#— ⟡ . * ( HEADCANON . ) ┇ ❛ NOT EVERY OPEN WOUND IS SIMPLY HEALED BY TIME . ❜

[scary-lasagna]

hii!! Can we get some Brianxreader fluff and nsfw headcanons pls?? Tyᰔ

Here's some spiecy flavored things

Patchwork [Brian x Reader]

"I don't know how you managed to get so beat up every week." You shook your head in dismay, tossing a bloody antibacterial wipe in the trash.

"I'm just a little adventurous, that's all." He simply shrugged off your worries, and you knew he was trying to make you feel better, but it only heightened your concern.

"Adventurous is drinking Redbull instead of coffee in the mornings, not scraping your leg open falling down a flight of stairs." With a sterile popsicle stick, you dipped it in the ointment, and gently applied it to the dotted scrapes along the major wound.

"To each their own." He only smirked, "I told ya you didn't have to take care of me."

"I want to." You looked up at Brian, your head tilted and your hair slightly messy, all with a stern but caring look in your eye. You wanted to continue, but decided against it, shaking your head slightly and focusing back on his leg.

It hasn't been a ridiculously long time since you first arrived at the manor. Your Operator announced your availability, looking for some quick souls to trade for your labor when Slender caught wind of it. Times were rough, and humans don't heal quickly. Last thing he needed was one of his proxies to catch an infection or loose too much blood in one sitting.

You haven't been away from your Operator for this long in a while, however the break from constant work is nice. You were thankful that Slender picked you out in a room full of Medic-talented proxies, somehow sensing your need for a little vacation. You didn't work everyday, mostly because the proxies didn't go out everyday. But the miniscule work that you did do, were little patches and band-aids such as Brian tripping down the stairs.

Not that you minded, most of the proxies weren't terrible looking. Not that any of them seemed available, but they were still nice to gaze at, especially Brian and how much charm he radiates.

You glance up at him, allowing him to give you his lopsided smile. You pretend not to notice you're blushing and grab a bandage from your kit. You start binding up his leg.

"So...are you doing anything tonight?"

Holy shit.

"Um, no, why?" You asked with a fake sense of obliviousness. You hoped he didn't catch onto your overly cool tone. You fumbled with the bandage and it disobeyed, unwinding around his leg.

"A lot of us are going out to the firepit tonight? Was wondering if you wanted to come along." He asked with a good handful of hope.

Your heart sank a little. Did anyone here really like you enough to want you to be there? "I-I'm not sure. I'm not much of a social gathering kind of person."

Brain laughed, one of those kind that lets you catch a glimmer of his personality. "Neither is anyone else, but we all bring food and let Toby talk our ears off until we get tired." He smiled down at you as you finalized the bandage, "C'mon, I'm not gonna take no for an answer, you need to get out of the house somehow."

You huffed and pursed your lips, looking up at him with a playful glare, "Fine." And ignoring his victorious fist bumps, you pack up your kit and stand up with a few cracks of your knees.

He steps uncomfortably close inside your little personal space bubble, gazing down at you. Bastard knows what he's doing. "I'll see ya' at six."

[koukaimagines]

Hi!! Can I have your headcanons of how Jae ha and Kija would take care of their injured s/o? (Not sure how she got injured but thank you for opening your inbox love!!!)

Hi anon! Sorry for the wait, you absolutely can have headcanons of that! I think Kija and Jaeha especially would be fun watching when it comes to an injured s/o, so thanks for sending this in!

Because anon has used she/her pronouns, I will also be employing that in these headcanons where applicable!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kija

When Kija finds you with Yoon treating your injuries, he is immensely and instantly worried. Kija's the type to fret a lot about small things, so if he could take ten thousand arrows to soothe your pain, he would do it.

But that's unfortunately not how healing works, so he refuses to leave your side until Yoon finishes dressing you and tells him that it'll heal without an issue. He may refuse to leave your side after that too.

He'd ask Yoon about several things and try to change the dressings himself based on what he's learned. Unfortunately, his abilities are no where near as skilled as Yoon's, and the claws bestowed on his right hand do little but wear the bandages or tear them. He's clumsy trying to take care of you, to say the least.

He'd feel frustrated at how useless he is, how only Yoon can help you and how he failed to prevent your injury in the first place, no matter what he was doing at the time.

Until you recover, he does everything in his power so that you rest. You're forced to concede to his adorable authoratative tone every time you try to move. "Do not move! Yoon has instructed that you rest! I shall fetch that for you, Love." He attaches that pet name to each of his sentences like he's happy to be at your beck and call while you heal, and he unabashedly is.

This is exclusively figurative and metaphorical— but he's sort of like a puppy that tries to lick at your wounds if that makes any sense. The licking is more like staying by your side, making sure you have everything you need and keeping you company. Note the futility of the wound-licking in terms of actual wound-healing. It's just nice because he very obviously cares.

