#might as well tag him as well

[luimagines]

Wind introducing Reader and Warriors to his family and them both getting adopted as Wind's and Aryll's Parents?

Oh that's cute. Small family trope. #GiveLinkParents2023

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

“It’s nice to see such capable people taking care of my boy.” The elderly woman smiles as she sits in her rocking chair. “Link always writes about you but now that I’ve seen you for my own eyes, I can stay calm while he is away.”

“Of course ma’am.” Warrior smiles. “We care about him just as much as the rest of the people here do. He’s a good kid and he has a good head on his shoulders. We promise to bring him home soon and without... too many scratches.”

The old woman laughs. “I know my boy. He’s rambunctious. Always has been. I understand that he can bite off more than he can chew even on his best days.”

“We’ll try to keep him close then.” You joke.

You and Warrior had both taken to sitting next to the older woman as she knits. She had called you over to talk. Not that there was much space to do so, so you both have to sit on the floor. But you can’t say that you mind.

“Good, good.” She laughs. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“Dad!” Wind cries and barrels into the space.

Warrior doesn’t even question it. This has been happening for months now. It still never fails to pinken his cheeks however. “What is it, bud?”

“Look!” Wind holds out a small animal. It’s shelled with six legs pointing out on it’s side instead. Warrior bite his lip when he sees it. He clearly he doesn’t want touch it. Wind grins wider. “I found it! Can I keep it?”

Warrior tries his hardest to keep the grimace off of his face. You can see the way he forces a tight smile onto his face. “I don’t think you can bring him with us, kiddo. But if you can find him a happy place here, then yes. You can keep him.”

You pat Warrior’s shoulder in support, even if you start to laugh at his expense under your breath. “I think maybe you should just let him go, Wind.”

Wind’s smiles falls a little bit. “Why, Moma?”

You fluster a little bit at the name. Wind had taken to calling you that a few months ago and you’re not entirely sure why. You cough a little bit, trying to force your way through your own awkwardness. “Because he’s going be left alone. With your sister.”

Wind pauses at that.

“And her seagulls.”

Wind pales. “They’re going to eat him!”

You laugh. “Only if he stays here. He belongs in the ocean. You know there’s a saying- if you love something let it free, if it comes back to you, it’s yours.”

Wind frowns and holds the little crab close to his chest. He doesn’t want to part with it but Warrior nods along. “You know it’s the right thing to do.”

Wind pouts but relents. “Ok. Back to the shore you go, little guy.”

Warrior stands and walks toward Wind, ruffling his hair in the process.  “I have an idea. Before you let him go, let’s go show the Veteran what he thinks of your new friend.”

You choke on your laugh, having been able to stop it just in time. “Warrior, you’re so bad.”

He winks at you in reply. Wind can catch on that there’s something else involved with his request and grins maniacally.  

The young boy looks excited. He bounces a little on his toes, trying to still be gentle since he still holds the smaller creature. He agrees readily and waves to you. “Ok! Let’s do that. I’ll be back Grandma, Moma!”

You shake your head and wave back. “Be safe and don’t traumatize him too much.”

Wind laughs with more evil delight. Warrior looks like a proud father.

Wind’s grandma takes it a step further. “He really does look like my son.”

You blink and turn back as the boys leave. “Huh?”

She laughs quietly. “Nothing, nothing, my dear. I’m glad you’re here.”

You smile and sit back down, ready to give her more of your attention. “Of course. I’m glad I’m here too.”

Aryll comes in then, crying. The two of you look alarmed but you stand quicker. “Oh no, what happened?”

She sniffles and shakes her head. Instead of replying she walks toward you and hugs you. You’re not going to turn her away. You hug her back and sit her in your lap, rocking back and forth to calm her. Looking to her grandmother for help, she offers none and smiles instead. “She’ll be alright.”

You sigh, but take her word for it, setting your attention on the crying girl.

Grandma smiles wider and leans back in her chair. She knows she’s getting old and the children are still very young. They would still need guidance long after she’s gone. Seeing your interaction with her children puts her at ease. 

They’ll be taken care of.

[wasabi-gumdrop]

Kabru has a secret admirer in the castle!

[snakeoid]

imagine astarion so pale hes translucent like a glass frog. ur vampire so white he see through 😭😭

[stealingyourbones]

DPxDC the Olympics AU.

Jazz is competing for sharpshooting

Dick is competing for team gymnastics

Y’all can work it out from there :)

[zelkam]

— chuck palahniuk, haunted

[mirrorhouse]

I have what you're looking for. High quality. Befitting a man of my tastes. I have a room over on Divisadero, not too far a walk.

[kamabokobun]

I updated the designs of my depths race :) (+lore headcanon info stuff yayy)

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I've been doing a lot of reflection as of late, especially after this past class.

