#» ―― [ barnabas ✗ visuals. ] ❈

[whatithinkaboutdarkshadows]

Episode 601: Neither of us is a match

Recovering vampire Barnabas Collins and mad scientist Julia Hoffman are wearing complementary gray outfits today. Julia has a yellow blouse under her gray jacket; Barnabas’ shirt is white, but his tie is flecked with yellow florets that match Julia’s top. Barnabas and Julia have been inseparable for some time, but this is the first time they have coordinated their outfits. I suspect director Lela…

[notjusthespongenextdoor]

there's something i love in particular about the silly 'barnabas sitting on his human lord commander like a horse' drawings other than just the fact that they exist but it's that as a horse sleipnir famously has six legs. right. and when they're fully primed odin is riding sleipnir. yknow. normally. like a horse. and with the leg around the big fucking belly and foot in a stirrup so odin's legs completely disappear into the silhouette

but if you do the 'human riding a human like a horse' then when barnabas is sitting on him. his legs completely reach the ground or at least close to it

therefore. turning. his own legs. into the third pair of legs in sleipnirs silhouette,

[abrahamvanhelsings]

AUGH the odin boss fight... barnabas tharmr ffxvi babygirl you're so everything and fighting you was spectacular

[valiisthea]

@oflucendi

There is a strange sort of pleasure he gains from starting straight down into the eyes of his ex lord commander while his hands are wrapped tightly around the man's throat. There's an ever so delicate windpipe between his fingers that Barnabas could snap with nothing more than a flex of his strength, and the prospect sends his own disgustingly human pulse pounding in his ears.

Even still, it does not match the excited pace of the thundering pulse he holds beneath both of his thumbs.

"Breathe." He orders harshly, as though it isn't his hands keeping Cid from doing just that. "Go on, Cidolfus. For me."

[lowlylux]

I am a Sinner (You are a Saint)

Chapter Sixteen | Count the Scars

Ship: HeiKazuScara

Rating: E

Status: In Progress

Word Count: 3.1k

Description:

“You shall be cast out of the heavenly realm indefinitely.”

Kunikuzushi feels arms grab his own as he is forced to his feet. He struggles, keeping his eyes on his mother only. “Mother! Don’t let them do this!” The guards continue to drag him away, even if it is a struggle. “Mother!” He knows the gate to the human realm is growing closer to him. The more time passes, the less chance he has to escape. But the divine never back out of their decisions…never. He looks to his mother one last time, hoping that she at least looks at him. But her gaze refuses to meet his own.

When he is finally cast out, the air rushing past his entire body, he could only visualize his mother’s pained expression.

He has never felt so alone…

ao3 link

Scaramouche doesn’t quite know what really happened.  He has never quite experienced such a feat of being physically transported from another realm.  Yet, here he stands, a tyrant staring back at him.  It should never have been possible, a singular being should have never been able to transport someone between realms.

But angelic power should have never been able to mix with demonic, yet here he is, standing face to face with the person who made the impossible possible.

“If you wanted to visit me, you could have just asked.”

Scaramouche blinks at the statement before deciding to go along with it.  What is the worst that could happen?  “I didn’t know how to start.”

“Tartaglia would have done it for you,” Barnabas says with a smile, her eyes twinkling in amusement.  “We keep in touch, he would have done it.”

“He hasn’t been in the demonic realm for a while.”

“Unfortunately,” she mutters as if genuinely upset with such a fact.  “But if asked, I’m sure he would pay me a visit.  He owes me that much.”

“Childe doesn’t owe you anything,” Scaramouche says without thinking, immediately widening his eyes at what just came out of his mouth.  “I’m so sorry.”

She waves her hand, as if attempting to calm his nerves.  “Don’t worry about it.”  She pauses, as if thinking.  “You’re right anyways.”

“What?”

“I saved his life but that does not mean he should be forever indebted to me.” She says simply, readjusting herself on her throne.  “If he wants to spend the next fifty years with that human, well that is his choice.  In the end he will come back to where he belongs.”  She does not sound happy with that though.

“I’ll be sure to tell him that.”

“Thank you Scaramouche,” she says with a smile, her head tilting to the side.  “Now how have you been?  The last time I saw you…well you were a cherub.”

Scaramouche ponders on what to say.  On one hand, he could interrogate her.  On the other hand, he could convince her to not go through with her plan.  But both options seem out of reach as she continues to smile at him as if he has fallen into a trap.

“...why don’t I remember you?”

The Tsaritsa frowns at such a statement, as if she expected it but hated such a thing at the same time.  “Celestia has the means of…storing away one’s memories so they are unable to be recalled.  At the time, it feels obvious, but as years go by, you barely notice unless something from those memories reappears.”

“They sealed my memories?”

“You’ve seen my past, you can guess why.”

“So it’s true? I could just…ascend?”

The Tsaritsa laughs, finally standing up, making her way to Scaramouche, slowly, but surely.  “With all that Celestia has developed in order to stop such a thing?  I highly doubt it.  Perhaps when I first fell, but now you have an equal chance compared to all other angels.”

Scaramouche lets out a shaky breath, the reality crashing down.  “So they had no reason to hate me?”

“Sometimes there is not a reason for hatred.  It festers amongst those who harbor it for far too long without an outlet.  When they find someone who is able to take the blame, well, you become the face of it.”

She puts a hand on Scaramouche’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.  “You have been through so much, little one, and for that I pity you.  But I need to know, why were you snooping in my past?”

“I wanted answers.”

It’s not a lie, even if it is stretching the truth a tad.  But he really does not want to think of what this woman will do once the truth is revealed.  Because even if she is being nice now, she is still the demon threatening his home.  She is still someone who has killed people.  Even if she is someone from his past, it does not mean she is the same person from before.

“Answers to what?  Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Why everything happened the way it did.  How you became…” Scaramouche trails off, truly not knowing how to word what he is trying to say.  It’s mostly bullshit…and he has never been an amazing liar.

“Is that all?” The Tsaritsa asks, grinning as she grabs his other shoulder, forcing him to look at her.  “I could show you that right now!”

The world turns white, the only thing constant being the grip on his shoulders.  Scaramouche closes his eyes, the light bothering him far worse than even Celestia’s.

“It was quite simple really,” she says, pushing his shoulder so that he will open his eyes.  When he does, he is greeted by a familiar scene.  Barnabas sits in the mortal realm, looking in much more disarray than when he left her.

He watches silently as the scene continues.  It is only when a familiar demon, Pierro, appears, that he realizes that there is no sound.  

“Pierro offered me freedom…” The Tsaritsa says softly.  “I was still struggling over being abandoned by my people…the offer of a new family was almost impossible to resist.”

“That’s a decently far jump...angel to demon.”

“Pierro and I had met before…he was interested in my skill set.  I of course denied him at the time, but I would be insane not to think his offer held some merit at the time.”

Barnabas reaches for Pierro’s hand hesitantly, allowing the demon to help her to her feet.  Her wings are in disarray.

“He had killed the previous lord.  Yet, he did not want to take over.  He insisted that I was perfect for the job.”

“But weren’t you afraid that he was tricking you?  Wouldn’t it be easy for him to use you?”

“It’s why I killed him a few hundred years ago.”

Scaramouche flinches at her tone, not expecting the sudden switch.  She seems to notice, her mask slipping back on flawlessly.  “He was a threat to my family.  I was merely protecting everyone, you understand, don’t you?  After all, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it…Scaramouche?”

He is thrown back into reality abruptly, his blood running cold as he stares up at the Tsaritsa.  She stares down, eyes practically glowing as she waits.  She waits for a realization that Scaramouche doesn’t even expect until it all comes crashing down.

He never told her his new name.

“You knew what I was doing from the very beginning…”

“I’m not an idiot,” she says coldly, turning her back to him.  He has to stop a gasp when he sees her back.  Bones stick out, jagged and unsightly, the last remaining proof of her angelic nature, sawed away.  “I owed my harbinger a favor.”

“I’m not actually here…am I?”

She clicks her tongue, smiling as she turns around to see him.  “Always quick witted.  Tell me, is it possible to transport someone between realms?”

“Yes…but…”

“It requires a ritual.  Something I could never dream of doing,” she says, kneeling down to his level, meeting him on the floor.  “But consciousness is a different story.  Consider it a gift from me.”

“Where is my body?”

“With Dottore and Pantalone,” she smiles, no longer full of any warmth.  But as Scaramouche sits there, reality sinking in, he wonders if it ever was.  Was she such an amazing actress that she tricked him, or did he trick himself into delusion?  “They needed you, and I really did not want to wait any longer.”

“Why…”

“This is the best way to get to the angelic realm,” she says as if it is the most simple thing in the world.  But she sees his face, looking in his eyes for a moment.  She puts a hand to his cheek, frowning when he flinches away.  “You should have ignored the signs, stayed with the divine.  You would have had a chance.  I’m truly sorry for how you’re leaving this world.”

And for the first time in the conversation, she is telling the truth.

●•·•●

“Hurry it up.”

“I already told you thank magic takes time,” Kaeya hisses out, his hair pulled out of his face as he works on the spell, Albedo right there with him.

“Well tell it to hurry the fuck up,” Kazuha responds, pacing around.  “You fucking promised that nothing would happen!”

“How was I supposed to know it was a trap?”

“We should never have done it!  You never should have suggested it!”

“Hey,” Diluc responds, his eyes narrowing at Kazuha’s words.  “Scaramouche wanted the truth.  That much isn’t our fault.  No matter what, he would have sought after the truth.  We merely gave him a way.”

“Well I’m sure he’s happy to know the truth now that he’s been kidnapped.”

“I’m working on the transport spell, Kaeya and Albedo are working on the locator spell.  We will find him, and we will stop Dottore before the unimaginable can happen, alright,” Diluc says softly, attempting to reach out for Kazuha, but the blond scoffs and steps aside.

“Can’t Childe transport us?”