"It's only natural for the duty to be mine to care for Y/N until she recovers!"

Jaeha

Jaeha would be fascinating to watch. Despite his usual attitude, he's visibly shaken when he sees your bandages soaked in red. Soaked in red on your body.

He'd revert back to himself once he registers that you're in Yoon's hands and alive, making a snarky comment on what you've gotten yourself into this time. "I leave you for a mere moment and you've gotten hurt? Looks like I can't let you out of my sight now, Dear."

Although he wants to stick by you and take care of you, he can't seem to forfeit his pride as he does so. He makes himself more composed than how he really feels as he changes your bandages. And he didn't volunteer to, nor had he asked Yoon about it. Yoon simply told him to, of course, and who was he to deny Yoon and refuse time next to you? Even though he could just do it if he wanted to and it would make no difference.

While you're injured, Jaeha's fraught with a silly internal conflict as he navigates his feelings of worry towards you and a fear of acting like he's too worried. That explains why he'd rather you didn't know about how intentional his close proximity to you is. How he'd keep the herbs Yoon used on you in mind and excuse himself and leave for the fields without telling anyone what he was up to.

If you're injured and unable to use your hands, he'd feed you while teasing you about it. As if he's not absolutely ecstatic to be in the position he's in right now.

Throughout your recovery, he'll let his walls down here and there, often while griping about how hopeless you are, when he more means to convey how hopeless he is— how hopelessly carved into his being you are, and your injury would only serve as proof of that.

[windmaedchen-oceanhorn]

Headcanons for Mesmeroth

Since I need to entertain myself in this fandom, I won't shy away from posting the same drawings again (although I improved the colouring a teeny bit, so it's not entirely unjustified! xD ). Although it's just to post some headcanons for mask-wearing Mesmeroth.

The mask is non-sentient. It's just an enchanted item. Through these enchantments, however, Mesmeroth, as a mage, can make use of and invent spells that normal mages could never do.

The mask bonds with its bearer magically. This bond prevents vital functions of normal breathing, water and food intake. The mask provides nutrition to the host body magically.

Since nutrition and hydration are regulated magically, there are also no waste products. I might consider a need for the bathroom, but only once every quarter year or so. xD

It isn't exactly easy to take off clothes with those antlers, so personal hygiene is done by taking fully clothed (but without all the leather parts and armour!!) baths in the underground hot springs nearby the Riskbourne Citadel (which had Roman-style baths installed once). Given Mesmeroth doesn't perspire either (or otherwise experience the natural functions of human skin), it isn't really required, but he still enjoys the hot water. The only place he does clean regularly are his private parts. He can't bring himself to consciously neglect that area even if he doesn't technically use it for anything.

His body is a little colder than normal and his heartbeat is slower. His body isn't exactly dead, but it isn't properly alive either.

The mask magically prevents any sort of illness. On the downside, wounds take a little longer to heal for him. Thankfully, he hardly gets injured. He can still feel pain, but it is substantially numbed down.

He still has human reflexes. For example, even if he doesn't blink anymore and wouldn't be hurt by objects in his eyes he still flinches away when anything gets too close to his face.

He is aware of the mask on his face, but due to the magical bond to it, he still believes to feel his face as it was. He "blinks" even though he doesn't, and he feels his tongue and lips move when he speaks, even though there are none. It is a curious but eerie feeling when he touches the mask and is able to feel both, the cold metal of the mask on his fingertip and the finger on his skin.

He can strangely feel his antlers as well and doesn't like it when he accidentally bangs them against walls (so he simply doesn't, duh). If someone approached him with a metal file and waved it in the direction of his antlers he'd stress out so bad. xD

He lost his taste entirely and his sense of smell isn't as good as it was before, but he hardly needs it anyway.

Mesmeroth has TONS of time! xD Recovery through sleep is also regulated by the mask. He still gets tired and rests for about 3hrs daily. He can "shut off" his vision by "closing his eyes". Of course, the mechanical eyes remain active and open and so he covers his face with a heavy cloth of black velvet.

Given the dead state of his body, he lost his libido entirely, and probably couldn't feel it even if he wanted to. Nor would his body function properly. The lower temperature of his body also means the loss of fertility. Naturally.

Mesmeroth is MORTAL. xD He may eventually be able to create apparitions of himself that can "die" in his stead and he's also just crazy strong magically so that in a fight, he'd just not be defeated BUT.... technically... he could die from severe wounds: decapitation, stabbing to the heart, bleeding to death etc. He could also be drowned (as the mask cannot provide oxygen within the medium forever (just a more or less long time)) or poisoned. Even if there was a way to remove the mask, his body would die as a consequence.

The death of his body is the only way to acquire the mask.

