness itself.
But time moves quickly and they have to return to their ship. He hates leaving Sanji. He really does. But they promise to see each other again! He even gives Sanji his white handkerchief. The one he likes. The one that's all ripped and worn out. Because it's the one he uses the most. The one he uses when he's with Ace! And it has his initials engraved there, but the S is the only thing that can be seen, so it's okay! Sanji keeps it like a reminder of freedom and the fact that they'll for sure see each other again!
But they don't.
Because the news of Sanji dying reach Sabo and he's devastated. It's so unfair. And it's true. He knows he's dead and he can't do anything about it. But he also knows his family had something to do with it because he's not stupid. He has to move on past the rage, though, even if it's extremely infuriating and frustrating. He has to move on. Sanji, on the other hand, doesn't let go of the handkerchief and Sabo's words, even if he has lost all hope. Yadda, yadda, yadda, you know how the story goes. So Reiju helps Sanji escape and he knows he'll probably never see him again, but he still hopes. Sabo thinks, meanwhile, when he meets Luffy, that he'd love Sanji. With how much he keeps talking about food and dreams! And Sanji would love being here too. Well, not really, because Gray Terminal doesn't seem at all like something Sanji would enjoy, but it for sure would be better than Germa. And Sabo would be able to protect him too. It doesn't matter now, though.
Time-skip moment. Sabo remembers his childhood and his brothers and Sanji. And Ace just died. So great. It seems that the world is always against him. He doesn't have much time to think about Sanji because right now the only thing he has in mind is Ace, his fruit, and finding Luffy. But Sanji's image, for some reason, keeps appearing in his mind. He isn't sure why, but it's still engraved there. He tries to forget him, but now that he truly wants to forget, he doesn't. Fuck it. Well. Dressrosa happens. Yay! He got a brother back and Ace's fruit. Yadda yadda. We know how it goes.
He doesn't actually get to meet Sanji in Dressrosa because I'm trying to be loyal to the timeline, so let's say that this is post-wano and pre-egghead (and Sabo is fine and he isn't in the huge mess he's in right now). Sabo goes "oh, I want to pay an actual visit to my brother's crew. I didn't get to meet everyone properly" and that's when the cool stuff happens.
You know, he tells Robin first about it and she informs the crew and stuff. When Sabo gets there, the only one on deck is Luffy, so of course he gets all excited and jumps to hug him and keeps talking about his crew and how much he's gonna love everyone! Like Nami because she's super smart like him!!! And Usopp because he has the coolest inventions!! And Sanji because he is the best cook-
Wait, Sanji?
And it can't be, because his Sanji is dead. His Sanji can't be Luffy's Sanji, right? Impossible. He guesses it might be just a coincidence and tries to move on from Luffy's words. But then he starts meeting everyone and Sanji gets out of the kitchen to greet him and- Oh. Okay. Yeah. That's definitely him. He has not forgotten those eyebrows and blue eyes and bangs. He could tell it's him from a mile away. Sabo thinks it's his memory playing with him, but then he remembers Sanji's sudden death without any explanation and blames his young self for not realizing sooner what truly happened. What's funny is that Sanji had the same reaction, because when Luffy talks about Sabo for the first time, he freezes at the name. But he guesses it can't really be him, and Luffy doesn't talk enough about him for Sanji to make the correlation.
But no, yeah, it's definitely him.