Childe, who has stayed silent throughout this entire conversation finally reacts, his eyes widening as he immediately shakes his head.  “If they find out I-”

Diluc steps in front of the ginger immediately, cutting the demon off.  “Childe isn’t going to get in the middle of this, am I clear?  You put him in danger and we both walk, right now.”

“You’d rather kill Scaramouche than make your demon uncomfortable?”

“Scaramouche is your boyfriend, not mine,” Diluc says calmly with a straight face.  “At this point it would be better to brainstorm how we stop a glorified apocalypse, not a rescue operation for an angel who we don’t even know found a way to put an end to this.”

“We need to save him.”

“And we will,” Diluc hisses out, stepping towards Kazuha in anger.  Kazuha wonders what would have happened if he would have continued to press the obvious buttons.  Would Diluc have punched him?  Would he have walked out and left Scaramouche for dead?  Kazuha supposes he will never know, mostly due to Childe standing up and grabbing the man’s hand.  Diluc sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before looking Kazuha in the eyes.  “Look, I understand the concern.  But unless you give us the time we need, we cannot do anything.  Am I clear?”

Kazuha continues to stare at Diluc, hoping for anything, a small crack in his demeanor that he can exploit.  But there is nothing…at least nothing he can see.  “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

And Diluc just…goes back to what he was doing as if that entire confrontation did not happen.  Well, going back to it is strong wording.  Whatever spell he is casting doesn’t require him to stay near it constantly…or, Diluc just doesn’t need to be near it at all.  Kazuha doesn’t quite understand it.  He doesn’t understand how Kaeya requires Albedo for every spell, but Diluc is perfectly fine without Childe.  He doesn’t understand why Kaeya has to get his hands directly on it, making contact while mixing in magical energy, yet Diluc makes it seem like it is as simple as breathing.

Maybe after all of this he should ask Ningguang about how all this works.  Maybe every witch is different, or maybe one of the two brothers is an exception to the rule.  His eyes widen at the thought, remembering a crucial detail.

He has never told Ningguang and Beidou about what is going on.  

He glances at the group, ensuring the status of saving Scaramouche is still in progress before stepping out of the room, his phone in his hands before he can even think.  The device rings a few times before a voice comes from the other end of it, immediately calming him.

“Kazuha?  Are you okay?” Ningguang asks.  He hears rustling on the other end, pointing at the very likely fact that Beidou is in the room.

“Ningguang…I need you to get Beidou out of the room.”

“I can’t act as your therapist Kazuha, goes against too many rules.”

“Then act like a mother, please Ningguang.  I don’t want to tell Beidou.” Kazuha pleads into the phone, nervously glancing toward the group working tirelessly to stop the end of the world.  “I can’t tell her.”

He hears muffled talking on the other end before it’s gone, only silence remaining as Kazuha waits.  “What happened?”

“I don’t really understand it all,” Kazuha mutters, attempting to breathe but failing drastically.  “There’s a witch trying to summon the demon…queen?  I think?  And we tried to get Scaramouche to look through some…memory pool?  But he’s gone.  They told me he’d be safe but he’s not and I don’t know what to do.  I don’t understand what is happening and am currently sitting outside a dingy bar that my angel boyfriend told me is some meeting place for creatures I barely knew existed a year ago.”

“Kazuha…honey, you need to breathe.”

“I can’t,” Kazuha cries out, ducking his head when a few heads from inside the bar turn to look at him.  “I can’t.” He hates when he gets like this.  He’s supposed to be the calm one, the one who is able to act with a level head.  But he can’t do that when he feels like he’s in the dark, every single person closer to the light while he falls deeper in confusion.  

“Kazuha, thank you for telling me about this.  Are you with that witch friend of Scaramouche’s?  The redhead?  He will know what to do.”

“He’s here…yeah, but when it comes down to it, I don’t think he will do everything to save Scara…”

“I’m so sorry,” Ningguang says through the phone, and suddenly Kazuha wishes the woman was right here, embracing her so that he can finally breathe again.  She always knew how to keep him from spiraling.  “I can’t do anything to help him…at least I won’t have the time to.”

“I know.”

“Then why would-“

“Is there a way to protect the both of you?  Use your…mythical creature connections and get out of here before everything comes crashing down?”

There is silence on the other end for a moment, Kazuha even finds himself wondering if she hung up.  But he finds solace in knowing that she would never do such a thing.  “I can find us passage to the angelic realm…Kazuha, you could go with us.”

“I’m not leaving Scaramouche.”

“What about Heizou?”

“If they are willing to let me and Heizou up there for safety’s sake, I doubt they would allow Scaramouche the same privilege.”

“So you’re staying?”

“Of course I’m staying,” Kazuha replies, finally getting himself back to being calm, something he was suspecting is becoming a far too reliable front to keep him sane.  “I’ll give Heizou the option.”

“That man would rather jump down into the demonic realm himself then leave either of you.” Ningguang says in a way that makes Kazuha snort.  He smiles, knowing that she is right.  “Stay safe, alright?  With all that’s going on…who’s to know when we will get to talk again.”

“You stay safe too, I’m sure convincing Beidou to run away won’t be easy.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“Don’t lie to her,” Kazuha says, warning the woman.  “She may love you, but she will kill you all the same the moment she finds out.”

“Who’s to say I’ll lie?  Don’t doubt me.”  Ningguang says.  Kazuha will never admit it, but one of the things that drew him to Heizou initially was just how similar he was to Ningguang.  The type of person who knows how to deal with others without them even realizing.  He likes being read before he has to say a word.  Maybe that makes him pathetic, he will never know.  “Goodbye, Kazuha.  Tell Scaramouche I said hello when you see him next time.”

She hangs up before they can continue the conversation.

Kazuha rests his head on the wall of the building, trying to make sense of everything.  He knew Ningguang would calm him, she always does, but that does not make it any less uncanny.  

“I see she beat me to getting you back.”

He doesn’t even need to open his eyes to recognize the voice.  He doesn’t know who called Heizou, but he’s sure he does not want to see the expression on the man’s face.  He can only take so much pity in one afternoon.

“How are they doing in getting him back?”

“I don’t know.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is he still alive?”

“I don’t-“ Kazuha cuts himself off, taking a breath as he stares at Heizou.  “They can’t tell me…or won’t.  I’m not too sure.  Or maybe they’re trying and I’m too stupid to know what’s going on because I simply do not know half of what they’re saying.”

“Then neither of us will be any help,” Heizou mutters, kneeling toward him.  He offers the man a smile, which Kazuha gladly accepts.  “I’m not as smart as you think I am.”

“You’re a genius.”

“In human matters,” Heizou says carefully, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Kazuha’s face.  “But this world?  I’m pretty certain Scaramouche is smarter than both of us in those matters.”

Kazuha frowns, averting his gaze.  “And now he’s gone.  Heizou what if he’s…”

“I think he’s alive,” Heizou says carefully.  “Think about it.  They knew I was alive because the plan did not happened yet.  If Scaramouche is truly the last step in their plan, we would already be face to face with a demon.”

“So he’s alive?” Kazuha asks, his voice barely audible before collapsing into Heizou with a sigh.  “I feel so helpless in all of this.”

Heizou pets Kazuha’s hair, running his hand through the blond’s hair.  Kazuha feels his boyfriend take a deep breath, as if preparing himself.  “I may have a way to get him back.”

Kazuha moves away from Heizou, just so that he can look at him.  “What do you mean?”  Heizou hesitantly gestures to the side, allowing Kazuha to look, and when he does, he cannot help but wonder if his boyfriend has gone off the deep end.  “That's a fox, Heizou.”

But that…fox…if Kazuha can call it that seemingly transforms in front of his very eyes.  It looks grotesque, as if parts of both human and fox meld together in a flesh-clad monstrosity before going to a far more palatable appearance.

She has long pink hair, a tad bit messy from her transformation.  For any normal interaction, he would note the eyes first, a piercing purple, but the wings are what gain his attention.  A single set sits on her back, drooping as if to hide them.  She blinks, as if grounding herself before taking a breath.  “I’m here about Scaramouche.”

15<< >>17

masterlist

[gooseplumes]

finally drawing out a visual reference for a character ive had for a while. barnabas, shopkeeper in his 50s married to this guy

human, furry and flight rising versions :)

[mimbotomy]

more writing asks!! 5, 9, 28?

5. What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?

If you asked me this a few months ago, I would have had a different answer for you, but I recently feel like I got over some of my weirdness about tags! For a long time, I was super picky about my tags because I didn’t want to overwhelm anyone like I’ve been overwhelmed scrolling through my feed and having to keep scrolling and scrolling through a fic that tagged absolutely everything the author could think of. So while I would sometimes include personal notes like “I don’t know how the Isu work and I don’t care,” which fyi that applies to all my fics, I wouldn’t necessarily tag all the major characters or even all the ships. I didn’t tag any ships for the Children of Kephallonia until a few months ago because I was worried doing so would make it too long, but I got over myself eventually.

I also don’t really tag genres like angst or romance or fluff, although all of my fics tend to be majority fluff, but I think that’s because I don’t think any fic is just angst or just romance or just fluff. There’s always so much emotion in a fic because the author had to have a lot of emotion to write it, and so searching for one specific genre just feels like a disservice to the author a little bit. And tagging it sorta feels like a disservice to me if that makes sense?

9. Thoughts on cliffhangers.

I have a love/hate relationship with cliffhangers, which I’d argue is the norm lol. I think they’re hard to get right though, and while I’ve definitely read some stories that do cliffhangers so well, a lot of times I feel like they’re just mean and done for shock value rather than to add anything of value to the story.

For me though, I don’t feel like I use cliffhangers in my work that much. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that I don’t really see them as cliffhangers? I like to have each chapter tell a relatively self contained story, so any cliffhanger I might have feels less like a cliffhanger and more the natural end of one storyline and the jumping off point for the next, at least to me. Plus I don’t think my work is that groundbreaking or full of twists, so I feel like it’s pretty obvious that whatever trouble the characters find themselves in will be resolved pretty quickly lol.

