#anyway have sibling bonding time

[sunderedazem]

“whenever you get stressed, you do this thing with your hands. what is it?”

For Corr plz

(Odessen, following the assault on Voss, and Arcann's early defection to the Alliance)

It's...very strange, having a brother again. Especially after losing Thexan to his own blind rage and jealousy. Especially when that new brother is, by right of birth order and raw strength in the Force, the rightful heir to the throne of Zakuul, even if he had been dismissive of his claim to the throne the one time Arcann had brought it up. Especially when that new brother is a half-brother, older made younger through the preservation of Carbonite, and the parent they share brought horror and pain to both of them in such different ways.

He didn't think Corrain would find it in his heart to forgive him, after he'd nearly killed the now-younger man on Asylum, impaling him clean through on a furious lightsaber. Not after he'd ravaged the galaxy Corrain so loved, glassed planets and terrorized billions simply because he could, because he was angry at the world and couldn't take it out on Valkorion. But then Corrain had found him on Voss, had quietly confirmed their shared father - and had stretched out a hand and said "...I cannot forgive you for anyone but myself, but if you want atonement...I can help you start somewhere, Arcann."

And now here he is, standing at Corrain's side as the tiny man paces around the holotable with the Alliance's latest reports, his long white hair tied back in a neat plait. He's rubbing at the base of his neck again, a habit Arcann has slowly noticed that occurs whenever he's particularly anxious about something. But before he can say anything, can ask any questions- Lana catches the offending hand in hers, pulling the slight Jedi to a halt, and plants a soft kiss on the nape of Corrain's neck.

"Relax, my sweet Jedi," she murmurs softly. Arcann turns away, feeling like he's intruded on something precious in spite of how they're standing in the command suite, in plain view of everyone. He's not the only one to do so either - he can see Eiri rolling his eyes pointedly, and the Togruta smuggler who's been such an impressively disruptive force for his supply lines, Kessin, also makes a face and looks away. It's not unusual for Lana or Theron to need to drag Corrain into a moment of calm, he's come to learn. Nor is it unusual for them to clearly display their affection for each other, with the odd side-effect of often quieting his brother's more passionate moments - as if he can only find peace within their presence.

But as Theron wanders over to help Lana corral their agitated Commander out of his nervous pacing, he can't help but wonder about the odd tic here - one that warrants simultaneous attention from both of his brother's partners. He bites his lip on the question, trying not to allow it to cross his tongue. The answer can come in due time, he's sure. When the memory of Valkorion's bitter ache on their pasts rings less clear.

And then Kessin clears their throat, absently flipping one of their lekku around their throat like a violet scarf.

"Oi, ex-tyrant, c'mere for a second," they call.

It stings - but he sighs heavily, turns away from where his brother is leaning into Lana's shoulder, a cold distance in those thunderstorm eyes, and follows them. He's led only a short distance away, just out of earshot of everyone clustered around the holotable - and then Kessin growls at him a little. Belatedly, he remembers that Togruta are carnivores.

"Okay, listen," they snap, but there's an unusual gravity to their voice and he can't help but straighten up somewhat at the tone. "You're about to ask about the reason why Cor's got both the Sith lady and spyboy on him right now, yeah? I can see you watching him when he paces like that."

Arcann doesn't have the heart to lie, so he nods once and then tucks his hands behind his back.

"Well...more precisely, I wanted to ask about the thing he's doing with his hands - where he rubs at the back of his neck," he confesses. "He...does it often, it seems, when he's anxious or stressed, and it's unusual. I wasn't about to ask NOW though, I'm not quite that foolish. Lana has already threatened my life at least four times."

Kessin appears only slightly appeased by that, and they lean back against the stone wall with an eye roll. They're taller than him, Arcann notices idly, though that's mostly due to their arcing montrals.

