MysticalDelusion



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  1. Public Bookmark 4

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    It's always distressing when he doesn't recognize where he is or how he got there, even if he doesn't realize it himself. He tends to be moody like that anyways.

     

    Luckily, he doesn't have to fester in it for long as someone comes to join him soon after. Stan relaxes with the rush of familiarity. He'd know that face anywhere. It was just the same as his own.

     

    “Ford?” he says with a half smile.

    Language:
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    11 Jan 2025

  2. Public Bookmark 5

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    After Bill winds up on the porch of the Pines’ house whole the grunkles are away, Soos and Melody find him and help get him back on his feet. Now working in the shack, and the Pines family coming back for the summer, he has to deal with Ford breathing down his neck, Dipper’s paranoid stalking, Mabel’s glitter-bombs, and Stan’s small chat. How fun. And to top it all off, the Axolotl sent him here to better himself, and he feels like he’s only getting worse.

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    10 Jan 2025

  3. Public Bookmark 5

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    Julian and Garak have an awkward conversation. They're both too tired to talk about their feelings, and Julian wasn't really feeling up to lunch in the first place. Neither of them are particularly satisfied.

    In which very little is said, and too much is overthought.

    (From the prompt: What do you think their first lunch was like after the Dominion camp?)

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    01 Jan 2025

  4. Public Bookmark 7

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    Kardassi'ya was green, once. Eights of eights of eights of eights of years ago, Kardassi'ya bloomed, freely and easily.

    Now, the lands were desert, hot and cold and in-between.

    Now, the lands were broken with shellfire and destruction, barren and desolate.

    Now, the lands and the people suffered.

    Now, the Kardassi people had a choice.

    Grow or die.

    Language:
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    01 Jan 2025

  5. Public Bookmark 3

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    From chapter 3: One night, when it was once again just nurse Nodak and himself, she passed him a sponge.

    “Gently,” she just said, turning her attention already towards other tasks, leaving him alone to care for Julian's body. “And you’ll need to dry him afterward.”

    Garak nodded, but the sponge felt foreign in his hand. His fingers trembled as he dipped it into the warm water and pressed it to Julian’s shoulder. The human’s skin was clammy, and the sight of it made Garak’s stomach churn. He lingered there, staring at the droplets rolling down Julian’s chest.

    I can do this, he had told himself, repeating it like a mantra, swallowing down the memories of all the times his hands had killed, not cured. It’s no different than preserving a delicate piece of fabric. But that wasn’t true.

    Bolian silk could be replaced.

    Julian couldn’t.

     

    Aka: where promises are exchanged and wounds heal.

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    01 Jan 2025