I imagine there to be another solution, to allow his body to continue to live without the mask, but I'll speak more about that in some other post. :-P

Shadow Mesmeroth is NOT exactly the same as Mesmeroth. It's a corrupt residue of his soul after 1000 years of isolation within a machine, being "infected" by the Shadow.

As Mayfair stated: "Mesmeroth wasn't always "bad"". In fact, pre-mask Mesmeroth was quite a soft-hearted individual, albeit an anti-social one with a special interest in technology and theoretical magic (a condition more commonly known as Asperger's, a form of autism). But that's not something the Arcadians recognised or categorized and so he was a normal but somewhat strange human being, as pretty much everyone else can be, too.

He didn't become a warlock to senselessly kill other creatures. It was simply the best way to satisfy his various interests and get the most out of the education offered at the Twin Towers of the Mage Guild.

The point of this is that: wearing the mask and hardly being human for years... caused him to lose a certain degree of compassion and understanding for human desires. He can see them well enough and doesn't forget about them in his world-view, BUT they do not apply to himself any longer and thus he, now more than ever, considers himself separate from the rest. He is just as narcissistic as Archimedes in some respect, seeing himself closer to being a godly being than a mere human. This is, of course, a natural development, for he IS very powerful, but it just creates a certain disconnect that Mesmeroth seems to forget. That is why for a world to his ideals the destruction of the current one is more than justified.

And some quick ideas about...

The Guardian of the Realm's Mask

The essence of the mask is to "see the truth as is".

I like to think that through the mask Mesmeroth could see if a human is purposefully lying, or honest (or truthfully ignorant). It is even possible that this might have been some original purpose of the mask, when it was created and being used for the first time (apparently during the reign of King Gildas).

One aspect of the mask is its ability to let the mask-wearer see the world through the eyes of a god. It shows the relevant structures and flows and connections. It's a quite hard to imagine the actual vision through the mechanical/magical eyes. Are there additional colours visible? Can the flow of magic be perceived? Can souls be seen? Is Mesmeroth aware of these things as additional visual impressions or is there maybe rather a sound or smell? Maybe some strange 6th sense?

Ah, no, I need to think some more. xD I was trying to type ideas about its creation but it's really hardly thought through. Was it a gift from the gods? A leftover from their initial population of Gaia? An instrument made by the Shadow? Or even just created by an incredibly powerful mage? xD Who knows.

[nosixth]

i just spent most of the day at the fair and i’ve come to the conclusion modern  scaramouche  absolutely  LOATHES  the  rides. you can get him to go on them with you if you play your cards right      ( namely with a lot of coaxing and flattery ) but expect him to sink his nails into your arm and alternate between muttering curses under his breath and screeching like an angry cat. would  not  RECOMMEND —— he will hold a grudge after.

[pillow-anime-talk]

okasan.

request​: hello! since your request are opened, can i request kagaya ubuyashiki with a s/o who the pillars view her as a mother figure? thank you.

# tags: headcanon; current marriage relationship; soft romance; slice of life; family picture; kid!fic; mother figure; everybody loves reader; mostly fluff; also a bit of angst; sfw

includes: female reader ft. kagaya ubuyashiki & all pillars {kny}

author’s note: i LOVE such requests (i.e. mother figure trope and family!au). thank you too! please, enjoy it!

↘ Kagaya and you have known each other since childhood, since always; your parents introduced you to each other and you developed friendship first and then love. It was natural, sincere, beautiful. You supported you – currently – husband in every decision he made, no matter how dangerous and insane it was. In the meantime, you were enjoying your little... or rather huge family.

↘ You had your amazing biological children; the eldest of them named Hinaki and Nichika, the only son and future head of your bloodline Kiriya, and also two youngest daughters, Kuina and Kanata. All five descendants were your greatest happiness and joy. You loved each of your kids equally, and at the same time tried to be the best mother for them.

↘ Nevertheless, your family grew slowly during your relationship with Kagaya. During recruiting new Pillars, you got to know more and more of your husband’s combatants; in the end, you surrounded by nine wonderful and irreplaceable people.

↘ Each of them respected you as much as their parents or loved ones; always greeted you with a low bow, always wished you a beautiful day, always admired you and your gentle body movements or your calm tone of voice. Every day you had a chance to meet at least one of them, which made your day even better – after all, each of them was different from the other, thanks to which everyone gave you a lot of felicity and new, positive emotions. Just like your biological ones.

↘ All Pillars had a difficult family situation; some of them lost their mothers or both parents, some didn’t know them at all, and others didn’t want to know them. Therefore, during your relationship with 97th leader, everyone began to see you as an ideal mother and a role model.