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

Not going to lie I think these are all pretty weird but they work for me 😂

First off, I act out a lot of my scenes, albeit in my head so my dog and husband don’t look at me weird, kinda moving around the space as I run through and refine dialogue in my head. Like I will legitimately stand on one side of the room pretending to be one character and then go to the other side of the room pretending to be the other. I think it helps me figure out people’s vibe and mannerisms and visualize the scene before I put it onto paper.

I also draw a lot, although I don’t finish a lot of my drawings to the point of being comfortable posting them, but those are more to force me to think about character relationships. For example, for my drawing of Kassandra, Barnabas, and Herodotos all hugging, I sat there for a long time thinking about how they would hug each other, and there’s a lot of symbolism in like the ways their arms are wrapped around each other, at least in my opinion. Down to explain that in the comments if anyone’s interested but that would make this way too long and it’s already too long lol.

Lastly, and I’m not quite sure how to say this without sounding like an asshole, but I literally just write until I can’t write anymore. Like whenever I find myself stuck, whether I’m stuck on a specific line or a transition or even an entire scene, I write XXX and either add a short note or a little drawing about what I’m imagining and move on. And then I’ll go back later and search for every instance where I wrote XXX and fill in the gaps. Or if I’m unsure about which direction I want a scene to go, I will write brief snippets of all my options. Sometimes they aren’t very brief - for example I have five different half written versions of the Arkadia arc of my fic the Children of Kephallonia because I know how I want that storyline to end but I just keep changing my mind about what should happen in the middle RIP.

But if I’m just totally stuck on a story in general, I will literally open up another doc and work on that one, and I do that again and again until I am all out of time or creative writing energy. I’ve talked before about how I have way too many WIPs, but those are also just the ones I talk about. I have a bunch of stories that probably will never see the light of day but are fun to write, like a super weird modern AU or ridiculous crossovers that make no sense or just a bunch of random unconnected scenes of various Kassandra ships. So if I’m stuck on all of my actually published or planned to be published fics, I go work on one of those until I become unstuck on one of my real fics or need to close my laptop/put my phone down for a while. Probably why I’m pretty slow at updating but it works for me!

Imma be honest this doesn’t read overly coherent to me, but I’m really tired and I have a lot going on this week too and so I will probably continue to be tired. So I’m not going to edit 👍🏼 If you would like to read more my semi incoherent ramblings about my fics, more prompts can be found here! These are always fun to do and I could definitely use the mental break this week.

[mirandamckenni1]

I miss her and I blame you - MALINDA ft. Mia Asano (from It's All True - a visual album) VISUAL ALBUM AVAILABLE SOON I'm going on tour!: https://ift.tt/SgKJvUA SUBSCRIBE and hit that bell: https://bit.ly/2OgWtuA Join my Patreon: http://bit.ly/MKRsupport Spotify: https://ift.tt/VEG1Y6i Merch and CDs: https://shopmalinda.com Follow me on: Twitter @missmalindakat https://twitter.com/missmalindakat Facebook https://ift.tt/foIOciS Instagram @missmalindakat https://ift.tt/QEJr4dN TikTok @malindamusic https://ift.tt/FeHQErC For fan mail: 3430 Connecticut Ave NW PO Box 11855 Washington DC 20008 THANK YOU PATRONS!! Aubz Ly Balazs Kis Barnabas Nelson Ben Mobley Beth Hinz Bill Penn Blake Bollaert Bree Campbell Brian Falldin Carole Borum Christian Ashby Cinnder Dan Santoro David W Myers Jr Derek Ramm Ed Banas Elias Zeidan Elizabeth Livingston Eystein Nicolaysen Frank R. Robles Freya Miller Geoffrey Morgan Glenn Patterson Hank van Deventer Hannah Weaver isit 1984 James Copple Jeff Schwarz Joe Fessenden John Floyd John Zimmerman Jonathan Isip Joseph K. Katie Palen Kristen Estes Louis Hansen lunixbochs Lynderyn Maik Borkenhagen Mariah Fyock-Williams Mark McCorkle Marlo Delfin Gonzales Mary Hall Surface Mina Molloy Oliver J. C. Paramadomus Pete Warchol Platinum Band Richard Pitman Russ Billings sam knetsch Sam Waller Sam Willoughby Satenius Scott Bean Spectre Orillion Theodore Ts'o Thomas Lusk Valerie Baxter via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fm8_QwUI2sY

[tanith-rhea]

That I may be weak with you, the masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

🍂Dorothea Delilah Darcy's Visual🍂

Find more about the character, her powers and her personality, here. However, keep in mind that as this is a work in progress, some things might change through the course of the story 💛 If you don't want to be spoiled for some things or prefer to learn about her as you read, then I advise against checking this out. I'm just very fond of her.

🍂And, of course, Sir Barnabas, the main character🍂

This lovely divider was made by star-struck-wonderland and can be found here.

[demivrg]

//Demivrg: independent Final Fantasy XVI roleplaying blog for ULTIMA and BARNABAS THARMR.

Mun: Kkeungi (he/him, they/them) Age: 30+ Timezone: Pacific Standard (UTC−08:00).

-RULES-

This blog is essentially a big spoiler, so those who have yet to finish the game should probably not follow me.

I don't follow for follow and will be very selective with other FFXVI RP blogs.

I block pretty liberally, so don't take it personally- Or if it is personal, I just request you keep your beef with me private (vagueposts do get back to me through mutuals, even if you think you're being real smart and sneaky about it).

All hate will be blocked and deleted.

Triggering subjects will be explored, I will do my best to tag content and use read mores.

Make a new thread if we're continuing an ask answer.

I'm Korean, genderfluid, and a bunch of other stuff- so no racism or bigotry will be tolerated in my space.

I am on the spectrum, so I request you be direct and transparent with me in communicating, because I'm not good at parsing hidden intent or 'socially polite' ways Allistics use to not tell the truth.

I will give out my Discord on a case by case basis for my own protection, I know Tumblr DMs are shitty, but please bear with me until I get to know you a little better.

-ULTIMA-

Ultima is also known as the 'Blind God' and others of their species are also blind. They are able to sense and be aware of the world around them in other ways.

Ultima's kin are known as Archons.

Ultima is 'Ultimalius' and was primarily known as The Architect rather than a 'king'.

Ultima has no gender, though remaining texts writ by the Circle of Malius referred to them using masculine pronouns.

Ultima's species are The Fallen, a civilization of evolved humans who managed to harness the power of 'magic', which is in of itself is a technology (magitek) and a language they developed by communicating with a formless being of energy they believe to be or at least have created the universe as they know it.

Magic is a combination of voicing or writing the 'true words' of forces in the universe (The Eight elements) and imbue them with aether (energy/lifeforce that make up the Eight elements) while using willpower to visualize the outcome. For example, the symbols on the obelisks throughout Valisthea are able to work independently because they are imbued with a deposit of aether and the symbols inscribed channel the aether to do specific things (i.e., fast travel) as formulaic/geometric magic… which explains why they start releasing amounts of aether everywhere after Ultima starts Primogenesis.

Typeless 'magic' uses energy harvested or channeled from the formless energy being that I need to eventually name, but Eikonoklastes still were considered sensitive to or highly attuned to aether enough that they were valued to operate magitek.

The Magitek War was not even a 'war against god', but a war between Ultima's species until they realized they were draining their world of aether (causing death/The Blight) and used magic to assimilate to a higher plane of existence (beings of energy similar to but not the same as the entity they discovered) and became the Ultima Collective. They are the collective will of The Fallen's desire to survive, but also remake a world where they can live peacefully without suffering or death.

-BARNABAS-

Sleipnir is based off of Barnabas' former comrade and best friend, the original Lord Commander of Waloed's cavalry. Sleipnir's core personality is based off of Barnabas' memories of the man, but fails to be a truly perfect re-creation, which is upsetting to both parties involved.*

*Sleipnir roleplayers do not have to go along with this concept, it was an idea I personally wanted to explore having Sleipnir based off/having the memories of another's perception of someone and not matching simply by virtue of being what Barnabas WANTS them to be. I will happily plot with mutuals to follow along with their own personal lore and headcanons for Sleipnir.

Barnabas never wanted to occupy his father's throne, but when he was chosen as Odin's dominant, it became his responsibility to oversee the realm. He's the equivalent of a career soldier, the only time he ever felt truly alive was when he was in the midst of battle and returning to a 'proper civilian' life that involved political schemes and mindless bureaucracy was akin to sleepwalking.

He often feels completely emotionally numb and enters fugue states of depersonalization, which lead to more and more extreme ways to try and 'chase the dragon' in order to experience any kind of emotion- including negative. The act of killing soldiers during war no longer brings him joy, so he slaughtered women and children in order to experience the guilt and despair that came from enacting such profane crimes against humanity. He had members of the court tortured and imprisoned, he even killed his own mother with his bare hands despite harboring a deep familial love for the woman.

Being rendered Akashic by Ultima did not cure him of his lassitude, but gave rise to a more animalistic intensity and hunger for stimulation, which comes out most notably when he finds a truly worthy opponent.

He has been waiting a long time to find someone strong enough to put an end to him, believing that if no mortal man can set him free, then perhaps a God might.

[warmhealerr]

18+ - Minors Do Not Interact.

Adult content sometimes. Even if it weren't the case I just don't want minors here. My Instagram is not my Tumblr.

I am Barnabas, though you can also call me Barney! I use he/they pronouns interchangeably.

I'm a hobbyist who writes and draws. I am currently deep in a DND phase kickstarted by BG3. I am fond of all things Gith- peoples, though Githyanki especially. I also love Deep Gnomes, and undead, go figure.

I am otherwise writing The City Of Dust aka TCOD (name to be changed) which I might post about from time to time. It has been my personal passion project for 7 years now.

If that information matters to you I am a French in France who stays awake at ungodly hours and wants out of here HAHA.