"Tactful choice," they comment lightly. Then they're quiet for a minute before their expression softens marginally. "Look. You're one of the few people in the galaxy I hate as much as Sith, but Cor's decided you're worth the effort somehow, and he's right about ninety percent of the time. So lemme give you some advice. If you ask about the neck tic - have a few bottles of alcohol with you, and put Lana or Theron on standby. I was there for part of uh...his particular incident. It's a hell of a story, and he's still shattered by it, in a lot of ways."

Arcann stares, a little flabbergasted.

"You- aren't trying to warn me away?" He asks, stunned. Kessin's expression hardens again.

"...no. Not when...well. This involves your father. His father. Ugh. The karking piece of shit Sith Emperor. You already know the little Commander hates your dad. This is related to why."

Arcann can feel his blood boil at the mention of Valkorion's other incarnation - and suddenly the way Lana and Theron are tag-teaming his younger- older?- brother into a semblance of calm makes far more sense.

"Then thank you for your guidance, Captain Meyka," he says, tone low. "I'm grateful."

They snort, but there's no bite in it.

"It's not for you, jackass."

-

He manages to catch Corrain alone later that evening, after carefully approaching Lana - suicidal, probably, but she'd just raised an eyebrow at him and nodded curtly, then shot off to find Theron - and the location is ideal. Arcann almost wonders if either the Sith lord or former Republic spy that his brother loves so much had suggested the young commander come out here.

The Odessen wilds are beautiful, after all. Calming but cold, steady but melancholic- a strange, delicate tightrope between pain and peace. And Corrain sits calmly in the grass, meditating. Arcann can feel him in the Force, like the warmth of a summer thunderstorm, clean ozone and soft rain and muggy heat, and dangerous potential. Storms can build, he knows - and Corrain feels like he's been waiting for the sky to break for years.

"You, uh...noticed my little habit, did you?" Corrain asks as he approaches. Arcann reaches for him without speaking, brushing the edge of his awareness against his brother's as carefully as he can, hesitantly projecting both worry and curiosity and the ache that wishes he knew this new sibling better- and Corrain turns to look at him and smiles wryly.

"I'm not going to break anytime soon, Arcann, you don't have to just tap me like that," he says- and then he sees the bag in Arcann's hand, a bottle of Alderaanian wine and a couple cups peeking out- and he laughs. There's a rueful twist to it.

"I was...warned this may help make the conversation smoother," Arcann explains with a sheepish frown, and pauses next to a patch of grass next to the Jedi. "Ah, may I-"

"Sit your ass down," Corrain laughs again, and there's no bitterness in the sound anymore. Arcann does as invited. "And alright, I might crack a bit. Who told you to bring wine?"

Arcann hesitates, then shrugs.

"Captain Meyka."

Corrain groans, a little exasperated, but fond.

"Classic Kess," he sighs. "Alright then. Ask."

Arcann pauses, regarding Corrain for a long moment. This close, his relation to Valkorion is distinct, but not obvious - there's a similarity in their faces that eludes definition- and then of course, there are those stormy grey-blue eyes. Valkorion had that eye color, once.

Corrain just watches him, white eyebrows hiding behind his bangs.

"My original question was going to be to ask why you rubbed at your neck when you were anxious...but I was informed it was related to our father, so-"

He doesn't miss the way Corrain's entire expression curls into a snarl at the mention of Valkorion, nor the way his thunderstorm aura crackles into static electricity and howling anger, a cyclone of hatred forming in the blink of an eye- and Arcann can almost taste the satisfaction of his own answering fury on his tongue. After all - it was this hate, it's intensity and passion which had convinced him to join his younger brother.

"...Darth Vitiate held me captive for almost two years," Corrain says finally, and reaches for the collar of his shirt, tugging it open and pushing the fabric down to bare the upper part of his back and neck. And Arcann freezes at the sight of raised, ropy scars striping over pale skin, at the jagged lines of stark white cut into the nape of the Jedi's neck. There's so many, he realizes. And some are layered over each other, as if to rip open old injuries for added pain.

When he lifts his head to meet his brother's gaze again, he can swear those grey eyes flash acid gold.

