#lore and angst time
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yummycrummy · 2 years ago
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Got silly again
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chez-cinnamon · 5 months ago
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I just thought of something. Are the golden butterflies like Kinger's version of Caine's all seeing eyes? It would explain why they congregate around Queenie's statue... He missed looking at her... As well as around Queenie herself once she was brought back.
In a way, yes! They carry some kinda fragment of Kinger, since they came along after his transformation, but their primary purpose is something else. Other than being helpful little nightlights at night, they harbour memories!! If they happen to land on you, chances are you may remember something of yours or someone else's!
Let's take Kinger for example:
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Oops, this one might have struck a cord... he'll be fine give him some time!
But yeah, these little critters are very unpredictable when it comes to giving back memories, you can't choose the memory but they somehow know which one to give back.
And who knows... maybe they harbour some other powers...
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susiewithdauzi · 26 days ago
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hey so. do u remember that blurrbee angst i mentioned this one time. bc i sure do
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airenaiy · 3 months ago
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Maybe cause he is 🤡
Check out my ccard for art commissions as they’re currently open right now 😚✨
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beckyninja · 5 months ago
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Duty
Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader
Warnings: Nothing much this time, just angst
Description: As further opposition to the alliance between their peoples is revealed, Guilliman's betrothed finally opens up about her past.
Whew! With all the holiday craziness, I didn't think I'd get this posted today. Anyway, I hope you guys don't mind some lore. This is a sequel to Worthy, and a continuation of my Guilliman/Reader story. You can find the other stories in this series on my Masterlist.
In the all but empty Communications Center, Guilliman stared at the holographic image of Captain Takahashi. His Admechs and the Captain’s technicians had finally managed to cobble together an interphase between the two ships’ communications systems. Still, the Captain’s image flickered and lagged as she spoke.
“...have rooted out two more conspirators, Lord Guilliman. A pair of sanitation specialists. They attempted to take control of my ship’s steering mechanism.”
Guilliman clenched his gauntleted fist. “That makes seven attempts to date.”
“All of which we have discovered and stopped.”
“To your credit, Captain.”
The woman nodded curtly. “All the same, I agree it remains too dangerous to allow the Lady Heir to return on a permanent basis. Though, she will still need to send the first message to our homeworld once we are in range.”
“In two standard days.”
“Yes.”
Guilliman shook his head in wonder. Even in the time of the Great Crusade, such long range communication, without the aid of Astropaths, was more fantasy than reality. He added it to his mental list of technologies to acquire once the treaty was formalized.
“You will be sending the conspirators over for interrogation.”
The Captain’s eyes turned icy. “I will. Though I expect it will be more of the same.”
Guilliman scowled. During each interrogation, an implant of some kind had activated a small electromagnetic pulse within the prisoners’ brains, eradicating all higher functions. Only the first, the former Lord O’Rourke, had managed to give them any information before his unexpected lobotomy.
“Captain, you promised to clarify a few details from the first interrogation when last we spoke.”
For the first time, Captain Takahashi looked uneasy. Her eyes flickered behind Guilliman.
He understood. “Sicarius, await me outside. And see that none enter.”
He heard Cato’s teeth grinding as he obeyed.
“Forgive my hesitance, Lord Guilliman.” The Captain frowned. “But what I am about to reveal would no doubt be considered treasonous by my superiors.”
“I am grateful for your trust, Captain.”
Her frown softened. “I have come to believe we both have the Lady Heir’s best interests at heart.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “You told me how O’Rourke mentioned his orders came from a ‘prince’, someone he believed to be the true heir to our world.”
Guilliman nodded. He had long suspected your home to be less peaceful than you implied. Your obvious discomfort whenever the topic arose, the way you dodged the subject with the skill of an Aeldari warrior, and, of course, the continued sabotage attempts by your entourage did little to persuade him otherwise.
His logical mind knew the value of this alliance and the technology it would bring to the Imperium. But, in his deepest soul, none of that mattered. Someone was trying to take you from him. You. 
Only centuries of practice hid his churning rage.
The Captain continued. “As you know, our world is led by the Matriarch. She had three children, all who have since died. My Lady is the only child of her eldest and, under our laws, the Heir. But she has two cousins, the two princes.”
Guilliman’s lips twisted sardonically. He’d dealt with enough Imperial nobility to be more than aware of the twists and turns of dynastic politics. Part of him felt saddened at the thought that you came from a family afflicted with such foolishness.
And yet, he bit back a bitter laugh, was my own “family” so different?
