something that i keep coming back to is the idea of what would've happened if impulse or bdubs ate that golden apple in double life.
would it have unsynced their hearts? would it have unravelled their soulbind?
would one of them have survived?
maybe the realistic answer is that they both die anyway. maybe things stay the same and they end up bleeding in the snow as pearl trudges out of the fight alive. maybe it wouldn't have made much of a difference at all.
but what if. what if.
what if they were the only ones left? what if the apple made all the difference?
...i like to think they would've gone home.
home is a bit of an overstatement at that point, what little is left of it just barely standing, their items destroyed. there is no more bed to sleep in, no dinner table nor warm food.
but.
(impulse looks up, squints.)
there is still the roof.
(he nudges bdubs with a grin. bdubs grins back.)
so they make do.
(they're damn good at that, if nothing else.)
i think that it's late in the afternoon when they settle on the roof of their old home, limbs aching from the battle and dried blood on their clothes.
i think that they put together a makeshift bed, barely big enough for two.
i think that the sky begins to grow dark as they patch each other up, scraps of bandages tied lovingly around shared wounds.
i think that the world slows, turning into shades of pinks, oranges, and purples.
i think that they sit side by side.
bdubs sighs, his head on impulse's shoulder.
"what a day, huh?"
impulse huffs a laugh, "you can say that again."
his hair's a mess, ruffled like all the mornings before, the ends singed from lava and explosions. his lip is split, the sting echoed. the colors of the sky sit reflected in dark eyes. dried blood stains his cheek.
bdubs lets his gaze linger, drinking in the sight.
in the still quiet of the world, bdubs looks at his husband and thinks him beautiful.
then, impulse turns to him, a teasing smile on his lips.
"are you just going to sit there and stare at me?" he asks. "there is an entire sunset in front of us, you know."
"maybe i'd just rather look at you," bdubs replies, easy as breathing. impulse laughs, but his cheeks are pink, warm under bdubs' kiss.
i think that they sit there until the moon rises, laughing and bickering until the stars light up the night.
the question, then, is what happens next?
perhaps there is a lifetime more painful than this one. perhaps it is multiple. perhaps this universe holds no room for kindness towards its victors.
but pretend with me, for a moment, and imagine a world where the universe says sleep.
you may rest now, it whispers, soft as the wind as they close their eyes. you have earned it. you have done well.
under the stars, side by side, two heartbeats start to slow.
until they finally, finally stop.
(here, they are the first to win happy.)
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lost longing for someone you can't recall, but that someone's a faraway deity
"The ancient gods changed men to things, but left them
A consciousness that smoldered endlessly,
That splendid sorrows might endure forever.
And you are changed into a memory."
so ! fanart for solar eclipse au by none other than THE @mochiwrites. but i switched the concept around?? (au of an au. woah)
.SPOILERS!!. spoiLERS!!!! I SAID SPOILERS.
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instead of solara being punished and casted down to earth for reincarnation it was proteus instead <333
yes i know amor solis takes place in a more modern setting but
personally mumbo k jumbo with his vest and tie and british glory gave me more of a painter than sculptor vibe (artistic boyfriends,,,)
bros drawing his lover from his past life when he cant even recall any of those memories <3
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just. something about how the clock is impulse's way of looking out for bdubs. the clock as a way to make sure bdubs isn't caught off guard by nighttime. the clock as a symbol that says i'll look out for you. i'll warn you of danger. be careful.
and the thing is it isn't perfect. the thing is it only tells bdubs if there is danger to come, to stay alert, stay vigilant. it doesnt tell him what he's facing or where or when— just be on guard. it is night time. danger lurks and i care about you and i want you to survive.
it isn't a compass, a guide back home. no surety of a map, no comfort nor light of a torch. it's a clock. practical, useful.
i feel like it's perfect because it's just like impulse. impulse knows when danger is at its peak: when your back is turned, when it is dark out and the shadows are long. a clock is about anticipation, he knows when he needs to raise his hackles and he knows when he could be unsafe— but it's not an exact science. he could always, always be wrong . he can never truly predict when things go south, but he can prevent it as best as he can.
don't come outside, the clock says, ticking in warning. it's dark. it's dangerous. i love you.
be careful.
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