"He implanted a shock collar." The quiet voice is like ice. "Wired it directly into my spinal column while I was awake to feel the agony. Used it to punish me when I wouldn't kill for him, then forced me to kill anyway."

Ah. Arcann's expression sours, like a flame forced to smolder, and Corrain grins in answer. It's not a nice smile- there's a feral bloodlust in it, and the promise of vengeance. Arcann knows from his knowledge of the Jedi that it's not something they'd encourage. But it's what convinced him to follow - the genuine pain, the rage, the kinship it creates between them. The sure knowledge that this young storm - his brother, his younger sibling, found in the worst of ways - is his best chance at truly seeing Valkorion fall.

And yet- he can't shake the guilt, the sorrow for what he's done. For the suffering that must be having their father's spirit rattling around inside Corrain's subconscious. There's too much of Thexan's strength of heart in Corrain to see it lost to Tyth's fire and Izax's desolation.

So he reaches out, steadier this time, and lets his youngest sibling feel the weight of his promise.

"I will see his hold on you broken, little brother," Arcann swears, and it tastes a little like hope. "I will see you free again."

And Corrain softens back into kindness and summer rain and the smell of the earth after a nourishing rainstorm, and his smile turns true.

"And I, you, Arcann. And I, you."

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

what kind of favour do you require in exchange for an equineswap jiang yanli

I will fight god if that's what it takes.

No favour required! These guys were in the original doodle dump!

[nerdie-faerie]

I'm once again thinking about the missed opportunities to have Klaus and Kol bond more. Part of Klaus' whole motivation as a vampire is to get his werewolf part back and to finally be stronger than Mikael (sort of, I'm simplifying) both of which can be obtained by breaking his curse. But Kol? Kol is the only other original that can relate to having a fundamental part of themself ripped away from them. Klaus might not have known he was a werewolf until he killed, but he likely still had a connection he couldn't explain, as evident by him going to watch the wolves transform. And something he'd never been able to explain was now gone. He might only be able to realise the connection afterwards through its absence.

Kol though. Kol had grown up with magic, a connection to nature and the world around him in a way the rest of his siblings supposedly didn't have. And then he gets turned. And not only has his baby brother died, his father has just murdered him and the rest of his siblings after forcing them to drink human blood, which he'll later learn. Now, not only does he have to deal with the grief of Henrik's death and also his own but also the loss of his magic. A loss that's likely only worsened by Kol being a self-proclaimed child prodigy.

Kol is pretty much the only one who could understand what Klaus is going through with the binding of his wolf. We know Kol searched for ways to get his magic back/carry on practicing magic in the same way that Klaus was looking for ways to break his curse. While Klaus likely could still feel his wolf there despite being bound, Kol has no access to his magic anymore. I just think they should've been able to bond or connect over their shared loss of an intrinsic aspect of their selves at the hands of their parents

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

I think the theme of "home", while not always in the forefront, is something that interests me about the Sonic Movie Universe (in a similar way it interested me during Prime)

For Movie!Sonic, home is where you make it first and where your family is second. After his guardian died, he presumably jumped from place to place, and it was a while before he had a stable home. He made himself a home on earth and fell in love with the land and the culture. But you get the sense that as long as he's in hiding and ostracized all the time, it never fully feels like home. So it's important that he got to really experience earth and living in Movie 1 with Tom. It's important that he made earth his home, and then made the Wachowski household his base. No matter where he goes on earth and beyond, he has a family he chose and who chose him he can come back to and be himself around. "Home" for Movie!Sonic began with necessity, progressed due to his growing attachment to earth and what it offers, and fully settled in with him having a more permanent place in this world and support.