As you said, they both freeze. And it's actually kind of weird because everybody is looking at them, but they're only focusing on each other so it's also extremely romantic. Sabo tries to act calm and collected when he asks Luffy if he can speak to Sanji in private, and Luffy instantly says:
Luffy: It's to ask for extra food, right?! I am not going to steal yours like when we were kids! I don't do that anymore! Usopp: He still does that. Luffy: But Sabo can have whatever he wants! Sanji will make it! But not more than me. I'm sure you're gonna do it just to piss me of- Sabo: Luffy, you can have all of my food if you want to. Just let me talk to him for a second. Luffy: ?? But why?! It's been so long. I want to be with you! Sabo: Because- Sanji: If you let us talk in private I'll give you two desserts. And more meat. We'll have whatever you want tonight. Luffy: OH! AWESOME! Nami: What is this about again? Franky: Yeah... It looks like you two know each other. Sanji: Who says we don't? Luffy: YOU TWO KNOW EACH OTHER? Sabo: No. Not- Luffy. Give us a moment. *They go into the kitchen together* Zoro: First he's a prince and now he's fucking Luffy's brother. Are we sure Curly doesn't have anything else to tell us? Luffy: He's not- Nami: Shut up!! I can't listen to their conversation through the door if you keep talking!
(She doesn't hear them at all, actually, because the others keep talking and Sabo and Sanji are pretty quiet and she gets bored of trying to spy on them).
They don't really know what to do except to stare at each other. Sanji is about to make some joke or something to make things lighter, but Sabo goes and instantly hugs him tight. Sanji feels he's about to start crying. Especially when Sabo says "I thought you were dead" / "Well, I am not" / "I can see that" / "I- I'm sorry. I truly hoped we could meet but- Things have been a little- Fuck. Just. I'm sorry. Judge- My-" / "Yes. I know. I mean. I don't know, but it's obvious you don't want to talk about it now and I know it's your shitty father's fault. Don't worry about it" / "... Alright" / "Is it weird if I don't want to let go of you?" / "Shut up. You're the one making it weird" / "You grew up. Quite a lot. Remembered you so tiny and cute" / "Oh, fuck you, I am not-" / "Still cute, though" / "You were nicer to me back then" / "You were less sarcastic" / "Touche" / "Hey! So you finally got to be a cook! And for the future king of the pirates! How does that feel?" / "Tiring. Exhausting. Frustrating... A dream come true" / "....... You look happier" / "I am.... Hey? Can you keep like- Holding me for a while? Because-" / "It's okay. Yes. If I let go of you I might start sobbing. This is fine. As long as we don't move, we're fine" / "Great". (Also have in mind that this is post-wano so Sanji is extremely sensitive and wants to kind of sort of die. This is probably the best thing that has happened to him lately. Or ever)
And this is getting reaaaally long already so to end this just say that they definitely end up kissing at some point and dating and then uh, things™ happen. But just think about them having a happy ending. I- I want to write a fanfic now. You can't do that to me. Ughhh. What if I did- What if I did write this fic- Thinking thoughts.
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cjsees · 4 months
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writing hardenshipping again send me strength
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quirkle2 · 8 months
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who wants zombie au writing. don't answer that ur getting it anyway (1.6k words)
His shoes knock against the old flooring of the house, wood creaking under rubber soles that slide over the woodgrain. He drags them a bit, lifts his limbs up no more than he strictly has to, and they lead him to the nearest sittable surface.
The couch is old and dusty and has likely gone untouched for months, much like everything else nowadays, so he watches the thin cloud of dust billow off the cushions largely with disinterest. He collapses into the fabric heavily, feels the whole thing scoot back an inch and hit the wall behind him. The sound echoes, carried by lifeless rooms, while he unceremoniously drops his backpack to the floor by his feet.
The breath he lets out is slow and methodical and born of pent up muscles, aimed at the ceiling where he rests his neck against the back of the couch and relaxes every limb one by one. It’s a process he forces himself through, if only to rid the constant ache beneath his skin.
Slow, sweeping footsteps meander around the room in front of him, and Ritsu angles his gaze down from his craned back position to look at his brother. He wanders, like he so often does—seemingly aimless, but there’s something procedural about it that he’s convinced he just hasn’t figured out yet.
Shigeo’s empty eyes crawl along the hearth of the fireplace, explosions of ash sprayed out across the red brick. His head tilts up to trace his attention around the angular lines of the television, hung on the wall and screen grey with dust. He flits back and forth between the roundness of the bricked mantle and the sharp edges of the screen, like he’s taking notes.