This past class was about the Torah and Tanakh in general, and the way the rabbi talked about the commandments (specifically the ten commandments) has made me really reflect on how I interpret them, specifically the fifth commandment, or honoring your mother and father.

This is a commandment I have wrestled with for a long time - in fact, it brought me away from g-d at multiple times. I was severely abused when I was incredibly young by my mother, and I used to feel insulted at the implication that I were to honor her while she got to live a better life. It was hypocritical, in my eyes.

But this rabbi surmised that this particular commandment was because parenthood is an act of creation, something that is like the g-d from which we come from. My realization is this: I don't think we're necessarily meant to take even these commandments literally.

I this particular commandment is more of a call to honor creation - creation is a gift, and like any gift, many people simply will not like it and will discard it. The person who abused me created me, but she did not honor creation. She didn't honor me, but I can still honor it.

I have started to honor creation much more. I'm too young, too unstable, not mature enough to be a father (though I fantasize about it), but I create all the time. I create relationships, I create with my hands through crochet. I create memories, I create my world. And I can honor who I am and where I came from that made me who I am. I've been learning one of the mother tongues of my family (Italian, since part of my family originates there) and it was judaism that inspired me to do this.

I don't think g-d wants me to honor my abuser. I think He wants me to remember the Holy action of creation. When I am a father, that act of creation will be Holy, and indeed, I am already joyful about the thought.

I have seen many people struggle with this particular commandment, but I think this perspective helps me personally. I don't think I ever have to forgive my abusers (plural), and I don't think I am commanded to simply because they happened to be family. I am commanded to recognize the holy, to elevate the mundane. In doing so, I will remember g-d. Through creation, I honor g-d and everything he has done for us, for me, and for our collective people.

[eveningrainstorm]

cycle knots

[arunneronthird]

one of the funniest things about grown up jon is he hasnt gone to school for 7 years and if no one else used this knowledge i will

[izzystizzys]

“ - but have you ever considered, I don’t know, not sucking all the time? Just a thought.”

It takes the combined grips of Nuisance and Hound to keep the wriggling, snarling body beneath Fox from throwing him off its back. With three years’ practice of having to fix his own rickety desk chair over and over again, the movement merely ruffles the proverbial fringe on his helmet.

“And I don’t mean that as an insult, necessarily. Well, I do a little bit. But also I have some amount of empathy for the no doubt immense amounts of trauma that had to go into the creation of something so dysfunctional as you, on a very personal level, so have you considered going to the root of that in a way that’s like… useful? Instead of wasting it all on kriffing Kenobi, I mean. Look at the guy. All he does all day is drink tea and commit warcrimes. I bet he knits for fun. Bit of an embarrassing nemesis, don’t you think?”

“I”, says Kenobi, then pauses. The space between his eyebrows is creased with uncertainty, and he looks deeply torn between continuing rocking the shaking Duchess of Mandalore against his chest from his corner of the throne room and re-activating his lightsaber to continue losing his fight against the Darksider Fox is currently sitting on. “I feel like I should object to some part of that, but I’m not entirely clear on what. Or how this happened, again. Isn’t Mandalore a few star systems from your purview, Commander?”

“Probably the warcrimes”, mutters Nuisance underneath his strained breath.

“About as far from my supposed assignment as yours, General”, says Fox a little louder.

Kenobi twitches. Fox cannot claim to know which of them does it. Both, maybe. Probably.

“I will - taste - your - flesh!”, heaves out Darth Maul, snarling and hissing.

“Oooh, kinky!”, calls Grids, from the corner where she’s got her stun-setting aimed at the other Zabrak, currently passed out cold. Fox sighs deeply. He knew he shouldn’t have taken those three - any combination of Grids, Hound and Nuisance in a room together usually spelled chaos.

Unfortunately, it also spelled competence. The Basic alphabet can be funny that way.

The point being: as of some months into the war, one of Fox’s assigned tasks is the surveillance of all GAR-wide communication. All command-class staff theoretically got that memo, but no one seems to have read the fine print where that includes both professional and personal communication, as well as any and all comm devices registered or suspected to be registered to that person. Especially not one Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala.

The point further being, if that sounds both immensely impractical and sort of terrifying in a democratic supposedly non-surveillance state, you’d be bang on the credits, and to Fox’ eternal chagrin the singular person in this whole useless army who’s spent the second of thinking necessary for that conclusion.

The final point being, when one frantic General’s mad dash across the Galaxy to rescue his teenage sweetheart from the spectre of his supposedly dead nemesis crosses his desk on its way to the Chancellor’s inbox, it doesn’t take much time for him to block any and all trace of it across the digital space of the GAR commboard and take matters into his own hands.

“ - which is why I told Thorn to suck it up and be in charge for a few days, and also why you’re still alive, your Highness, very welcome, was no trouble at all”, he concludes, drily. The Duchess stares the wide-eyed look of someone attempting to reconcile clones with ‘sentience’ or perhaps ‘personality’ in her head, but won’t say it outright.