For Movie Tails, I surmise that "home" to him is where Sonic is. He was ostracized (possibly even bullied/picked on) back home for his two tails. After listening to some of his lines in movie 2, Tails read to me like a character who'd been treated as weird or an outcast and ended up isolating himself as a result. I got the impression that when he wasn't indulging in his love of technology/mechanics (or perhaps even at the same time) he was holed up in his base, watching a live stream of Sonic and his adventures, even after the conclusion of the first movie's events. He knows everything about Sonic, down to knowing that he doesn’t take showers, before even meeting him properly. Tails is not at home on earth nor particularly entranced by earth itself (in opposition to Sonic, who became entranced with it). He only even goes there to warn Sonic and to help him out. But Sonic's place—Sonic's home—is on Earth, in Green Hills, with Tom and Maddie, and Tails has formed an actual bond of friendship with the hedgehog he formed a possibly parasocial relationship with used to watch on a screen. Before, I think Tails was just content with watching or being helpful. But now? Now that he's spent time with Sonic, Sonic makes him feel normal. Sonic makes him feel like even "weirdos" can do great things. Sonic makes him feel valued. He's no longer content just watching because Sonic is more his home than the place he grew up in ever was. Home to him is with the people you choose, the people who make you feel at home, the people you want to be around. The Wachowski household is Sonic's home because he loves earth, green hills, and because he has mutually taken Tom and Maddie as his parents. Earth and the Wachowski household are only Tails' home as long as Sonic is there.

And for Knuckles... He has the set up to fall in love with earth in a similar way Sonic did. He grew up/was born in a similar place to him. And yet, all of the beautiful nature on earth doesn't matter to him. Knuckles, as of the beginning of the Knuckles series, had adopted a different approach to Sonic. Sonic tried to make home for himself wherever he could, no matter how many worlds he'd jumped to. In contrast, Knuckles never bothered to do this. He only pursued the mission, never bothering to make a home when he'd be off to the next world soon enough (especially if it seemed trivial in the face of his life's mission). And it's pointed that although he's able to participate in what earth offers the same way Sonic is in movie 1 (Knuckles learning how to bowl or Sonic going to a bar), he is not at home because of those things. He's able to slow down and appreciate what earth offers, the same things he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge before, and yet he's not at home on earth because it's beautiful or because it has food he likes or whatever. He very pointedly makes a connection with Wade and his family. The Whipple family is home. Not the earth, not even the house itself. He feels comfortable when with them, he enjoys the time on earth he spends with them, and he is able to appreciate Earth better when he experiences it with them (in contrast to Tails, who never had any sort of arc of appreciating what one can experience on earth to me). Home to Knuckles isn't easily quantifiable (more of a feeling really), but it’s about the people who make you feel at home. It's about the people who helped him relax and feel more comfortable not always putting his focus into the mission.

Sonic, who can make home anywhere, who always appreciated what was great about living on earth, and whose "home" was finally made permanent when he spent time with Tom and Maddie.

Tails, who never truly felt home until he spent time with Sonic, who doesn't particularly care for what earth has to offer, whose home is wherever Sonic is.

Knuckles, who never allowed himself to feel at home or tried to make a home until he began to travel with Wade and open up to new experiences, who began to enjoy earth and yet considers his home with the Whipple family specifically.

Sonic would protect the earth he lives on even if everyone he cared about was gone. Tails would protect the earth he lives on so long as it's Sonic's home. Knuckles would protect the world he lives on not just to keep the master emerald secured, but so long as this place is home to the Whipple family, with whom he enjoys experiencing Earth with.

Do you... Do you get me?

[high-voltage-rat]

Quotes from tonight's dragonfable conspiracy theory-style discussion while playing adventurefriends and the end of magic with my sibling:

"Did Big Daddy seriously see that the first potion made things weird and reality-bend-y and decide to stick some god juice in the mix?" "Yeah he's a mechquest fan like us. He did what he had to for the cause."

"Is bacon the imaginary number of elements? And is it the opposite of fear?" "Would that make fear a negative element, or just extra positive?" "Don't make me explain imaginary and real numbers to you to theorize about elemental bacon right now."

"So the best way I can describe it is, the shadowscythe are like the sugar daddies of doom in this timeline."