Shigeo paws the television. Four lines of muck are cleared. The zombie blinks, paws at it again with dusty, curious fingers. Ritsu watches him make a mess of the television screen in silence, blinking tiredly.
He almost closes his eyes, but he fights against the urge and moves his fingers down his lap to reach for his bag. His middle hooks around the loop at the top and he lugs it up and into his lap, where he unzips it and peers into the shadowy contents.
Ritsu fishes out the water bottles. He finds the one with the messy R scribbled along the cap in sharpie and takes a big swig of it. It’s warm going down, constantly insulated in a bag of old, sweaty clothes. He feels like he can taste the odor in it, but it clears the grain in his throat from stomping all over dirt roads today, so he’s still grateful.
He holds out the one labeled S to Shigeo. “Thirsty?”
Shigeo looks at him from where he’s crouched down to the floor now, inspecting the soot along the hearth. Unfortunately, he sees handprints in the black already, and when his brother reaches a hand out to take it, his palm is covered in soot.
He lets him have his fun and settles his own bottle back in the mess of tangled clothes and rolls of bandages. Ritsu rakes his fingers through their stock with no real purpose—he knows exactly what’s in here, and none of it is useful.
They’d been searching all day; Ritsu doesn’t really know how far they’d walked, but it had to be a lot of miles. In and out of stores, up and down empty houses, weaving between warehouses—they didn’t really stop for a break. Not when Ritsu can hear Shigeo’s stomach from here and he himself has shaking hands. They can’t afford a break.
Nothing, though. Not a single goddamn thing worth taking. A settlement must have come through here long ago and swept the highway. They’re in the countryside, where houses are spaced out acres from each other and there’s entire cow pastures between properties. And yet every house they’d seen and entered provided nothing.
Ritsu stares into the negative space in his bag where there should be supplies. His stomach cramps and if he smells another whiff of that godawful sweaty, bloody sweatshirt he still carries, he’s going to throw up bile.
He leans away from the open pouch, eyes wandering to his brother who draws… something into the soot of the hearth. His water bottle sits on the floor, abandoned and still unscrewed. Ritsu leans forward with great effort and a grunt, leaning over his bag to grab at the top of it.
It takes him two tries to get Shigeo’s attention, and one more for an answer on where the cap is. It’s then placed in his palm, covered in soot and also saliva. Ritsu swallows down the nausea that rolls up his throat and wipes it off with his frankly already disgusting sleeve, and screws it back on.
He leans back again, succumbing to the urge to let his eyes rest, and he listens to the very subtle swipe of his brother’s hands across brick. There’s birds outside, chirping, and even though it’s still very much a common occurrence, Ritsu cannot help but feel nostalgic about it.
If he ignores the awful hum of silence, and the distinct lack of an electric thrum throughout the walls, and the fact that this is a stranger’s couch and not his, he can almost imagine normalcy. He can almost say this feels like those quiet moments after school, when he settles on the couch and scrolls through his phone in a house that only holds him and his brother because their parents simply aren’t home yet.
He can almost hear the creak of wood from Shigeo walking around his room upstairs. He can almost tap his fingers on the couch cushions to the pattern of his brother making his way down the steps. He can almost hear the fridge opening, and the sound of milk being poured into glass.
Almost. But Ritsu listens to sharp silence instead, and he tries not to think too hard.
He drifts for a while, feels himself truly sink into the couch and let the cushions claim him, and he thinks about nothings because if he doesn’t, then he’ll lose it. He carefully sifts through the nothingness of his mind, through the passing thoughts that have no bearing, and he focuses on that, on the lack of substance. His head is too full of things that have too much substance.
He misses boredom. He tells himself he misses boredom—the complete insubstantiality of it—because if he lets himself think of what he really misses, it’ll drive him insane.
The cushions move, and Ritsu peels his eyes open and lets himself get pulled from liminal mindspace. The cotton in his head recedes, and he blinks, and then he’s swiveling his head to look at his brother who sits in the cushion right next to him.