BOUNDARIES/"DNI"

I feel childish adding more to this section for some reason but it is necessary, so might as well get on with it.

I know how to curate my online experience like any other, and I also love dark media and kink, but I genuinely politely ask that you do not follow me (assuming you've read this) if you post or reblog fetish incestuous content. I like quickly checking and/or following people's blogs when it seems we've common interests! There's only so much curating I can do when someone with no specific warnings anywhere on their account does not tag it, which has been a more common occurrence than I'd prefer. This also goes for adult/minor fetish content. Please and thank you.

No gen AI.

I otherwise block whoever I please for reasons completely unrelated to former points. My blog history and bio might give you insight as to what. I also do not like people who revel in being the most shocking, mean spirited, judgemental and edgy in the room.

Finally, petty intercommunity validity discourse is the bane of my existence.

TAG INFO AND MORE UNDER THE CUT

NOTE 1

I suffer from serial social media liking disease. Apologies, I don't mean to spam/be obnoxious.

NOTE 2

I am ND and very mentally ill. My casual everyday (like you are reading right now) writing might be noticeably overcompensating, too cold, too warm, far too descriptive, or redundant alongside suffering at times from poor punctuation and vocabulary (though that is also on the fact English is not my first language). I am well aware though I'm trying to avoid awkwardness, sorry about that.

TUMBLR STUFF

ASKS

I welcome any ask no matter its content (that includes asks of an adult nature).

TAGS

I am God awful at tagging things even though I have been using Tumblr for at least 5 years now. I am especially forgetful when it comes to character or ship tags. This is an attempt at changing that.

#rambling for when I talk about... Nothing.

Feel free to request ship or character tags (as I usually forget them) in my ask inbox. My ship tag format usually goes #x/y.

I usually do not tag suggestive content (I just don't think about it, this blog is already 18+). I will tag explicit adult stuff with #nsft.

Content warning tags will use a single word, like #gore. This is to avoid typing gore cw instead of cw gore (for example) in case someone doesn't have that former tag iteration blocked.

I usually do not phobia tag (I might sometimes tag specific living beings like #bugs or #spiders. It is for archive navigation purposes but perhaps you could find it useful to hide them).

Feel free to request CW tags in my ask inbox.

MY TAGS

#myart for my visual art : from sketches to fully rendered, anything goes. I describe my rendered art for the visually impaired, and/or comprehensive visual clarity for an easier analysis. I usually do not describe sketches especially if posting a bunch of them.

#my writing for any kind of writing I put out. I don't write lots of polished stuff though. It's mostly summaries, script drafts and ideas I use to communicate with myself first, and then other people. It's hardly literature imo.

My individual OC tags go "#charactername tag" for easy navigation purposes.

"#Fist of the Comet" additional tag for Ta'rath post BG3 campaign

"#underdark siblings" for Joufos/Oulmat/Zilkon, their other family members and Oulmat's patron.

#TCOD for TCOD (until name changes).

I will add more tags here once relevant. Thank you.

Ta'rath spin...

[whatithinkaboutdarkshadows]

Episode 616: When a woman has a man in her power

In June 1967, vampire Barnabas Collins locked his victim Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town, in the prison cell in the basement of the Old House on the estate of Collinwood. The ghost of Barnabas’ little sister Sarah appeared to Maggie several times while she was in the cell. Sarah told Maggie that no one could know she had been to the cell, and particularly warned her not to tell her “big…

[robo-writing]

barnabas getting to malenia and getting his shit rocked for the first time: ah….. just like how i used to seek out my (warrior) wife…… this game is realistic in more than its visuals

He starts comparing his wife to malenia mid fight and it always causes him to get distracted and die. You’re cheering him on from the sidelines and he’s caught between beating the boss and paying attention to you 😩

[styrmwb]

Beat FFXVI last night (spoilers and lots of rambling ahead)

"I liked it, but" is pretty much how I felt about the game. It had very high highs, there were a lot of things about it I liked, but something about it soured it for me. And I think the fact that I was so excited for it, but it didn't fully land made that feel worse overall. I also think the game didn't come out at a good time for Me Specifically, because it is a very intense, pay full attention and give all your energy to game. I can't really chill with it after work or do other things while playing it, and honestly I haven't really been wanting to play action games much recently. I do think in the future I'll be able to look back at it more fondly than now.

Things that I liked: visually, holy shit. Every Eikon Battle, every zone, they fucking killed it. If this was just like, a show? Oh my god amazing beautiful 10/10. The Bahamut battle and the final boss were two standouts to me especially. Fuck. It's so cool.

The characters. While I wish some got a little better treatment (More Benedikta and Barnabas, maybe like, solo Jill sections where you play as her?), overall I cared so much about the whole cast. Clive and Joshua together was one of my favorite relationships cause you can tell that they cared for and loved each other so much and goddammit they deserved to be happy together. Even the characters that I thought were just gonna be on the side, like Gav or Byron (I did not expect them to be so prominent but fuck yes) or really anyone in the hideout, I really did appreciate everything about them. The game felt like it had a party despite only Clive being playable.

The music. I mean, of fucking course the music. Soken and his team can do no wrong. I was originally scared it was gonna be... generic? But my fears were unfounded. Find the Flame; banger. Into the Mire? Might be my favorite song tbh they went so hard for the First Dungeon. The ENTIRE Titan fight? God DAMN

Eikon abilities. When I really got them going, I was having a lot of fun in combat. I ended up running Phoenix (Gouge, Rising Flames); Bahamut (Ice Age, Upheaval); Titan (Raging Fists, Flames of Rebirth). I would dodge up to raise Megaflare level, then go crazy go stupid with all of the other abilities, looking super cool and exploding everything around me. Felt fucking awesome.

Finally, story. It was definitely a more generic FF story, gather all the crystals (by smashing them), get the summons, kill god, but I liked it. But I think if the super cool big moments weren't as cool and I didn't care about the characters as much, it wouldn't be anything special. Those parts of it were so stellar though.

Uhhhh haha now the part I'm still struggling with. What didn't I like. What soured this experience specifically. One thing I know didn't help (that I'm sure people are sick of hearing about) was the lack of exploration and open world. I wish there was more side bits, I wish there was like, FFXI/XII/XIV style zone transitions. I wish it was closer to XII/XV, or if it went full action and was more like Stranger of Paradise. Instead, it just feels like a sad middle ground that doesn't quite excel at the world or the levels.

Side quests. Again, common complaint. But they were just... a slog. I appreciated what they did for the world. I appreciate the characters they gave us. But they were just... so common, and so boring. It felt like a chore, "goddammit I gotta clear out 5 sidequests let's waste 2 hours woooooo" agh. XIV does the same thing where they are quests purely for world building, but actually doing them kinda sucks. Makes sense, same team.

Combat outside of Eikon Abilities. There's nothing particularly wrong with it? I think the reason I didn't really care for it was more on my end, I didn't want to play an action game. I can't dock this against the game, but I can say it was part of the reason I didn't enjoy it as much.

I'm sure there's more, but I'm struggling to quite pinpoint what it is. There's not much about the game I didn't like, but what I did was so heavy that it made the game almost... a chore to pick up. I would usually be fine once I got into the groove, but the fact that I felt that feels so shitty.

I think if I had to rate this game in my imaginary FF tier list that I haven't made fully yet cause I can't pick between some of my children, I think I liked it a little more than XIII (stronger highs), and a little less than XV (weaker gameplay). Didn't match the hype, but I did Get Hyped.

[demifiendrsa]

FINAL FANTASY XVI - REVENGE Trailer

Japanese version

Final Fantasy XVI will launch for PlayStation 5 on June 22, 2023.

Game editions

Physical Standard Edition

Full Game – Base game package, including reversible cover art.

Physical Deluxe Edition

Full Game – Base game package, including reversible cover art

Special Clive Rosfield Steelbook Case – A SteelBook case featuring artwork of Clive Rosfield, the protagonist.

Cloth Map of Valisthea – A cloth map of Valisthea where the story unfolds.

Collector’s Edition (Square Enix Store-exclusive, pre-orders open December 12, 2022)

Full Game – Base game package, including reversible cover art.

Collector’s Box – A beautiful metallic-sheen box featuring impressive artwork by legendary Final Fantasy series illustrator, Yoshitaka Amano.

Premium Statue: Phoenix vs. Ifrit – A premium statue depicting a battle between two eikons, Phoenix and Ifrit.

Metal Eikon Pin Collection – A premium metal pin collection featuring eight Eikons.

Special Clive Rosfield Steelbook Case – A SteelBook case featuring artwork of Clive Rosfield, the protagonist.

Cloth Map of Valisthea – A cloth map of Valisthea where the story unfolds.

In-Game Weapon “Blood Sword” – The fabled scarlet steel of Firion, hero of Final Fantasy II.

Digital Mini Art Book

Digital Mini Soundtrack

Digital Standard Edition

Full Game

Digital Deluxe Edition

Full Game

Digital Mini Art Book

Digital Mini Soundtrack

Pre-Order bonuses include:

Weapon “Braveheart”

Accessory “Cait Sith Charm” – Increases the amount of gill you can get when equipped

Accessory “Scholar’s Spectacles” (not included with physical Standard or Deluxe editions) – Increases the amount of experience points you can gain when equipped.