"The hawk tries to figure out why, the raven tries to solve it, the wolf goes to find the source, and the dragon was never seen again. But the dragons were the only ones to come out of the fissure, so what are we even doing, here?" "Tairy Fale." "What." "Reverse Fairy Tale."

"So maybe Valen and Maz touched Akanthus' nasty little chest orb and met Sk'aar!"

"You're really not supposed to touch across a capacitor. They're gonna get the magical equivalent of an electrocution."

"OH WAIT I FORGOT TO TELL YOU ABOUT THE COFFEE!"

"Oh my god, Korin is just bacon."

"Sk'aar either has a head the shadowscythe logo was based on, or he's the victim of a coincidence that probably got him bullied on aequillibria playground."

"THE BLINDING WHITE LIGHT, BRO, THIS IS JUST LIGEIA ALL OVER AGAIN???"

"Secundus more like Sugondese." "Leave."

"Look, I agree that friendship and breakfast both feel cosy, but the bacon theories are crossing over into crackpot 'bad game theory videos' territory now."

[cryptidm0ths]

kanakana doodles

[lambjock]

i think that viewing the little hope relationships as just ‘family’ ( specifically : blood family, ones with traditional roles and relationships, one bred from a nuclear familial structure ) has a habit of dismissing them entirely. it is not blood that binds them together, nor is it family structures, and throughout every iteration of their lives things change. sometimes they’re merely neighbors with a slim portion of blood relation, sometimes they’re bound by flimsy paper or war, and sometimes they’re students at a college following their professor around. the nature of their relationships change, as do their circumstances and surroundings, but they ( as a mismatched unit ) are eternally bound and divided by a child and an inherent, unescapable tragedy. the important aspect of their relationships is that they are agonized individuals who are stuck together and wouldn’t like to be. the important theme between them is that despite their determined suffering, all the bad ways they clash, and in spite of a bubbling self loathing so awful that it literally kills them, they have found love and comfort in each other anyway, or perhaps have realized a love that has always been there. there’s no ‘i love you as a daughter’ between angela and taylor, just as much as there isn’t any ‘i love you as a sibling’ between dennis and tanya. they just love each other. even the clarke family, arguably the most familial bond they have, still isn’t traditional. none of them are blood and all of them are strangers inside their own home. they don’t look alike and they don’t share dna and they typically don’t care for the facade of a family either, more content to treat each other like roommates at best, and that’s fascinating because why would they care? why would standard labels matter to souls as ancient as theirs? it’s just another flesh they adorn, it’s just another pain they’ll carry and shape and hate. idk! i just think forcing titles on it all is rather boring in nature, and actively hinders the genuine relationships there, in an attempt to have a rulebook of sorts to follow. i also just loathe how the found family trope is constantly turned into a literal family, when it was made to spit in the face of a nuclear family structure. but that’s just me <3

[scattered-winter]

the funny thing about being aro is that I am genuinely afraid of being alone for the rest of my life, but if anyone even STARTS to imply that it's because I'm never gonna have a joyful and fulfilled life without a romantic partner it makes me so mad I see red

[trainingdummyrabbit]

I Am So Glad You Asked!!!

So basically... Tokitoswap! a swap au in which the tokis and the kamados swap roles-- yui swapping w/ tan, and mui swapping with nezzy. 

aka: Two Twins Have A Bit Of A Worse Time Than Usual And Suddenly Find Themselves In The Middle Of A Thousand Year Struggle Between Humans And Demons (Which Are Real By The Way)!