His hands and the cuffs of his hoodie are smothered in black. Shigeo sits hunched, gaze still wandering even when there’s not much decoration in this house to look at. He studies the off-white walls, the chips in the paint, the holes drilled in where there maybe used to be photos hung.
Ritsu gazes at him quietly, chest instinctively rising and falling to match his brother’s rhythm. He watches the expansion there, under his hoodie, in the subtlety of the folds and the way they warp over the movement. It’s slightly quicker than what he’s used to, but Ritsu knows his brother’s heart rate is much slower. He’s felt it before. He’s listened to it before, with his ear against a chest.
Ritsu’s attention moves to his eyes, and the heavy bags underneath them, and the paleness of his pupils and the ghostlight of him underneath that. He stares into them, looks for stray, familiar thoughts that might enter his head. Looks for old memories that might shine through in the form of recognition when he sees furniture layouts, and candy wrappers, and ads for soda.
Ritsu looks for it all the time, that glint of familiarity. And he finds it, sometimes. And really, he thinks that’s keeping him going more than food ever will.
Shigeo turns his head, and looks at him. Sometimes, when his brother looks at him, there’s not much there. No substance, no anything. And Ritsu finds it a bit evil that he craves silence in his own head, and yet noise in Shigeo’s, and often times it is the other way around.
His brother looks at him now, though, with that comforting recognition. That growth of the pupils, that softening of the hard edges of his face where unknown stressors have gotten to him. Ritsu wonders what zombies get stressed out. He figures it’s the same deal with humans, considering they’re largely alike.
Ritsu wonders if Shigeo knows he’s sick. He wishes he could ask him. He wishes for a lot of things. Silence in his own head is one of them.
Ritsu swivels his head away and stares at the ceiling, if only to force the thoughts to pause. He studies the popcorn ridges above them, traces the peaks with his gaze. It calms him, gives him something to focus on. He looks for patterns in the shadows they make.
Shigeo shifts next to him. And then he shimmies down, settles into the cushions, and plops his head right down on Ritsu’s shoulder.
Static roars in his mind and his heart stammers. Ritsu swallows the lump in his throat but that just makes it bigger, so he clamps his mouth shut and breathes carefully through his nose.
The tears cut through the grime on his face. He plops his own head down against his brother’s, and lives in the noise.
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orcelito · 10 months
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Like OK so I've been reading a fic with trans wolfwood in it that is so. HONEST. About how it affected him and still affects him. In a way that's very much not an average cis writer portrayal of a trans character.
Like. Either this writer is trans or did plenty of research, but it just feels REAL to me. And it has me thinking about my own way of writing trans Wolfwood.
I'm not there yet. But I've been thinking about it. The ways that what the EOM did fucked him up... but it also acted as HRT that affirmed his gender. So what do you do when you're in a body you don't recognize, but looks much more like a man than ever before? There's some gender euphoria in a way, but dysphoria at the same time bc you didn't grow into this. You didn't watch yourself transition. Suddenly you just Were this, and it's not you, but also it's nice to finally be seen as a man, but it also feels wrong to feel grateful for any part of what they did to you...
On and on and on
You see? This is what I want to think about with him. This is why trans Wolfwood is so compelling to me. It's just so Complicated, he'd have such Complicated feelings about his body and the way he lives with it. He learns this new body, it starts to feel more like his, but he also mourns the fact that he didn't get to watch it grow into this like he should've.
That kind of thing.