Additionally, the following bonuses will also be available at the listed retailers:

Square Enix Store – The Realms of Valisthea Wall Banners (six-inches height printed cloth banners)

GameStop – The Realms of Valisthea Patches (2.5-inches height printed cloth patches)

Best Buy – Final Fantasy XVI Pre-Order SteelBook

Cast

Clive Rosfield (child) (voiced by Benn Starr in English, Yuma Uchida in Japanese)

Clive Rosfield (young adult) (voiced by Benn Starr in English, Yuuya Uchida in Japanese)

Joshua Rosfield (voiced by Logan Hannan in English, Natsumi Fujiwara in Japanese)

Jill Warrick (child) (voiced by Charlotte McBurney in English, Megumi Han in Japanese)

Jill Warrick (young adult) (voiced by Susannah Fielding in English, Megumi Han in Japanese)

Torgal

Cidolfus Telamon (voiced by Ralph Ineson in English, Hiroshi Shirokuma in Japanese)

Benedikta Harman (voiced by Nina Yndis in English, Akari Higuchi in Japanese)

Hugo Kupka (voiced by Alex Lanipekun in English, Yasuhiro Mamiya in Japanese)

Dion Lesage (voiced by Stewart Clarke in English, Yuichi Nakamura in Japanese)

Barnabas Tharmr (voiced by David Menkin in English, Gotaro Tsunashima in Japanese)

Key visual

Screenshots

Overview

Final Fantasy XVI introduces gamers to an all-new standalone story in the Final Fantasy universe, an epic dark fantasy world that takes place in the realm of Valisthea—a land blessed in the light of the Mothercrystals, and where peace falters as the spread of the Blight threatens to destroy their dominions. The fate of the land is decided by the Eikons, powerful and deadly creatures, and their Dominants, men and women who have been blessed with the ability to call upon and wield them. This is the tale of Clive Rosfield, a warrior granted the title “First Shield of Rosaria” and sworn to protect his younger brother Joshua, the Dominant of the Phoenix, Eikon of Fire. Before long, Clive will be caught up in a great tragedy and swear revenge on the Dark Eikon Ifrit, a mysterious entity that brings calamity in its wake.

Latest details via The PlayStation Blog

Final Fantasy XVI is an epic dark fantasy world that takes place in the realm of Valisthea—a land blessed in the light of the Mothercrystals, and where peace falters as the spread of the Blight threatens to destroy their dominions. The fate of the land is decided by the Eikons, mighty summoned beasts, and their Dominants, men and women who have been blessed with the ability to call upon and wield them.

This is the tale of Clive Rosfield, a warrior granted the title “First Shield of Rosaria” and sworn to protect his younger brother Joshua, the Dominant of the Phoenix, Eikon of Fire. Before long, Clive will be caught up in a great tragedy and swear revenge on the Dark Eikon Ifrit, a mysterious entity that brings calamity in its wake.

Jump into Action-Packed Battles with Impressive Eikonic Powers

As the first full-fledged action RPG in the Final Fantasy series, designed for the PlayStation 5, Final Fantasy XVI features unique battle systems where you can fight, not only utilizing Eikonic powers woven into your swordplay, but also controlling Eikons yourself! Switch between Clive’s Eikon skills one after another in speedy real-time action battles and participate in dynamic battles taking on the role of an Eikon as they clash against each other. You’ll spot some of the new systems we’re introducing in the game in the trailer above. You can learn more about them below and discover how they’ll help you fight fire with fire (among other elements)!

Titanic Clashes

When rival Dominants come head to head, epic battles between their Eikons ensue!

Eikonic Action

Clive utilizes the powers of multiple Eikons in breakneck battle!

Play Your Way

Myriad accessibility options allow anyone to experience Clive’s adventure—from seasoned action gamers to those who just want to enjoy the story.

We’re introducing a Story-focused mode, recommended for those players who are less comfortable with action games and wish to focus more on the game’s story elements. In this mode, Clive will automatically evade some attacks, and epic Eikonic combos can be triggered with simple button presses. Action-focused mode, where Clive’s every action is controlled by the player, is available for those who are confident in their skill—or want to test it!

A Hero’s Best Friend

Trusty Torgal takes to the field.

Another outcast from the Northern Territories taken in by House Rosfield, Torgal was found alone in a snowfield during one of Archduke Elwin’s expeditions to the freezing north, and gifted to his sons upon his return. After somehow surviving the disaster that nearly ended the Rosfield line, he was reunited with Clive over a decade later, and now serves his master with the same fierce loyalty he did when he was but a pup.

In battle, Clive’s faithful hound Torgal is never far from his side—and when enemies approach, he does not quail. Not only can Torgal attack enemies, but he can also mend Clive’s wounds—and if Clive times his orders right, the two can prove a devastating duo.

The Nore the Merrier

Because sometimes, fighting fate is more than a one-man job.

At certain points in his adventure, Clive will be joined by certain stalwart allies who will fight alongside him—the composition of his party changing as the story develops. Unlike Torgal, these party members do not take orders directly from the player, but fight as they see fit.

One of these party members, Cidolfus Telamon, known to his friends as “Cid,” is a soldier turned outlaw that strives to build a place where persecuted magick casters—Bearers, and exploited Dominants can die on their own terms. A man of science, he also conducts research into how one might live in the deadlands—as he and his band of fellow heretics must. Cid is also a Dominant—the power of the Eikon Ramuh having awoken within him shortly after he landed on Valisthean shores. No doubt it was this power that saw him rise through the ranks of the Royal Waloeder Army—where it would seem he crossed paths with a certain Benedikta Harman…

[lowlylux]

I Am A Sinner (You Are a Saint

Chapter Nineteen | Never a God

Ship: HeiKazuScara

Rating: E

Status: In Progress

Word Count: 6.8k

Description:

“You shall be cast out of the heavenly realm indefinitely.”

Kunikuzushi feels arms grab his own as he is forced to his feet. He struggles, keeping his eyes on his mother only. “Mother! Don’t let them do this!” The guards continue to drag him away, even if it is a struggle. “Mother!” He knows the gate to the human realm is growing closer to him. The more time passes, the less chance he has to escape. But the divine never back out of their decisions…never. He looks to his mother one last time, hoping that she at least looks at him. But her gaze refuses to meet his own.

When he is finally cast out, the air rushing past his entire body, he could only visualize his mother’s pained expression.

He has never felt so alone…

link

“Ei, listen to me,” Miko implores, her voice trembling as she does so.

“No, what you’re saying is…” Ei trails off, pacing around.  Her thoughts overwhelm her, a mixture of anxiety and disbelief.  She stops, looking at Yae Miko with wide, confused, eyes.  “Why didn’t you tell me you made a deal with her?”

“She wanted me to protect him,” Miko stresses, grabbing onto Ei’s hands, as if that would anchor them both into this moment.  It forces the other angel to look at her fully.  “Ei, I can’t just ignore her wishes, you know I can’t.  An agreement must be fulfilled.”  Her grip tightens, as if it would convey her helplessness in this situation.

“So you’re just going to die?  That’s it?”  Ei’s voice is sharp, but Miko knows she does not mean it.  Miko knows that the angel is just scared.

“To save your son, yes,” Miko says stubbornly, refusing to let go of her hands.  “Scaramouche will die without me intervening.”

“And he will die when you do,” Ei mutters, refusing to look the woman in the eye.  The weight of the truth settles in the air, as if it was meant to be there this entire time, taking refuge in their suffering.  “Miko he’s sealed…He doesn’t stand a chance being like that.”

“Then break the seal.” Miko’s eyes gleam with determination.

“What?”

Miko squeezes Ei, attempting to comfort the angel best she can.  “When I fulfill my deal with Barnabas, destroy the seal.”

“Celestia will be furious.”

“Then let them be furious.”  Miko’s voice does not waver…and Ei, well she cannot say no to her, especially when she is right.  They both know that.

Ei rests her forehead onto Miko's, closing her eyes as she just takes in the presence of her lover.  It just feels so precious, so fleeting in a way Ei regrets not savoring it more.  “Miko…I’ll miss you.”

“Who knows?  There have been crazier reincarnations.” Miko jokes, attempting to lighten both of their moods.  

“That’s what you’re hoping for?” Ei questions, lifting her head so that she can place a soft kiss onto Miko’s forehead.  “Reincarnation?”

“At least then I can just tell you that I’ll see you later.”

Finally, Ei meets Miko’s eyes, her own filled with unshed tears, a mix of sadness and gratitude swirling within. “I’ll see you later, Miko.” The weight of their unspoken fears and dreams hangs between them, a painful reminder of what they stand to lose. In that moment, the world around them fades, leaving only their shared love and the inevitability of their choices echoing in the silence.

And Ei’s composure almost fully shatters when Miko presses a cherry blossom into her palm.

●•·•●

Childe throws himself in front of the bullet, wincing as it pierces his flesh.  He collapses for a moment, taking a few deep breaths as tries to ground himself.

“You don’t have to do this…”

Kazuha doesn’t know whether he is talking to the Tsaritsa or himself, but either way he can stubbornly say the idea is ludicrous.  

“Childe…” she says, shaking her head at the lesser demon.  She kneels, grabbing his face harshly so that he is forced to look at her.  Childe’s eyes widen for a moment, a look of realization flashing through his features before going back to his not-quite-neutral expression.  Her voice has an almost sing-song-like nature: dangerous and unpredictable.  “Ruin the fun again and I’m afraid our little deal is void.”

“You said…”

“That I would keep your witch alive, not anyone else.  And it is on my own terms.”

“Yes ma’am,” Childe mutters, forcing himself to his feet.  He sighs, his shoulders dropping.  The demon looks uncomfortable, glancing between Kazuha and the Tsaritsa.  “The bullets won’t hurt her.”

“They hurt you.”

“It’s funny that you think we are anywhere close to one another,” Childe says, refusing to meet Kazuha’s eyes.  “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”

“Don’t worry Childe, I’ll save the last one for you.” Kazuha shoots again, this time striking his target.  The Tsaritsa stumbles backwards, putting a hand on the wound that Kazuha just created.

She lets out a shaky breath, stumbling even more as she stares at the human in shock.  She raises a hand to show off just a small amount of blood, a mixture of gold and black.  Her smile drops as she flicks the bullet away, a bored expression back on.

“I had thought it would have a more dramatic effect,” she sighs, taking a step forward.  “Shall we try again?  Maybe I could act more shocked when you do it?  Or maybe I could scream?  How entertaining would that be?”

Kazuha glances at the blood on her hand, the sick satisfaction that he caused that.  He knows some of the most powerful beings of the time yet he made her bleed.  He did that, a human who still is not fully grasping everything going on around him.