“Her Grace has made no secret of her preference for my Lady’s eldest cousin. He is a charismatic young man, currently riding high on the glory of military success.” The Captain paused, looked uncertain, then continued. “In my opinion, Lord Guilliman, the Matriarch purposely isolated my Lady so she could not compete with her cousin’s popularity.” 
A shrewd move. Guilliman had to admit. 
No one who had ever met you and experienced your thoughtfulness and compassion could doubt your potential for popularity with the masses. How quickly you’d won the adoration of his own serfs proved that. Not to mention the progress you’d made among the Ultramarines.
“You think he is the ‘prince’ who gave O’Rourke his orders.”
The Captain frowned. “Possibly. The other option is the younger cousin. He’s rumored to be quite intelligent, but the Matriarch destined him for holy orders. He’s been sequestered in one of our scholastic monasteries since he came of age.”
Guilliman narrowed his eyes. “If dealing with my own Ecclesiarchy has taught me anything, it is that the lust for power can infect even the holiest-seeming priest.”
“Indeed.”
Guilliman stared through the Captain’s image, mind working. Too many variables. Not enough data.
“What do you believe, Captain?”
The Captain looked him in the eye. “Whoever gave the orders is irrelevant. I believe this mission was supposed to fail. All of us, myself, my crew, and the Lady Heir were supposed to die at Imperial hands.”
Yet again, Guilliman found himself impressed by this tiny baseline woman’s strength of will. “Thus removing the only obstacle to a prince’s rise to power, and ensuring your world’s continued isolation.”
“Yes.” The Captain’s lips lifted into a slight smile. “But no one back home foresaw this particular turn of events.”
Guilliman huffed a laugh. “Nor did anyone here.” His mirth was short-lived. “Once my betrothed sends her message, however, the game changes.”
“And all Void will break loose. She needs to be made aware.”
Therein lay the crux of the problem. How much did he tell you? How much did you already suspect?
“I agree.”
The Captain must have seen something in his face. “You said once that she’s stronger than she looks, Lord Guilliman. I assure you, it’s true.”
Strong in some ways, yes. But so, so fragile in others.
***
“Fascinating, Brother Tarchus. Remind me which section of the Codex that is again?” You smiled up at the Ultramarine, stylus and dataslate in hand.
“Certainly, my Lady. Chapter 647, Section F, Subsection B-14, Paragraph 54….” 
You scribbled frantically. “Ah, yes. Thank you. I have it now.” I think. “And why would you say this is your favorite passage?”
The giant warrior actually looked excited. “The minutiae of supply lines, especially to besieged worlds, is an excellent example of the importance of efficiency and practicality in uncertain circumstances.”
There. Something you could grasp. “The creation of order in the midst of anarchy?”
“Precisely.” You swore the Ultramarine almost smiled.
“In times of uncertainty, the order brought by the Ultramarines must be a great comfort to Imperial citizens.”
Tarchus cocked his head to one side. “I suppose that is one of the outcomes.”
“A beneficial one, surely.” You continued. “A fearful population is vulnerable to manipulation, whereas a population confident in its protectors is steadfast and resilient.”
“I had not considered.”
“Something to think about, yes?”
The Ultramarine looked thoughtful. “Perhaps.”
“Well, I should not keep Lord Guilliman waiting. Thank you for taking the time to explain more of the Codex Astartes to me, Brother Tarchus. It was kind of you.”
He nodded. “I found the conversation stimulating, my Lady.”
“I should like to continue in the future, if we may.”
“I…am amenable to that suggestion.”
You gave him a final nod, smiled again, and stepped past him into Guilliman’s chambers. Once through, you couldn’t hold back a laugh of triumph. 
Your betrothed looked up at you from his place behind his desk. “And what has you so giddy this evening, my love?”
He stretched out a hand, and you hurried to his side. “I managed to engage Brother Tarchus in conversation just now!”
“Indeed? It was my understanding he was being particularly stubborn.”
“Ah, but I believe I’ve found the key to an Ultramarine’s hearts.” You smiled slyly up at him.
He chuckled. “Enlighten me.”
“I simply get them talking about the Codex Astartes. It seems to be their favorite topic.”
“Believe me, I am aware.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and gave a dramatic shake of his head. “You have swept all before you, my Lady. Are none of my sons safe from your wiles?”
You rolled your eyes. “You know at least one is.”
“Cato can be… difficult.”
To put it mildly. You pursed your lips.