#speculation nation#itnl shit#tagging it bc these r things relevant to itnl ww. because. he is trans☺️#TRANS WOLFWOOD MY BELOVED!!!!!!!!!!#i wanna do more research into trans things. ive already done a lot. but like#into the actual physical side of it all. the effects of HRT. all those messy little details that people dont often focus on.#some months ago i skimmed thru this writing guide on how to write trans men. and i think i wanna revisit it#read it more slowly and thoroughly.#bc im confident in my ability to write trans characters. considering the fact that im not cis myself.#but im not a trans man. so there r some Things that i just dont know about by virtue of not having experience with HRT#so. research! supplementing my existing knowledge with the perspectives of the actual people im writing about.#and so it goes when ur writing about an experience that is not entirely your own.#it matters to me to make my writing of trans men as realistic as possible.#even with the messy details that people normally shy away from. Especially them.#i pride myself on my realism as much as is within my means of capturing it.#realistic emotions. realistic reactions. realistic bodies.#i am Going to write a trans wolfwood that is So realistic. as much as possible.#(i keep specifying ww with this even tho vash is trans also just bc vash is a bit more uhhhh not human lol#so the definition of what makes him trans is a bit more loose. still inferred by real life experiences#but he wouldnt have the same sorts of experiences with HRT. or gender expression in general#so i feel less of a pressure to capture it as fully accurate to the real life human experience as possible. if that makes sense.)
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clowningaroundmars · 28 days
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working on this hobie1610 thing... but i also have a lil gwen and miles42 thing floating around in my head too..... weehhhh
@starcut-sand you inspire me TOO MUCH!!! CUT THAT OUT!!!! /lh
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choccy-milky · 24 days
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the place me and my roommate were supposed to move into today was so disgusting and uninhabitable we just took our stuff and left and now we're gonna be staying at airbnbs and hotels until further notice/until we can find a new place hopefully quickly...........im in my homeless drifter era y'all!!!😍😍so if im not as active then thats why LMFAO
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1 like = 1 prayer
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legodamianwayne · 1 year
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BATMAN AND ROBIN 2023 #1 (Take 6 (yes))
(im not writing this as i go since ive already read the issue before. ill also be mentioning gotham war since this takes place during it (just a warning for spoilers!))
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i just noticed the bat and robin on the cover! so cute
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OH........(just noticed this too) that doesn't look good
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look at them goofing off n having fun
this is cute but the way bruce acts here and in gotham war is so jarring its kinda funny
bruce in batman #137: can't stand my fake ass family
bruce in b&r: me and my son damian 🤗
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bruce is in his "local dilf in the area" era rn
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damian having talia's mannerism that bruce noticed is so <3
and here its confirmed that this takes place during gotham war. not sure how to feel about that
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STILL INSANE OVER THIS baby first self insert fanfic
damian went from drawing hyper realistic gore vent art to anime eyes in the corner
i think it'd be fun if we see damian write more as the story goes on. like him daydreaming n doodling in class
wonder if theres any meaning with damian putting talia as a hero n bruce as a criminal here...or maybe its just a "totally original character do not steal" thing
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you dont say bruce 🙄
"the last few years"?? pretty sure the events shown there all happened not even in 2 years since damian turned 14 around the start of the lazarus tournament
also why are alfred n talia not shown there? alfred's death has huge impact on damian (he literally hallucinated him) n talia was there as much as ra's
i dont like how damian looks here but that white connor should be a crime
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"thats enough emotions for tonight father" [slams door]
i wonder why damian is staying with bruce tho (outside of making this book exist) didn't bruce n talia had a custody battle moment™ n damian's like "nah i have my own life (is literally 14)"
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HELL YEAH MY BOY CAN COOK
he's quoting alfred ohhh im gonna sob
this is kinda embarrassing for bruce...like ur son is finally living with you again n he's the one up early cooking?? sir u better step up
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aw he's making tea the way alfred did
*squints* did bruce get his hand back? thats a pretty normal looking hand to me
did damian's comment on it in batman #137 made bruce think "shit i cant give damian any ideas of getting a robot hand" n he just. magically grow it back
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[GLASS SHATTERING SOUND]
gotham...heights? n. not gotham academy? no maps? no damian joining her dnd team?? no detective club finally hanging out with damian??
ik damian got expelled from gotham academy BUT. WHY
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okay? whats the point if he's not going to the same school that his friend went to?