The Tsaritsa notices his stare, lifting up her hand.  “Do you want me to bleed more?  I can deepen the wound, let you see it start to pool.”

“Shut…up…”

He shoots again, the bullet going toward her head.  It doesn’t even impact this time, the demon simply brushing it off as if it were a pesky, bothersome fly.  “That isn’t very nice.  I’m trying to make this enjoyable for you.”

“Why do you have to go after me?”

“Hmm?”

“Your witch used my mother to try and summon you.  He framed my best friend for murder.  He tried to kill one of my boyfriends and you just killed the second.  Why me?”

“Oh you poor human…” The Tsarista mutters, clicking her tongue.  “It just simply isn’t about you.”  Kazuha’s grip tightens around the gun, refusing to lower it.  But he lets her talk, something he knows he should not do.  “I pity you, thinking that you have any sort of importance.”

“So it was all a coincidence?”

“I’m afraid you just have bad luck.” The Tsaritsa says with a grin that makes Kazuha’s skin crawl.  He drops his arm, not letting go of the gun but feeling defeated.  “That’s all?” The Tsaritsa frowns at his actions.  “I was hoping for a little more bite…oh well.”

The Tsaritsa raises her hand, power emanating from her.  Kazuha closes his eyes, ready for the inevitable end.  He waits for darkness to forever cloud his vision, already wondering how Heizou will take the loss.

Oh Heizou…how he wishes he were here but at the same time is glad the man is somewhere else.  Perhaps he has a fighting chance.  Although, Kazuha knows that most likely is not the case, he has hope, as hope is the only absolute in a situation like this.  There will always be a small glimmer of it, no matter how impossible the situation is.

It changes depending on the circumstances.  One moment It is there, the next a faint glimmer, and then finally—miraculously—it persists until it is a blazing uncontrollable fire, unable to be ignored.

The end does not come, for Scaramouche is standing directly in front of him, a golden barrier encasing both of them that is able to front the blast.

●•·•●

A structure is placed at a demon’s feet.  It does not know how to react, instead left to stare in shock as a figure is raised into the air, the life being forcefully taken from the demon when the same figure leaps, a bullet piercing the demon’s skull.

Heizou takes a deep breath, ignoring the faint pain in his ankle from that last leap.  Was that ideal?  Absolutely not, but they stopped another demon from crossing the spell threshold so that is definitely a win.  “You know, those abilities of yours sure are useful.”

“I’m aware.”

“Really?” Heizou asks, his face scrunching up because of the answer.  “No thank you?”

“Why would I thank you for something I already knew?”  Albedo questions, tilting his head.  “I may not be the same rank as Childe but that does not negate the fact that-“

“Usually when someone compliments you, it is best to thank them even if you were well aware.  It’s to avoid seeming egotistical.”

“Ah, I understand then.  Thank you I suppose.”

“You’re welcome.”  Heizou mutters, glancing behind himself.  The sky still bleeds, stretching along as if a bucket were spilled.  He sees the snow fall, pieces of the grass disappearing as if it were never there.  

It is cold.

It is hot.

It is windy.

It is calm.

It is chaotic.

“They didn’t succeed, did they?” Heizou asks quietly, not really expecting any kind of response from Albedo whatsoever.  He just stares ahead, the exact location where he knows his loved ones are standing.  They are fighting while he is stuck on the sidelines.  He promised Scaramouche, yes, but this just seems utterly ridiculous.

“I don’t suppose they did,” Albedo says quietly to himself, also staring intently.  “Did I tell you there’s a chance Kaeya could lose his magic today?”

Heizou raises a brow, wondering what Albedo is getting at.  “What do you mean?”

“Kaeya imbued his magic with demonic energy in order to summon me,” Albedo says as if that is the most obvious thing in the world.  “His magic is purely demonic, it’s why he needs me most of the time for his spells.  Witches were never meant to wield demonic energy….” Heizou barely catches a glimpse of it, but Albedo looks as if he regrets saying that.

And that makes Heizou wonder if Albedo enjoys his current situation.  He is sure that Albedo likes…whatever it is that Kaeya and him have going on.  Honestly, Heizou really cannot tell if the two are together or not.  However, based on how regretful Albedo looks, Heizou does wonder how happy the two are.

Albedo frowns.  “If he loses his magic I fear my tether will fray.”  The demon shakes his head, sighing.  “He should have never summoned me twice.”

“But he would have been alone if he didn’t.”

“He’d still have his brother and father,” Albedo replies, frowning at his own words.  “Our worlds simply should not interact as much as we do.”

And now the demon has Heizou frowning at such a statement.  “Don’t say that…have you seen Childe with Diluc and Zhongli?  They’re all absolutely revolting with eachother at some points.  You can’t tell me they’re not meant to be with eachother.”

“They have their own troubles.”

“What about Kazuha and I with Scaramouche then?” Heizou presses on getting a bit agitated.  “You can’t tell me we weren’t supposed to interact.”

“Scaramouche is slowly becoming more human than you know.”

“Albedo I’m trying to understand your point here but it sounds absolutely moronic.”

“I am a demon born from the realm, I had never intended to stay here.  There have been witches that have tried to tether me but Kaeya is the first to succeed.  Childe is a human, no matter his attributes now.  Internally he is still wonderfully human, that is why he thrives in this realm.  Scaramouche is an angel who found his home here because the angelic realm never truly was that for him.” Albedo shifts uncomfortably.  “My home will always be the demonic realm and I do not regret saying that.”

But Heizou does not buy it.  The calm exterior, the neutral tone, the harsh words…all of it.  Heizou knows when someone is hiding something, it is his job to figure out those kinds of things.  “You’re really worried about Kaeya, huh?”

Albedo just nods, narrowing his eyes at the approaching apocalypse seemingly never halting its ever increasing reach.  “Be careful about the snow.”

“What?”

“You’re going to go after them, no?” Albedo questions.  “Avoid the snow.”

“How do I do that exactly?”

Albedo shrugs, already walking away.  “I can continue on with the plan…just keep your angel safe alright?” He pauses, turning toward Heizou again.  “Check on Kaeya for me?”

Heizou smiles, nodding.  He can do that.  He steps forward, toward the danger that is telling every single cell in his body that he should run.  But he continues on, and as the snow threatens him, he realizes that it does not touch him.

For a golden shield surrounds him the moment the first flake attempts to touch his skin.

●•·•●

Kazuha stares in disbelief, his mind struggling to make sense of the surreal scene unfolding before him. Before him stands Scaramouche, multiple pairs of wings now sprouting from his back, their feathered edges shimmering in the dim light like something straight out of a nightmare. He stands there, panting heavily, the effort of keeping himself upright taking its toll. His body trembles as though the weight of his own existence is too much to bear, yet somehow, the shield that surrounds him flickers but holds firm, glowing a brilliant gold. 

The Tsaritsa, her voice laced with sadistic pleasure, laughs with a chilling, triumphant edge. “It’s good to s-” she begins, but her words are cut short by a sudden burst of golden light that erupts from Scaramouche's form. His eyes are wide with fury, and though his body sways, he glares at her, determination burning in his gaze. The shield, despite the onslaught, holds steady as he pulls himself to his feet, though each movement seems to cost him more than the last. 

“How does it feel?” the Tsaritsa taunts, her voice dripping with mockery. “Every cell in your body is being torn apart, regenerated—improving.” 

Scaramouche doesn’t answer. Instead, with what little strength he has left, he lunges again, his movements jerky and desperate. His strike misses, the Tsaritsa easily dodging as if it were a mere dance. Scaramouche stumbles, crashing to the ground in a heap. The golden light that surrounds him flickers again, but it doesn’t fade. He struggles to rise, his hands shaking as he presses them to the ground, his breaths shallow and ragged. 

Kazuha watches in silent horror, his heart tightening in his chest. It’s only then that he truly comprehends the full extent of Scaramouche’s condition. Golden blood trickles from his nose, his mouth, even from his eyes—an unsettling sight that only serves to reinforce the idea that he is in a far worse state than he appears. His body is a patchwork of wounds, his form barely holding together. Yet despite it all, there is an unyielding fire in his eyes, a refusal to succumb to the agony that would have broken lesser beings long ago. How is he still standing? How is he still fighting? 

Another desperate attack—another miss. Scaramouche’s frustration is palpable, his teeth gritted in a snarl of pure rage. He’s not just fighting to win; he’s fighting for survival, and with each failed strike, the anger seems to burn brighter within him. But no matter how hard he tries, no matter how much he pushes his broken body, he can’t seem to land a blow. The Tsaritsa dances just out of reach, her movements precise and effortless, mocking him with every dodge. 

For a moment, Kazuha is struck by a thought—how is Scaramouche even conscious right now? With every attack, every movement, it seems as if his body should be on the verge of collapse, yet he pushes forward, unwilling to stop, unwilling to give in. His will is the only thing that’s keeping him going, but for how much longer? 

And suddenly, without a warning, arms wrap the Tsaritsa’s waist, forcing her to stay in one spot.  She struggles, groaning to no avail as she is stuck to stare at the sudden aggressor.  Childe stands behind her, eyes wide, holding her in place.

“Take the shot!”

“You’ll die,” the Tsaritsa says in a panic, struggling to escape the grasp of her harbinger.  Yet Childe stands firms, tightening his grip.  “Tartaglia-“

“Scara,” Childe says, ignoring her, obviously struggling.  He stares at the angel, not receiving a singular look of shock back at him.  The demon nods, obviously taking a deep breath.  “Please.

The angel nods, lifting his hand, ready to end this.  The light gathers at his fingertips, threatening to spill out.  But before it can be released, the Tsaritsa is let go.

Childe is pushed away, right into the awaiting arms of Diluc before both demon and witch disappear completely.  Scaramouche stands in shock, glaring at the newcomer with disdain.  “I had the shot.”

Yet Zhongli does not reply.