Guilliman ran a finger along your jawline. “Do not fret. You cannot help but be beloved by all in time.”
You felt heat rush to your face. “What…what happened to your ‘no touching’ rule?”
A flash of mischief in his blue eyes was the only warning you received before you found yourself hoisted up and deposited in his lap. You gasped and caught yourself with outstretched hands against his massive chest.
“Roboute!”
An arm of steel wrapped about your shoulders, pinning you against him. “I thought depriving myself entirely of your touch would cool my ardor. Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect.”
His head lowered, lips just shy of your own, as his voice dropped to the rumbling growl you loved. “Instead, I have decided to allow myself a few…small…indulgences….”
You melted into his arms when he kissed you, slowly and deeply.
An eternity, and yet not nearly long enough, later, he pulled away and smiled down at you. You rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes. 
This. If I could just have this, forever, I would be satisfied.
“My love, we need to talk.”
“Mmm?” 
The double beat of his hearts soothed you. You realized you could easily fall asleep like this, cradled in his arms, safe.
“It is time you told me more of your family.”
Your eyes snapped wide. “What?”
No. No no no. I’m not ready!
His arm tightened slightly around you, as if he feared you’d bolt. You considered doing exactly that.
“Captain Takahashi contacted me this morning.” Guilliman’s voice was kind, but firm. “There was another sabotage attempt.”
You jerked upright. “Was anyone hurt?”
“No. The Captain’s men-at-arms are skilled. But the fact remains,” he brought his other hand to your chin, holding it in place, “they were following orders from a prince of your house.”
Two faces appeared unbidden in your mind. One, fierce and angular, baring its teeth in a wide grin. The other, rounded and pale, eyes sullen. 
“Victor and Conrad….” You didn’t realize you’d spoken the names aloud until Guilliman reacted.
“Your cousins.”
You couldn’t turn your head away, but you dropped your eyes from his piercing gaze. “Yes. My cousins.”
You didn’t want to think about them. You didn’t want to think about…her. In desperation, you tried a new tactic. Slowly, you moved your hands up Guilliman’s chest, caressing the hard muscle beneath his tunic. 
“Can’t we talk about this later?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, wetting your lips with your tongue.
His breath stuttered, his eyes going dark and hungry.
You continued exploring his chest with your fingers, feeling rather proud of yourself… until he released your chin and captured both wrists in an iron grip.
“A good attempt.” One side of his mouth tilted upward. “But I will not be distracted.”
Struggling only emphasized your utter helplessness. “Roboute, please.”
“What are you so afraid of, my love?”
Something snapped inside. You snarled at the man you loved.
“I’m afraid of her! My grandmother, the Matriarch, the heartless bitch.” A hysterical laugh burst through your lips. “You think one of my cousins is behind all this? Whoever the saboteurs assumed their orders came from, I guarantee she is the one pulling the strings. She wants me dead.”
You stopped, panting. Guilliman stared down at you. It frightened you how little emotion you saw behind his regal mask.
“Why?”
Why indeed? Why stop now? Let’s air all the family’s dirty laundry.
“She hated my mother first. My mother, her eldest, her legacy. My mother, who threw everything away to sail the stars. My mother, who returned years later, pregnant with an unknown man’s child.” 
You couldn’t have stopped even if you wanted to. The words poured forth like blood from a wound.
“Grandmother banished my mother to an isolated Abbey in the highlands. I was born there, among the Holy Sisters.” You smiled at the memory of happier days. “Mother became their huntress, bringing in game for the larders. During her absences, I learned alongside the novitiates. History, theology, but also botany and bioengineering. I spent hours in their gardens and greenhouses. The Sisters are famed for engineering new forms of plantlife, medicines and textiles as well as food.”
You didn’t see Guilliman anymore. You saw the kindly, wizened Mother Superior, cradling a new strain of vitamin-infused apple in her weathered hands. You saw rows of pungent medicinal herbs swaying in the greenhouses. You saw Mother, laughing, hands outstretched to welcome you into her arms.
“When I was twelve, Mother died on a hunt. I grieved. But I wasn’t alone. The Sisters were my family.” You felt tears coming as you dropped your voice to a whisper. “Then, one night….”
Screams. You jerked awake in your room amongst the other novitiates, all of you bleary-eyed and confused. Light poured through the windows. You heard the hard tramp of boots. The door burst open and Sister Helena fell into the room, shoved from behind. 
“Which one is she?” A harsh voice boomed. 