interesting how damian fantasize for a normal life in robin 2021 (with him liking the mundanity of shoujo manga) n now that bruce is offering him that he's rejecting it (or maybe he just rly don't like school which is. fair enough)
wellll just cuz we're not getting maps n the detective club doesn't mean damian's other friends arent showing up right? RIGHT? (maya plz come home)
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THE ROBIN MOBILEEE it looks so ridiculous i love it
HOLD ON. DOES THIS CAR HAVE NO SEAT BELTS?? BRUCE UR LETTING THIS SLIDE?
ik that thing is rly loud too damian waking up the whole neighborhood here
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not rumors abt the batfam fighting getting spread around?? this is so embarrassing omg
am i the only one getting gotham academy flashbacks here? with killer croc n the trio with the fox shark n bird masks
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they're very comfortable with calling eachother father n son while in suits huh. ig everyone in gotham knows that batman is a dilf (who's beefing with his adult children) now
not much to say abt the rest: bruce got shot with something n now bats are attacking him
end thoughts: i hope with all the focus on animals here means that we're getting damian's pets back soon n that gotham war wont affect this book much since i rly want to see damian interact with his siblings again. also is it just me or does the day scenes looks very bright? saturated? it kinda hurts for me to read idk. the night scenes r pretty tho
next issue is damian's first day on his new school that is not gotham academy but im still excited for it! (coping)
bonus bestie corner
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lunaetis · 4 months
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MUSELIST UPDATE
muse(s) removed : yukong, serval muse(s) to be moved from primary to request only : dehya ( g.enpact ) muse(s) to be added to request only : yangyang ( w.uwa ) muse(s) to be added to testing : wanshi ( pgr ), changli ( w.uwa ), ceres ( v.irche evermore )
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wasabi-gumdrop · 4 months
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just discovered and absolutely devoured neon glory and oh my god i'm in love with kirishima and also absolutely love your writing style!!! and your character designs!!! i'm so in love!! is neon glory still ongoing? either way i love it to pieces and maybe need to reread it immediately because holy fucking hell,,,,,,,,hot!!!
thank youuu this is so sweet 💕 i’m glad you enjoyed neon glory 🥹
it’s definitely still ongoing! it’s just been a crazy busy year but it looks like things might wind down a bit this summer. thank you to everyone for patiently waiting 🤧
here’s an excerpt of the next chapter!
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mordremrose · 4 months
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I’m just gonna write a little thing! A little thought for Bloom, nothing too intense, just so I don’t forget it!
1000 words later? Whoops
Writing below the cut, major spoilers for the end of Heart of Thorns and implied End of Dragons spoilers but nothing explicit from EoD :]
Bloom
“Kill me, Commander.” Trahearne could hear his own voice tremble, as horror overtook his dear friend’s face. Around them all, their friends— Rytlock, Caithe, Canach, Marjory, Braham— were exhausted. Worn thin by the fight against the jungle dragon, both physical and within the Dream.
“What? No! Mordremoth is dead. We destroyed its mind from the inside.” The commander protested, their fingers curled around the hilt of Caladbolg.
“But I still hear its voice.” Trahearne looked down at his hands, twisted and blighted as they were. His body was not his— he was corrupted. It was only cruel fate that he had kept his mind this long. Or perhaps something more sinister.
“Mordremoth is alive. One last hateful vestige… a terrible seed, planted deep in my mind.”
Trahearne’s hands curled into fist, as he took a deep steadying breath.
“You must kill me, Commander, before that seed grows. Before… before Mordremoth reclaims what it has lost.”
He reached out now, hands on his friend’s shoulders. The tears streaming down their face broke his heart. He did not want this. He didn’t want to hurt them, to see them suffer so.
Trahearne wished there was another way.
“What is left of me can’t survive on its own, my friend.” He croaked, and felt the Commander tremble beneath his hands. Were they always so small?
“Strike now or—“
Against his will, a rage rose up. A sick bile that boiled in his stomach and burned through his chest as his mind lurched.