. it also happens to be an exercize in having a concept, going “hey, wouldnt it be funny if--?” and then it sticks and you have to commit. i keep trying to explain in a way that Makes Sense, but im gonna be honest. theres just So Fucking Much going on and ive been trying to write this for hours and i dont even know where to start summarizing WAHAHAH. i dont know if its very Canon Aligned but it sure is very Me Aligned and i sure am gonna commit to the bit! anyway. 

its heavily in-progress and was supposed to be a clean one-role swap but! Well!!!! It Sure Isn’t Anymore!!! 

under the cut since im Incapable of keeping things short:

funy lil swap au! ft:  Yui: “Older” Brother who Thinks he’s in charge. a beleaguered 14-year-old who stumbled into being a slayer and super isn’t prepared for this. Unfortunately, having your sole remaining family turn into a demon is kind of antithetical to “go home and pretend nothing happened.” he is handling this very well. (lie) a user of wind-breathing, his main priority is keeping him and mui safe, and is a bit overprotective. which is a problem, since mui will charge headfirst into the first sign of danger to protect him. their relationship is a bit messy, but they’re pretty much the only thing holding each other together. a kid trying so hard to act bigger than he is-- and inevitably, routinely failing.

Mui: Odd Little Creacher secretly hiding Rage More Powerful Than A Thousand Suns. just barely surviving the attack of their family one fateful night by That Man, he manages to completely break the curse and hunger or being a demon through his own sheer will. unfortunately, he also completely loses control of himself and, in order to make sure that energy doesnt completely tear him apart, his consciousness completely mists over-- leaving him rather airheaded and distant in an attempt to hold back the roaring of a new power he cannot control. . but hes so silly!! ^w^ couldn’t hurt a fly!!

Murata: Some Fucking Guy who just so happened to get roped into all this. is just absolutely baffled this kid is out here slaying demons like this, and is honestly doing his best to make sure he doesn’t stupidly get himself killed. despite being at a higher rank than them, though, he’s kind of... well, he hasn’t gotten the hang of water-breathing techniques. try as he might, he just cant quite reach the same skill level as some of his peers. even still though, he has to keep trying. he has a job to do, and promises to keep. 

Susamaru: Professionally identifies as a Problem. a user of beast-breathing, she just kind of... shows up one day and starts antagonizing. originally started fighting the twins for the honestly-kind-of-reasonable reason of “That Kid Is A Demon And Thats A Fucking Problem” but got distracted messing with yui enough to get. kinda curious about the other one. she’s loud and brash and fucking annoying, but at some point she just... asserted herself. and never left.  she’s an odd case. ridiculously skilled at the whole slaying-demons thing, she just... doesnt seem to take things seriously. has a penchant for irritating people on purpose-- but its purely for the extent of understanding how they work. what makes them tick. she’s here for a good time, not a long time. most of her peers don’t like her much, but once she’s decided that she likes someone, theres very little she wont do for them. and these nerds just so happen to be next on the list. 

. all in all, its just these dorks against the world. there’s just. a ridiculous amount of mess ive written about how they function and how their arcs shape up, and while there Are some other roles and etc written up, my brain has been completely laser focused on These Four In Particular, so . \o/ ! anyway, heres a bunch of ambient sketches from all over the place of Them(tm)

[coldshrugs]

what i see in you, i hope you find in me

characters: io laithe (wol), alisaie leveilleur, estinien varlineau wordcount: 1.6k note: io feels out of sorts in garlemald. her friends seek to comfort her. the first part of this is directly before "in from the cold" and the second part is the following day. [read on AO3]

There is a fragile warmth in Camp Broken Glass.

The Ilsabard Contingent troops, faces familiar and foreign to Io, begin the difficult work of welcoming the Ist’s soldiers into their camp. There are wounds to mend, fires to stoke, and enormous pots of soup to simmer and disperse. Not all of her people are cheery about it, but there is a sense of purpose in each of them. This is why they’ve come all this way, faced the perils of the north, faced their bloody history.

Healing is rarely a painless act.

Io stays on the fringes. At best, she is a divisive figure in this land–at worst, she is the manifestation of Garlean terror. It’s better if she lets the soldiers process their new circumstances without meddling and, truthfully, she could do with a moment of peace.

She heads toward a building adjacent to the cookfires to escape the frigid wind. This is as good a place to hide as any. She tugs her fleece-lined coat around her more tightly and leans against the near-frozen wood.