The man it belonged to stood in the doorway, covered head to toe in tactical armor, brandishing a pistol.
He shouted your name. Sister Helena crouched on the floor, but said nothing. The man snarled and aimed his weapon at her.
“Wait!” You screamed, scrambling out of bed. “It’s me! I’m the one you’re looking for!”
You had no idea why they wanted you. But you weren’t going to let them hurt your family.
The rest of the night was a blur of grasping hands, roaring engines, and bitter cold. They hadn’t let you change out of your nightdress. They hadn’t let you say goodbye.
“The soldiers took me to the Matriarch, my grandmother, who said a plague that had devastated our cities the year prior had killed my two uncles. I was now the heir. Lessons followed. Endless lessons as she tried to force me into the model princess. At first, I resisted. But the consequences….” You shuddered. “I learned to keep quiet. I learned to obey. I learned to fear.”
You felt Guilliman’s hand on your lower back, rubbing circles. Slowly, your surroundings came back into focus.
“Breathe, my love.” His deep voice dispelled the haze of terror. “Just breathe.”
You buried your face in his chest, but words kept coming. “She didn’t want me. Not really. In time, I realized she was using me as a threat to my eldest cousin, Victor. By naming me heir, but promising the position to him if he behaved, she kept him on a tight leash. I was safe for a time. But if I hadn’t proposed this diplomatic mission, my death would have come at her hands sooner or later.”
“You must have known this envoy might have gotten you killed, with or without your family’s interference.” 
“I knew.” You wondered if you sounded as desperate as you felt. “But it was a chance. A way out! I couldn’t stay in that palace anymore, with her and her spies always watching.” 
Another hysterical laugh. “You know Grandmother once refused me meals for an entire week in a fit of rage? I would have starved to death if not for the kindness of the servants. I-I just…I had to…oh, Light help me.”
You wept, clinging to Guilliman, the only solid point in the maelstrom tearing through you. “Don’t let me go, Roboute. Please. Don’t let me go.”
His huge arms tightened further around you. “Never.”
***
Guilliman held you as you sobbed, held you close, and seethed. 
I could raze her planet. I could smother it in steel, snuffing out the lives of everyone who ever hurt her. 
He wouldn’t, though. The cost in innocents would be too high. You’d never forgive him. But still….
“Damn the alliance.” He growled. “Damn the treaty. Let your Matriarch think you dead. Let her think the barbarians of the Imperium slaughtered your entire entourage.”
Your sobs quieted and you looked up at him with wide eyes.
He cupped your face in his palm. “Marry me, return with me to Ultramar, and let me care for you. You need never set foot upon your homeworld again.”
“It would be so easy,” you murmured, closing your eyes, “to just say yes. To stay safely in your shadow and forget everything else.”
“Then say yes.”
A long moment passed in silence. He heard the muted voices outside his office, the omnipresent hum of the great ship, and your beating heart. Then, you opened your reddened eyes.
“I can’t, Roboute.” You seemed calmer now. “I may have originated this plan as an escape from my home, but all the other reasons I gave, I believe in them too. My people need the rest of humanity, and the rest of humanity needs us.”
A mixture of disappointment and sheer awe filled him. How, in the vastness and cruelty of the universe, had he found a woman so perfectly matched to himself?
“I used to dream of running away.” He muttered, only half aware he spoke aloud. “I dreamed of cutting free of the Imperium, of becoming a farmer. An honest, simple life.”
“It sounds lovely.” You smiled sadly. “But we can’t cast duty aside so easily, you and I. We care too much. All we can hope for,” you placed your hand against his cheek, mirroring him, “is to find someone to share that duty with us. Someone to stand beside us. Someone to love.”
“I love you.” Throne, my hearts feel about to burst with it.
“And I you.”
He kissed you again. Soft and gentle and so, so sweet. When he pulled himself away, you tucked yourself back against his chest.
“Forgive me for hiding all this from you, Roboute. I was afraid. I’ve been afraid for so long.”
“There is nothing to forgive.”
“When we reach my homeworld, my family will stand against us.”
Ferocity welled within him. Lifting you in his arms, he carried you to the great viewport and looked out upon the passing stars. Logically, he knew the star your world circled was not among them. 
Still, he issued a challenge.“I am Roboute Guilliman, Lord of Ultramar, Lord Regent of the Imperium, Primarch.” He held you close. “Let them try.”