Or the look of someone who’s just been violently overthrown and nearly murdered, perhaps, Fox allows.

“Um -“, Kenobi hedges, blinking rapidly.

“And the reason you’re still alive, probably. You’re welcome for that too, by the way”, Grids calls from the back of the throne room, cheekily.

“Alright”, says Kenobi, loudly. There’s color back in his deathly-pale cheeks, Fox notes, even if that color is a lot of red. It doesn’t fade very gracefully into his beard. “Opinions on whether or not I had everything under control notwithstanding -“

“You really didn’t”, Hound supplies helpfully.

“ - opinions notwithstanding, I am admittedly still lost on why you’re now sitting on Darth Maul and attempting to, to - jeer at him, Marshall Commander!”

“We’re not jeering, we’re trying to create a safe space and lay the groundwork for more open communication”, Fox says, primly.

Maul screams into the ground, attempting for the umpteenth time to rear up and visit great violence upon Fox, which admittedly has him rattling in his crosslegged seat atop his back.

Kenobi raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Safe space?”

“He’s restrained and not stabbing anyone, I personally feel much safer than before”, Grids muses. “Watch the teeth though, Hound. Little biter.”

Indeed. Fox’s right greave will have to be replaced posthaste.

“And anyways, the point isn’t to jeer at him, it’s to make clear that he’s focusing his energy in the wrong places and could be doing much better things with his admittedly not-great life”, Fox adds, shifting to cast a pointed look down at Maul. The Sith is panting open-mouthed into the durasteel floor, sharp teeth gnashing wildly as his piercing yellow eyes shine with barely restrained rage. “I’m just saying - aim higher. You aren’t seeing the forest for the Kenobis, Maul. Can I call you Maul?”

“I will feed you your own entrails”, yowls Maul.

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Right now, I’m an easy target to focus all that built-up rage on, but is killing me really going to help you achieve any of your goals? No! Think about it - when it all comes down to it, who sent you on that mission to Naboo in the first place? Who made sure the Jedi and, by extension, Kenobi would be there to kill you? Who used you as a dejarik piece and then cast you aside the second you outlived your usefulness?”

Beneath him, Maul slowly stills in his struggle, still panting heavily. Hound and Nuisance don’t let it deter them in their vigilance, because they’re damn good vod’e and possess an ounce of common sense.

“And, look, I get it. I could spend the rest of my life punching every civilian who spits on me in the streets and it would even be satisfying. I could hit back the Senators who think of clones as easy targets. Or - I can aim my sights at who’s on top. And I think you know who I mean, because you know as well as I do the same damn man has ruined both our lives.”

Kenobi makes an alarmed noise, and Maul an interested one - not that Fox is going to let him walk out of this place awake. Still, he tilts his head in a way he hopes conveys his helmeted grin successfully to non-vod, as well as the bloodlust behind it. “You’re also welcome for the fact that the Chancellor won’t have heard of your spontaneous resurrection yet, by the way. You’ll retain your element of surprise instead of gambling it away on petty revenge on Kenobi.”

“He cut me in half!”

“He killed my master!”

Fox waves their protests away.

“Also, that’s treason!”, Kenobi adds, sputtering. Fox grins. Kenobi purses his lips, and continues. petulantly, “…do you have any proof?”

“So. Much. Proof”, says Nuisance, dreamily. “Like, do you want it alphabetically or by date?”

Which is when the Duchess, of all people, bursts out into barking, crazed laughter.

“You - you’ve certainly given yourself an edge in that fight, Marshall Commander”, she wheezes, brushing tears from her eyes. Fox raises his eyebrows at her, which she somehow seems to be able to tell, because she gestures at the clunky handle dangling from his belt.

“What, this old thing?” He unclasps the black rectangle from its hook, holding it up in the air. Maul stills strangely beneath him, and Kenobi goes ghostly pale again. Fox is starting to get a bad feeling.

“I took it off Viszla and beat him over the head with it. I figured he’d taken it off a Jedi cadet or something. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

[ndn-craft]

Sneeg caught swearing in 4k

[iizuumi]

Side effects of wearing your Kaiju suit too often ,,,, Part 2

[orphiclovers]

Sponsors

[delzinrowe]

What do you make of having a vampire in our camp?

[dinsverdika]

I've been plagued by the thought of Logan just lying on top of Wade for days. Logan's heavy, one could say he's the perfect weighted blanket. Wade could easily move him away if he wanted but he can pretend to be a poor helpless guy who doesn't have any other resort but to accept being cuddled into the mattress (and the constant rumbling coming deep from Logan's chest is quite nice, too.)

It strokes Logan's ego a little, Wade would probably make an innuendo about it and Logan would threaten to stab him but he wouldn't actually bother because he's feeling too comfortable to do anything else than just lay there.