Miles away, the Tower of Babil looms over the city, angry, crimson, and waiting for her. The next leg of her journey, perhaps the final one, will take her there.

To him.

For nearly three years, Zenos has consumed Io’s thoughts. He has stoked her rage, sometimes indirectly, most of the time for his deranged satisfaction. He reaches for the darkness in her that no one else wants to touch, let alone acknowledge, and he sets it aflame. She hates him for it, yet she is grateful to him. One feeling lays on the other, like oil on water, and she cannot find a way to blend them.

At least not one that makes her sound sane.

Footsteps approach and the crunch of snow shakes Io from her thoughts.

“There you are.” Alisaie stops at her side. She glares at the Tower for a long moment, then turns to Io. “Are you alright? Some of the Contingent have asked about you.”

Io nods and pulls her attention away from the repulsive skyline. “I’m fine, Alisaie. Trying to stay out of the way for the evening.”

Alisaie frowns. “Would you care for company? Alphinaud and I have tended the worst of the injured, and have been all but forced to rest. He’s run off to find that witless oaf he admires so much.”

“He’s not so bad,” Io laughs, and gestures for her friend to settle in against the battered building. “In a few short months, you two will be thick as thieves.”

“You are not often wrong, but I fear this will be the exception.”

Io glances across the camp. It takes a moment to spot them, but Alphinaud, Alberic, and Estinien sit on a couple of low benches, sipping hot soup from hammered metal cups. All three appear to be in good spirits, smiling and laughing as Alphinaud recounts some story or other.

Something strange and sharp twists in her chest at the sight of them. The knowledge she isn't welcome to join them, perhaps.

Her second reason to hide.

“He’s angry with me. I suppose that is his right. I shouldn’t have let them take you two.” Io grits her teeth, fighting against the knot of guilt that has resided in her stomach since the morning.

Estinien is her friend, perhaps the closest she has here besides Alisaie. She understands him, so she can hardly blame him for being upset with her. They are family to him, Alphinaud, and Alisaie by extension. No less than they are to her. He has given Io little more than one-word responses since the twins were found. She may pretend otherwise, but his cold shoulder wounds her.

“Oh, to hells with Estinien.” Alisaie waves a gloved hand dismissively in his direction. “He’ll get over it. Would he have you fire upon civilians while negotiating peace? He may love my brother like a… well, brother, but he must admit there was no ideal series of events to be had. We all did our best, and we all made it through.”

Her hand lands on Io’s arm. Her fingers must feel like ice inside her glove, but Alisaie squeezes anyway, firm and reassuring.

“Thank you, Ali,” she whispers, and her gratitude hangs as a visible breath between them. They stay tucked between the buildings until Y’shtola calls them to dinner.

○––––––––––––––––––––––––––––○

Articulating what it is like to be outside oneself is something Io cannot bring herself to do. How could she describe watching her loved ones nearly cut down by her own hand, while she occupies the body of another? While an intruder operates hers. To be the stringless puppet and the feeble voyeur all at once

She has never been more afraid.

And Zenos… Though something in her heart still quakes like a plucked string at the thought of him, a modicum of sympathy she can't seem to erase, she finally accepts what she has known for so long: there is nothing for her there. Her most monstrous facets are reflected in him, a dark mirror she's been staring into for too long, but she could never do that to someone. Never.

With nothing more she can say to the others, she retreats to her closet-sized room in one of the less-dilapidated buildings. Io shrugs out of her coat, sighing with exhaustion. The icy air bites at her skin, even through her shirt, and she moves toward the ceruleum heater struggling to keep the temperature up in the corner. There is no time to rest. The assault on the Tower is happening in mere hours, and she needs to be armored, armed, and briefed.

Someone knocks, two heavy raps. Io leaves the tepid warmth to open the door.

Estinien?

He's the last person she expected right now.

His jaw is locked, and his hard stare passes over her in quick inspection, missing nothing. Fury lingers in his gray eyes, but unlike yesterday, it’s not her he wants to burn. Is he no longer upset with her?