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royal-chess-piece · 11 months ago
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ken-tfc · 1 month ago
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I made a lil thing about track!Asgore
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Under here you can see a shitty poem I made for him that like 50% google translate 😭😭🙏
Once a king who carries sorrow in his eyes
His kindom wept, away from the the skies
The lives he touched the lives he lost
Each one a memory each one a cost
A soul that withered a life betrayed
Each step he took a choice he made.
The halls once bright now stood in dust,
A broken crown, a shattered trust.
Through every battle his hands grew cold
The cost of mercy the tale of old
A sun that rose but not for them
A light they never knew again.
And even though the skies were closed
In the end the sun still rose.
A king whose hands had bled for peace
But war still raged and heart decreased
Each choice he made a curse he bore
A kingdoms fate forevermore
He thought of lives that could’ve been
Of futures lost of hearts unseen
A light that never pieced the gloom
A sun that failed to light the room
And though this is the path he chose
In the end the sun still rose
Choo choo
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infectedhome · 1 year ago
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Has anyone tried like... Burning Home down? or something like that?
they did!.. but it didn't go well. people were hurt, and a friend was lost that day.
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but at least it's gone, right?
...
right...?
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krypt-kir · 9 months ago
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Baby Blue, Where's Your Hue?
<- Start ->
(Next Part Coming Soon!)
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numbuh424 · 11 months ago
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shoutout to whatever L and Light had going on in Time Speaks
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gt-daboss · 3 months ago
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Retribution...
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or maybe not...
time lapse!
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strandedaylily · 7 months ago
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I PRSENT TO YOU . LITTLE GUY
I made this silly little guy in like two hours flat but I love him already. Everyone meet Blitz
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adrift-in-thyme · 5 months ago
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May I request Fairy Time and Hyrule doing some wing care or teaching the others how to help them take care of their wings?
Yes you absolutely may! Tysm anon!! I hope you don’t mind a bit of angst with all the softness
CW for one mention of blood
———————————————————————-
“How long has it been since you did this?”
Hyrule runs gentle fingers over Time’s wings. They spread grandly on either side, hues of soft greens and delicate blue-violets reflecting the sun’s smiling rays. Usually, they are colored in bold crimson and royal blue, which clash like swords on a battlefield. But today they take on a more tired appearance. Faded, they have begun to droop discouragingly.
Time has never admitted it, but Hyrule has eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that his wings change when something is wrong. More often than not, they herald the disturbance before it can truly become known. A flash of forest green and the next thing he knows Time is fading into the mist in search of solitude.
…or collapsing in the middle of the trail.
Now, Time hums, sounding distracted. His hands lie in his lap. Absently, he twists his wedding band back and forth so quickly it is liable to rub a rash into his skin.
(Another nervous habit of his Hyrule has picked up on.)
“I’m not certain,” he admits, after a moment of quiet contemplation. The words are spoken with an air of something so desperate to be flippant. “I’ve been occupied with other matters.”
Hyrule blows out a weary sigh.
Other matters like worrying about all of us.
True, things have been strained amongst the heroes since Twilight’s injury. And as unofficial leader — and the rancher’s ancestor — Time has borne the brunt of it all. But still….
Malon had warned him about this.
“Oh, he just doesn’t take care of himself.” She had whispered during a visit to the ranch months ago after Time had fallen asleep at the dinner table. Head resting on her shoulder, he slept far deeper than he had in days.
“I’m not askin’ y’all to hover or anything. Heaven knows you’ve got enough on your plates as it is. But…just check in once in a while, will ya, loves? I don’t want him to lose himself while trying to take care of everyone else.”
Hyrule can’t help but feel that he has failed. The events of the past weeks have left their mark upon him too. Exhaustion has hounded him at every turn, dragging him down so heavily that he has nearly collapsed beneath it. And yet, he had noticed the signs. The quietness, the reservation, the increase in snappishness…the fear. But he had done nothing about them.
It wasn’t until Time had asked if he had taken the time to care for his own wings that he realized he hadn’t seen the older hero settle down to tend to his own lately.
He winces as he weaves the spell into some of the worse areas, mainly gathered around a large scar. These large wings, normally so bright with magic and life, have begun to lose their glimmer. Frightened, they shrivel, curling in one themselves to shield from the light.
With wings like this, flying will soon become agonizing.
Would he have tried to anyway? Hyrule doesn’t want to know the answer to that question.
Solitude can be harmful. He knows that far too well. But sometimes he wonders just how much of his life Time has spent alone to end up believing it is the only way to get by. Even after this family they have formed along the paths of hardship, even after Malon, it seems to be the road most familiar to the hero.