●•·•●

Childe’s body gives way under the weight of his own stress, and he collapses to the ground, forcing Diluc back with an almost violent shove. His breaths are ragged and shallow, each inhale coming faster than the last as his mind struggles to catch up. Panic grips him, and he finds himself sitting there, frozen in place, unable to do anything but breathe.

Diluc hesitates, then moves closer, concern etching deep into his face. But before he can lay a hand on him, Childe swats him away with a force that seems born more of desperation than anything. His eyes are wild, his body trembling. “I had her,” Childe says, his voice strained, as if trying to convince himself of something. “I had her, Diluc.”

“You were going to fucking die,” Diluc retorts sharply, his voice thick with frustration and fear. He reaches for Childe’s shoulder, gripping it firmly and forcing him to meet his gaze. “What did you expect us to do?”

Childe’s eyes dart to the side, as though the question itself was something absurd. “Let me die?” he asks, his tone flat, but beneath the words is a deep weariness. To him, the answer seems as obvious as breathing. In that moment, Childe is lost in his own mind, unraveling before Diluc’s eyes, his body jerking as he tries to push away the man’s grasp. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry…”

Diluc’s heart tightens, and without thinking, he moves quickly to steady Childe, his hand cupping the younger man’s face in a firm but gentle grip. The action isn’t harsh, but it’s enough to stop Childe’s frantic movements, forcing him to focus, if only for a moment. “Why did you try to stop her?” Diluc asks quietly, his voice softened by concern but still carrying an edge of confusion.

Childe looks up at him, his eyes red-rimmed, and for a moment, it’s as if the words are stuck in his throat. Then, finally, he speaks, the tremor in his voice unmistakable. “She’s not my queen,” Childe says, and his face twists with the weight of the words, like a wound that won’t heal. “She’s not the one who freed me from Pantalone. My face… she grabbed my face…”

Diluc frowns, confused. “I just grabbed your face,” he says, his brow furrowing in concern. 

But Childe doesn’t hear him. Instead, he grabs Diluc’s hand and repositions it on his face, forcing him to mirror the gesture in a way that makes Diluc’s stomach twist. The sensation is like a jolt of electricity running through him, and for a moment, he’s left speechless. Childe’s eyes are frantic, but there’s a raw, painful truth in them that he can’t ignore. “She grabbed my face,” Childe repeats, his voice shaky. It’s not a request for understanding, but a desperate plea for acknowledgment, a cry from deep within.

The moment passes, and Childe suddenly lets go of Diluc’s hand. With a quiet, defeated gasp, he shifts away, his back hitting the rough bark of a tree, and he slides down to the ground, crumpling there in a heap. He pulls his knees to his chest, his body curled in on itself as though trying to protect whatever’s left of his broken spirit. “You should’ve sent me back,” he mutters bitterly.

Diluc stares at him, disoriented. “Excuse me?” His voice trembles slightly, but it’s laced with confusion.

Childe doesn’t look up, his voice a quiet, tormented whisper. “All of this is my fault…” His breath hitches. “That stupid spell…” Tears begin to well in his eyes, spilling down his face. “She knew about Scaramouche before he even… I didn’t know what to do…”

Diluc’s heart clenches. He takes a step forward, his movements deliberate, as if trying to bridge the gap that’s formed between them. He kneels down beside Childe, reaching out to take his hand in his. His grip is firm, his touch warm against the coldness of Childe’s shaking fingers. “Childe, listen to me,” Diluc says, his voice low but full of conviction. “I’m pissed about a lot of things, but I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry if I made you worry about telling the truth.”

The words catch Childe off guard, and he looks up at Diluc with a mixture of disbelief and longing. “You are perfect, Diluc,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper as he moves closer, drawn to the warmth of Diluc’s presence. “I was scared.”

Diluc’s heart softens at the admission. “And you shouldn’t have been,” he says quietly, his thumb brushing over the back of Childe’s hand, offering a comfort that only seems to deepen the tension between them.

“I will always be scared,” Childe replies, his voice breaking as he squeezes Diluc’s hand in return. “I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t mean for this all to happen.”

Diluc doesn’t answer right away, his gaze steady as he looks at Childe. After a long silence, he smiles, though it’s tinged with sadness. “Why did you make a deal with her?” he asks, his voice soft but searching.

Childe laughs bitterly, the sound hollow in the still air. “She’s my queen,” he says, the words heavy with the weight of the past. “She said it would be simple. I just wanted you safe from any crossfire. I didn’t think she’d hurt Scara.”

Diluc nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “It’s okay,” he says, though the words taste bitter on his tongue.

“It’s not,” Childe insists, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I should’ve come to you. I should’ve trusted you. I was stupid…”

“We just have to work on talking with each other,” Diluc says with a half-smile, squeezing Childe’s hand tighter. “That’s all.”

Childe manages a smile in return, though it’s fragile, almost fleeting. His face falls again, his brow furrowing with sudden concern. “Did we leave Zhongli there?” he asks, the question hanging in the air like a reminder of the battle that still looms over them.

“That’s your concern?” a new voice interrupts, smooth and dripping with mockery. Childe immediately stiffens, his posture going rigid as he slowly turns to face the source. Standing there, smirking with that insufferable self-assurance, is Pantalone.

Childe’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing in disdain. “What do you want?” he spits out, his voice sharp and cold, a barrier of hostility forming between them. His body subtly shifts to place Diluc behind him, a protective instinct kicking in without thought. The last thing he wants is for the man beside him to get caught up in whatever game Pantalone is playing this time.

Pantalone’s smirk widens as he leans in slightly, his tone a mockingly cheerful drawl. “Just wanted to offer my congratulations,” he says, his voice a silk-threaded taunt. “I don’t think the queen will be forgiving you anytime soon. Treason never sits well, you know. Though I suppose you’ve been trying to find a way out of this realm for some time, haven’t you?”

Childe’s entire body shakes with barely contained fury. His hand twitches at his side, a spear materializes in his grip, its gleaming edge aimed directly at Pantalone. The air around them crackles with tension, and for a brief, electrifying moment, it seems like things might escalate into violence. “Stay away from me,” Childe growls, his voice low and venomous. “Or was that not clear the other twenty times you’ve tried to taunt me over the last few centuries?”

Pantalone doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even take the spear seriously, barely acknowledging its existence as he nonchalantly waves it away. “Oh, I will. But there’s no fun in fighting you like some rabid dog, Childe,” he says, his tone condescending. “I want to leave this place, but our queen… well, she’s gone and ruined things, hasn’t she?”

Childe’s eyes narrow, sensing a crack in Pantalone’s usual calm. “What do you mean?” he asks, his voice a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

Pantalone’s smile turns into a sneer. “She made Dottore a demon,” he says, absolutely annoyed with the fact.

“You didn’t know?”  Childe grins, not at all stunned by the revelation. “That’s why she left the second spot open,” Childe says, a dark satisfaction bubbling up in his chest. “She was always planning to bring him back, a little reward for success.”

Pantalone’s smile falters just slightly, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “Yet here I am, still stuck in this hellhole,” he mutters bitterly. He crosses his arms, seeming to consider something for a moment before his gaze shifts to Childe again. “You don’t have anything useful to say, do you? This changes nothing.”

Childe’s grin widens, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he says with an almost playful tone. “Stay around here long enough, and you might get caught in the crossfire when Scaramouche banishes her.”

Pantalone hesitates, clearly weighing the odds. He’s silent for a moment, his eyes glinting with something between calculation and disdain. Finally, he shakes his head, turning away with a dismissive wave of his hand. “If you’re lying…” His voice grows cold, his gaze turning sharp as a blade. “I will find you, Childe. And I will tear your angel’s wings from his back.”

Childe’s smile morphs into something darker, a challenge in his eyes. “Try it,” he says, the words laced with defiance. “I dare you.”

Pantalone chuckles, the sound rich with amusement, before turning and walking away, his steps confident, leaving behind only the echo of his laughter. “I hope to never see you again, Childe,” he calls over his shoulder.

And just like that, he disappears into the shadows, leaving Childe standing there with a wicked grin.

●•·•●

Scaramouche and Zhongli lock eyes, neither of them willing to make the first move. The air is thick with tension, the weight of centuries of history and unspoken animosity hanging between them. Scaramouche's posture is rigid, his wings twitching, ready for action at any moment. Zhongli remains calm, his expression unreadable, his presence a pillar of stoic resolve. 

After a long, silent standoff, Zhongli steps forward, breaking the stalemate. Without a word, he moves toward Kazuha and sits beside him, his movements slow and deliberate. As he does, a powerful shield surrounds them both, a shimmering barrier of energy that flickers with the force of the earth itself. The shield is far stronger than Scaramouche’s own, and as the radiant light intensifies, the pressure around him eases. 

Grateful for the protection, Scaramouche nods toward Zhongli. The other angel acknowledges him with a slight tilt of his head but says nothing, leaving Scaramouche to focus once more on the Tsaritsa. He takes a deep breath, his wings unfolding behind him, the air vibrating with the hum of raw energy.

With a flick of his wrist, Scaramouche allows some of his feathers to detach, falling like falling stars in a chaotic pattern. In a fluid motion, he snaps his fingers, and in an instant, the scattered feathers erupt into thousands of beams of light, each one sharp and precise, aimed directly at the Tsaritsa. It’s a far more refined version of the attack he used on Pantalone—an attack that feels like a distant memory now, an eternity ago. 

He shakes his head, dismissing the fleeting thought. Now is not the time for distractions.

The Tsaritsa reacts swiftly, her movements graceful but sharp, dodging the beams with expert precision. A few of the beams manage to graze her, leaving shallow cuts on her skin, but she evades most of them with remarkable agility. Blood drips down her face, a grim reminder of the battle’s ferocity, but she wipes it away with a cold determination, her eyes never leaving Scaramouche.

He watches her carefully, taking two of the falling feathers and shaping them into daggers of light. The blades materialize in his hands, their edges glowing with lethal intent.