Unable to meet his gaze, Io looks away. “Is something wrong?”

“I came to ask how you’re doing,” he says, “after yesterday.”

Io opens the door wider, inviting him into the space. He glances at the wooden stool in the corner, then back at her, and crosses the threshold with a reluctant step.

She sits on the cot, too far from the meager rays of heat. The air is heavy between them. Something is on his mind, and Estinien is never one to hold back for long.

“Are you hurt?” He asks after settling on the creaky stool. It’s too small for him, and she bites back her amusement. This is not the time to fall back into their comfortable patterns, no matter how much she longs for them. “They tell me you aren’t, but I would hear it from you.”

“I’m uninjured.”

“And your mind?” Estinien presses, facing her head-on. He searches her face, grey eyes refusing to shy away from whatever the answer may be. She has seen him like this before, harboring an indignant, singular focus, though that was years ago. Yesterday’s irritation was a shadow of this.

“Fine.” She tucks a knee under her chin. It is almost the full truth.

“Io. You're shaking.”

“Perhaps you should blame the climate.”

He grimaces, teeth grinding in frustration. “I have seen you cold before. Do not pretend we're strangers.”

Io runs a hand through her hair. Trying to fool him is as futile as attempting to forget the last twenty-four hours. But he is here, talking to her, and she doesn't want him to go just yet. “And what of your mind, Estinien? You don’t seem yourself.”

His next breath stutters out of him, followed by hesitant words. “Before I found them,” he starts, and she knows he means the twins, “I could only see the worst outcome behind that door. How late would I be, this time? What could I have done to save them? …I prepared my grief. Then the door opened, and they were fine. Just whinging about the cold. It was easy to blame you for what could’ve happened. Easier than going back to the first time I lost family.”

He pauses and looks at her. Looks into her. And there’s the man she knows like the back of her hand. The friend she knows so well, they communicate across silence and stillness. She offers him a half-smile.

“I scoffed when you disappeared, still angry at the false burden I thought you cast upon me. Had I known what happened to you…” The words trail into silence as Estinien forces his eyes away from her to the window and the malevolent tower beyond. “I realized you, too, are�� I will lose no more family, Io.”

Her sharp inhale stings her lungs. She watches him as he gazes out the window, projecting his anger toward Babil, Zenos, Fandaniel. Everywhere but her direction.

“Estinien,” she calls across the small room, embarrassed by the soft crack of her voice, and he turns back to her. “We’re alright, all of us. I would never let the twins come to harm. Garlemald has taken much from me, so much that offering aid to this land is agonizing, but it will not take them. I hope you trust me.”

He rises and gives her a firm nod, lingering by the window as if he’s not finished here. He shakes his head, clears his throat.

“Don’t let it take you either.”

That doesn’t feel like the end of it, but he leaves before she can say more.

[coquelicoq]

was trying to share a fun fact with my family today about a french idiom that means "to look bedraggled" so i said to them "hey do you guys want to hear a french idiom that means 'to look bedraggled'" and my sister said "can you say that again but in english this time" and i was like "i am speaking english? this is already english??!?!?????" anyway it turns out what she meant was that she had never heard the word bedraggled before in her life, she just picked THEE most confusing possible way to share that information. i was sitting there having a crisis like did i just say something in french and then immediately erase it from my memory or WHAT is happening 😖 that WAS english 😩 i haven't even said any french yet 😰😭

[love-3-crimes]

soul when heart and mind start fighting again

[daylightisviolent]

drinking song for the socially anxious is a davey and sarah song and they absolutely learned to play/sing it together

[cherrymoonvol6]

oh.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

No one:

Me: Okay, but what if their relationship has nothing to do with Sonic and Tails? What if Metal literatally just saw Eggman working on Tails Doll and assumed without proof that they were created for him? What if Metal quite literally attached to Tails Doll through this assumption and then their partnership progressed naturally? What if the inorganic creations fell in love as an unorthodox power couple and just so happened to resemble a famous partnership?