“You can always ask me, you know.”
He has been gentle this entire time, even more so than he is with his own wings. But with this part, he is extra cautious. He threads the healing magic into Time’s veins with the delicacy of one handling glass.
“I know it’s hard to take care of your wings yourself. And I know it’s even harder to trust others to do it for you. But…” He swallows as his fingertips graze the scar.
What had occurred to create such a chasm? To his knowledge, Time has never spoken of the event. Sometimes, he wonders if he ever will.
“You trust me…right, old man?”
Time looks up, fingers stilling at last.
“Of course, I do, traveler,” he says, softly. “I don’t mean to make it seem like I don’t.”
“Then, let me help you. Please?”
“I’m allowing you to now, aren’t I?”
The traveler huffs. “You know what I mean.”
“I do. It doesn’t mean I can’t tease.”
There is a smile in his voice, and Hyrule is glad of it. Even still, if the hero believes he’s going to escape without a proper reply, he is sorely mistaken. If Hyrule is known for anything, it’s his infinite stubbornness.
“Come on, old man,” he urges, softly. “Promise me you’ll ask someone to help tend to your wings when you need it. It doesn’t even have to be me. Just ask someone, please.”
Time’s wings are beginning to improve now. Threads of vibrant red glow from beneath the green. Like blood on new cloth, they spread, engulfing the other colors. He watches, slightly awed.
“I love you, Time,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you enduring pain just cause you don’t want to be a burden.”
For a long moment, Time says nothing. The only sounds are the subdued jingles of the spell twined about Hyrule’s fingers and the harmony of their breaths. It is peaceful in a pensive sort of way.
Then, “alright,” he says in a voice taut with emotion. “But only if you allow me to help you when you need it. Don’t think I don’t see how you struggle to remember your own welfare. You are too selfless for your own good.”
Hyrule chuckles. “Well, I could say the same about you.”
A small smile lifts Time’s lips. “Such is the path of the hero, I suppose.”
“Yeah.” The traveler’s gaze goes to the scar once more. “I guess.”
Silence pads in on soft, silken paws and settles down cozily. Time goes back to rotating his ring, though the motions are slower, calmer this time. Hyrule turns his full attention to finishing his task. Above them, the sun smiles, and Time’s wings transfer it in panes of pale red upon the blades of grass.
“Traveler?” Time’s voice is so quiet it is hardly above a whisper. It nudges aside the quiet, murmurs with the wind.
When the hero is in his fairy form, it is as though he is of the nature that surrounds them; as at home amongst the towering trees and great sky, stones and moss and gurgling streams, as the fleet-footed deer or furtive foxes.
Hyrule looks up, head cocked in question. “Yeah?”
“Thank you. And…” Time smiles, so soft it erases years of anguished hardship from his visage. “I love you too.”
The traveler smiles.
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tommytomatoe · 10 months ago
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early david's the type of dude to get super jealous seeing angel talking to another guy just to find out its their brother or some shit
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jaycehousetalis · 26 days ago
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Cont. Deltahedron out of Lunares
-Joyous and incredibly aroused he's in the process of cockily explaining how that it should be easy to do. How he knows the length of Viktor's torso because he knows the very measurements of his own hands by heart, the depth between his thumb and fore finger and what that means when he's holding him.-
-But then Viktor coughs a bit, and it doesn't sound like a usual cough, not from the many years they've spent together. And he looks closer, face already shoved close into their form. Spotting the fresh and darkly hued blood against the fabric of their lab clothes.-
V?
-He says letting his eyes slowly look up at the other man-
V are you okay? Wh-what is going on... you're bleeding...
-Jayce is trying not to panic, knows better than to lose his mind when he doesn't have all the answers but all he knows is that Viktor is in pain, that he's suffering. That is more than enough to make his heart drop as if it'd been released from the atop the observatory itself.-
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arsenicflame · 7 months ago
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Izzy's never had any social media- why the fuck would he?- but there is a facebook account out there with his name, made for him by Ed back in the days when it was the hot new thing, and everyone had to have a facebook account. Theres a sum total of three posts on there;
The first two, made when Ed opened the account, marking that he changed his profile picture (Ed's favourite of them, armoured in leather but grinning at each other, full of love, like theres nothing else that matters in the world), and that Ed changed his relationship status now Izzy has an account- "Edward Teach is married to Izzy Hands"
The only other post, made more than a decade later, is Ed changing his relationship status to single.
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