"Taking inspiration from Childe, I see..." the Tsaritsa muses, her voice laced with amusement. 

Scaramouche grins mischievously, shrugging before he suddenly lunges toward her. His movements are swift and unpredictable, staying high and striking with a combination of quick swipes and expertly timed kicks. He’s relentless, forcing her to stay on her toes, constantly reacting to his agile attacks. The speed at which he moves makes it hard for her to defend, each strike coming just fast enough to keep her off balance.

But she doesn’t falter. Lowering her stance, she keeps her focus sharp, anticipating his next move. She dodges, parries, and counters with surprising agility of her own, refusing to let his quick strikes break through her defense. Though she’s at a disadvantage in speed, her positioning and control of the space around her keep the fight from tipping in his favor.

It’s a clash of styles: Scaramouche, fluid and unpredictable, and her, steady and deliberate. Every strike, every movement tells the story of two warriors locked in a dance, neither willing to yield—each trying to outmaneuver the other in a battle of wits as much as skill.

But Scaramouche is undeterred. He changes tactics, using his speed to his advantage, darting in and out of her reach, pushing her to her limits. He strikes from unpredictable angles, not allowing her a single breath to recover. But even as he launches attack after attack, she meets him blow for blow, her counters expertly timed and executed.  In a burst of movement, he leaps again, aiming to catch her off-guard.

He wraps his arms around her neck, locking her into a powerful hold and yanking her harshly toward the ground. They hit the earth with a heavy thud, both of them winded by the effort, their breath coming in ragged gasps. Scaramouche doesn’t relent, though. He holds the blade to her throat, his face inches from hers, his chest heaving with the strain of the battle.

For a long moment, the Tsaritsa doesn’t move. She simply stares at him, unblinking, her eyes filled with a mixture of contempt and something else—maybe pride, maybe resignation. Then, to his surprise, she laughs, the sound soft and chilling.

“Do it,” she says, her voice steady, as if daring him.

Scaramouche’s grip falters, his breath catching for a moment. He almost loses himself in the rush of adrenaline, but then he remembers why he’s here. His body is still aching from previous injuries, his mind clouded with exhaustion, but he presses on.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. He locks eyes with Kaeya, who nods at him from a distance. Scaramouche takes a deep breath and cuts into his own arm. His golden blood splashes onto the sigils beneath them, the ancient markings glowing with power.

The Tsaritsa shrieks in panic, trying to break free, but Scaramouche holds her firm. The light around them intensifies, expanding outward, a blinding aura filling the battlefield. The power of the sigils reacts immediately, growing stronger, feeding off the energy.

“No!” the Tsaritsa shouts, her face contorted in fury and fear as she tries to pull away. But Scaramouche holds her down, unyielding.

As the light begins to consume everything around them, Scaramouche’s heart pounds in his chest. The Tsaritsa struggles, her hands clawing at his grip, but slowly, inexorably, she begins to sink. Her body dissolves into the energy, her form slipping away as she disappears into the blacktop, her furious glare the last thing Scaramouche sees.

And then, she is gone.

Scaramouche’s grin spreads across his face, his chest swelling with the sweet satisfaction of victory. He looks over to Kazuha, whose relieved smile mirrors his own. But the moment of triumph is short-lived. Exhaustion finally takes its toll, and Scaramouche collapses onto the ground, his body giving out beneath him.

The last thing he hears before everything fades is Kazuha’s panicked yells, his voice filled with concern, but Scaramouche can’t muster the strength to respond. He lets the darkness claim him, knowing that the battle is over.

●•·•●

Scaramouche wakes up with a start, immediately thrown off by just how much white is around him.  He groans as he sits up, eyes widening when he realizes he is sitting on his hair.  His…hair? Scaramouche, in genuine pain, moves so he can get a better look at it.  He is shocked when he realizes just how long his hair is again.

He looks around, eager to ask what happened, yet seeing no one.  His heart races as he forces himself to stand, tripping over his own feet and collapsing to the ground.  He groans again, pushing himself to his feet, attempting to balance himself with his wings yet being thrown off due to unforeseen weight.

He flexes his wings, eyes widening at the sight of two new sets of wings adorning his back.  Just how much happened?

“Angel!” Heizou’s voice says while Scaramouche is helped back to his bed.  The human stares at him, clearly happy.  “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Where’s Kazuha?” Scaramouche asks, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounds.

Heizou smiles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.  “He got to talking with your mother…pretty sure they’re civil.  I’ve been sticking with you though.”

“What happened?”

“A lot,” Heizou mutters, putting a strand of Scaramouche’s hair behind his ear.  Scaramouche nuzzles into Heizou’s hand, staring the human down.  “I showed up too late…I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

 “I shouldn’t have left you two.”

“I wanted you away from it all.”

“But-“ Heizou is cut off by Scaramouche tugging him forward, pulling him into a kiss.  The human just melts, putty in his angel’s hands.  “Scara-“ the angel cuts him off again, refusing to let him get a word in.  Heizou pushes away regretfully, staring intently at Scaramouche.  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Scaramouche smiles, chuckling to himself.  “I don’t know about that.”

“Your mom said it might take a while before you don’t feel pain.  Ascension wreaks havoc on the body.”

Scaramouche raises a brow, muttering to himself, “ascens-“

The door is slammed open, Kazuha bursting through with a smile on his face.  He rushes forward, collapsing onto Scaramouche in a way that makes the angel hiss out in pain.  The other human presses soft kisses all along Scaramouche’s face, careful not to actually kiss him until the final one.  “You’re okay…”

And Scaramouche, for what it’s worth, does not want to contradict Kazuha’s words.  So he just nods, smiling at the human.  “I’m okay.”

“You’re okay.”

Kazuha’s face is bright, lighting the way for Scaramouche’s fuzzy thoughts to turn clear.  The specifics of the circumstances that lead him to this scenario are coming back, gradually, but he does not truly care.  He is willing to simply stay here, with his loved ones as his world clicks into place.

Kazuha moves backwards, looking troubled.  “They want to talk to you.”

“What if I don’t want to talk to them.”

“Scara…” Kazuha trails off.  “I don’t think that’s an option.  They’re waiting…they’ve been waiting.”

“I’m not going out there like this,” Scaramouche says, gesturing to his hair. His hand shakes as he picks some of it up, hating just how long it became due to a singular action on his part.  “I can’t.”

Heizou nods, digging in his pocket before pulling out a small switchblade.  “It won’t look nice, but if it’s what you want-“

Scaramouche grabs his arm, sending Heizou a pleading look.  And Heizou, to his credit, does not hesitate.  He starts sawing away at the hair, the cut portions looking jagged.  But as each piece falls, Scaramouche seems to glow brighter.  As the final strands join their brethren, Scaramouche looks ecstatic, running his hand through his once again short hair.

But the moment is fleeting, his happy expression souring almost immediately.

“Let’s get it over with and go home,” Scaramouche says stubbornly.  He tries to stand, but fails miserably, falling back onto the bed.  He flushes, feeling utterly embarrassed.  “Can one of you…”

Heizou is already on it, rushing to sling the angel’s arm around his shoulder and helping Scaramouche to his feet.  “Kazuha, lead the way please.”

Kazuha nods, carefully walking the halls that Scaramouche recognizes with dismay.  He could have led Heizou to the courtroom.  He knows the way.  But he cannot stand thinking about it too much.  When double doors are opened he blinded, white light refusing to halt its continuous assault on his very being.

He cannot look at them.

“Welcome back, Kunikuzushi.”

He looks to the side, seeing the rest of his former society looking at him as if he were an animal performing for the crowd.  They stare in amazement at the simple fact that he is able to stand there before them.  

“I have nothing to say to you all.”

“Scaramouche-“ his mother cuts in hastily.

“Let him speak Beelzebul.”

“You cast me out and expect me to be happy to be back here?  You directly caused a borderline apocalyptic event due to your inability to understand that our differences are not to be ashamed of?”  Scaramouche is able to step forward, without Heizou, yet still unable to look at the Divine. 

“We understand your anger.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t be sitting there.  You would face me directly.”

“We wish to offer you a spot back.  Our prior actions cannot be forgiven, yet we would appreciate the chance to redeem ourselves.”

Scaramouche laughs, stumbling as he loses balance but regaining it quickly.  And for the first time, he looks up, staring directly at the Divine.

And, even with the light burning his eyes as he stares up at the individuals he used to hold in such high regard, he does not look past them.  For the first time, he sees them for what they are; lonely beyond belief.  While he has been able to heal after the issues that brought him pain, Celestia continues to destroy itself in record time.  They hope that the power they hold will continue to be the same, but they can’t see that their power is fleeting.

When given the chance to stay in the heavenly realm, Scaramouche cannot help but realize his feelings toward such a proposition have changed.  While a while ago he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to go back, he realizes that now he doesn’t care as much.  

He didn’t enjoy being in the heavenly realm anyways.

Scaramouche turns toward Kazuha and Heizou, smiling at them before turning back toward the divine.  He shakes his head, causing a few surrounding angels to gape at his refusal.  “Thank you, but I really just want to go home.”

And the divine, for all their inabilities to care for the human realm, seem to understand.  Because, in this entire conversation, Scaramouche hasn’t had his wings out on display at all.

Scaramouche proceeds to turn around, offering his hand out to the two most important people in his world.  “Let’s go home, okay?”

And who are Heizou and Kazuha to deny him that simple request?

●•·•●

Birds chirp as the world continues on.  Scaramouche stands on a familiar cliffside, staring into the great abyss.  He knows of one other pair of eyes that have shared this experience.  Another pair that took in the world and contemplated on what they saw.  His fingers twitch, gripping onto a bouquet of flowers before he kneels down toward a stone standing upright.

He places the flowers down quietly, replacing a withering one with one that is new.  The world goes quiet, allowing him to revel and contain himself.  Scaramouche stands, nodding toward the stone, not even daring to read it.

For if he did, he would see:

‘Barnabas’

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