Through his mouth, Mordremoth spoke.
“I am the future! I am this world! You cannot destroy me!” The dragon roared, hands tightening around the commander.
“Run while you can!” It took everything he had left to force his fingers to uncurl, to release the commander even as the dragon wanted to tear them to shreds to be remade anew.
Caladbolg flashed in the corner of his eye.
“No!” The commander yelled. Strike true my friend! Trahearne wanted to yell. But he couldn’t, and his mind went dark.
There was no great explosion. There was no dying scream.
If you asked those present what happened, none of them gave any concrete answer.
Canach hesitated to answer, but would confirm that Mordremoth was no longer hounding his mind, or any of the sylvari.
All Rytlock would say was that the confrontation wasn’t pretty.
Caithe mourned Trahearne, in her quiet and melancholic manner, and asked not to push the matter further.
Braham would scowl, shake his head, and shove his way past, unwilling or perhaps unable to describe that final blow.
Marjory Delaqua, normally so elegant and clever with her words, who could see the twists of a plot before anyone else— when she was asked, she could only shake her head and reply ‘I don’t know’.
The Commander didn’t answer at all, because no one was able to find them to ask.
Eventually, researchers at the newly established lab of Rata Novus confirmed what the entire world held its breath to hear.
Mordremoth was dead. He had to be, to explain the slow steady trickle of magic escaping the jungle, supposedly as the dragon… decayed wasn’t the right word, but it conveyed the idea well enough. It was a slow death, they said, not quite the explosive reaction from Zhaitan, who had gorged itself on magic before its death, but a gradual decay. It changed things, about magic, about how the people of Tyria and the soon to be established Dragon’s Watch understood the flow of magic around and through the Elder Dragons. But it was dead.
It had to be.
He woke up. His body ached, as it always did, as he woke. A consequence of being too bigsmall. He stirred slowly, limbs stretching out and tail dragging behind. He had buried himself beneath massive vines this time, the weight of them both familiar and restricting. These conflicting sensations, the constant disagreement with himself… it was the only thing he could rely on. Even his name escaped his memory, although he could hear whispers of it on the edges of his mind.
Traherdremaneth.
It didn’t matter, really.
He moved slowly, not truly wanting to rise, but knowing he must.
He was something in between, and there was no stillness for him. No place of his own.
His one companion, if you could call it that, would be upon him soon. A dogged purserer, both a thorn in his side and a trusted ally, trailed behind him. For a time he thought they left him— and the feelings that had wrought left him stationary in a deep cave for nearly a week before they had reappeared.
He didn’t want them close, he knew that much, but they were one of the few things he had, a consistency. He couldn’t see them well, not with the distance between them, but he could always make out the broken blade at their hip. The one that made the scar across his chest ache.
He wondered what would happen if he let them get closer. Would they strike? Would they know him?
They were his enemyfriend. What would they make of him? Caution kept him at a distance from them.
The longer he was awake, the more memories he could half-remember.
The Orrian landscape stretches out before him and it reeks of his sibling, twisting beneath the dirt. The undead don’t notice him, not yet, and he can take a moment to look closer at the coral. It was neither alive nor dead. Not unlike himself and yet so different to him or anything he had ever encountered before.
He missed his siblings, their quiet talks among the then empty roots, among safe coils with their constant presence around him. They were too distant to feel or simply gone now and it unnerved him. This was wrong. Perhaps they could help him make it right.
There was one other thing, other than his sort-of companion and his unsteady roiling mind, that remained constant. And this was the true constant. A steady beacon, that he could not see or hear, but simply felt in a way that he could not describe. A magnetic sort of pull that had him orbiting closer and closer.
It drew him in, out of the depths and dark underbelly of the jungle and the cave systems, towards the strange golden stones, the elegant walls meant to keep out creatures that wished to destroy the beacon. He was not welcome there, not yet, even though he meant no harm. He just needed to be closer.
He didn’t know how he knew that. He just knew it.
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