↘ Shinobu and Mitsuri could talk to you about women’s matters/problems, they asked you for advice in love, on bringing up their future children, and sometimes they visited your house just to see you. They were extremely polite, always bringing you good news about their Tsugukos or the three boys who defending demon sister. You always smiled at their words and wished them good luck on their next missions, and they – as if enchanted – swore that they would come back to your Mansion.

↘ You were a quiet, beautiful haven for Obanai and Muichiro. With you, they simply felt well, calm and pleased. The mere sight of you and the warm tea you offered to them, made all large wounds heal faster. Obanai loved hearing your stories, and Muichiro would occasionally sleep next to your legs, restoring his physical and mental strength. It didn’t bother you. You considered them family members and reminded them of it every time.

↘ Gyomei was the oldest and strongest, but you both knew deep in your heart that he’s indescribably delicate and needs understanding in many ways. You felt a special bond with him – perhaps because he was blind like your husband. In this case, you loved to hear his stories and, if time allowed, you were very eager to pray with him, asking for the safety of the rest of the Hashira, your husband and your five babies.

↘ Sanemi and Kyojirou were... just flamboyant. They improved your mood all the time and although they had a lot to say, they always waited patiently for your permission. Of course, you always gave it to them asking for more funny stories and jokes. Additionally, they both liked to praise you very much; your looks, your intelligence, the brilliantly served cookies on the table, and even the new kimono you were wearing (they were delighted to hear that Oyakata-sama had bought it for you). They felt confident with you, and at the same time remained modest and respectful you. At the end of the meeting you always asked for another one.

↘ Tengen came to you very often with his wives. The four of them always asked for your blessing and advice – after all, the women were expecting their own children and each of them promised to give them names beginning with the first letter of your own first name. You loved seeing their enchantment and their growing tummies. You always touched them through the fabric of their clothes and they blushed like crazy, feeling that their children would be as wonderful as you are. On the other hand, when Tengen came alone, he would always bring you a bouquet of fresh flowers or a basket full of dishes that his wives made. You were also willing to visit them by yourself, if you had time.

↘ Giyuu, unlike the others, didn’t come to you very often; he was a bit embarrassed and thought it insolent to visit you in your own property. He thought he was not worthy of it. Therefore, instead of visiting your home, you wrote letters with each other. After a few long messages, you would invite the water boy over to you, assuring you that you would be happy about it. Only then did he dare to come to you without ever looking into your eyes. Fortunately, your calm voice and the assurance that this was also okay for you made Giyuu look up and smile softly at the sight of your own, wide smile.

↘ Hearing and feeling your amazing relation with all nine, your husband felt warmth in his heart. He has always known that you are a good woman; full of tenderness and love for another human being. To family members, but also to – in fact – strangers. To animals, plants and even inanimate things.

↘ Everyone was grateful for the fact that they could rest by your side and feel the warmth of the family once again.

↘ No wonder that at some point Inosuke, Tanjirou, Zenitsu, Nezuko, Genya, Senjurou and the girls from Butterfly Mansion started visiting you as well and telling you about their missions, trainings, problems and dreams. 

↘ You were the mother to the entire Demon Slayer Corps.

[betweenthescarletmoon]

I've been thinking of writing some fic about this, but first, headcanon

(Edit: so it's come to my attention that every single habit Bruno has is a normal, cultural representation for superstition in Latinoamérica. As a Puerto Rican, I'm sorry if this post ever made it seem like Bruno's habits were canonically neurodivergent when it didn't seem to be the case at all. In my country, nobody has these superstitions, although it may be because we simply have others, or being colonized by the US and Protestants took that out of our culture. I simply don't know. The point is, I was unaware of these superstitions, but this remains a headcanon where I'd still like to explore a neurodivergent and superstitious Bruno, namely him with ocd. I hope this clears things up! Thanks!)

Bruno knocks on wood seven to eight times (usually the last knock is in his head), and the first time the audience and Mirabel see him do this he has to hold his breath and cross his fingers, until he passes a certain space of the wood. Cue other compulsions/superstitious habits: the salt/sugar throwing, and the little hopscotch game with the song children are sung to when they're hurt so they can heal.

Since Casita seemed to crack and break for years and Bruno has spent a decade in perhaps the most vulnerable part of Casita (we see more cracks here than anywhere else, as if the pain of loneliness and being forgotten/blamed by the family originates these cracks), what if that big hole in the floor that Bruno is such an expert at parkour-ing was where he crashed through first?

That must've hurt like hell.

Who knows if he was physically able or if he had the courage to sneak into the kitchen to get Julieta's food (if there were leftovers).

I can only imagine the splinters, the dust, the way the rotten and broken wood tore his skin and left him sore. Let's say he was trying to establish his hidden room as well, and he had to spend that first night with wounds open for infection, covered in dust, surrounded by none other than rats. You see where I'm going right? Mans got sick.

Maybe all he had to help disinfect/purify his wounds (though it hurt so much he had to bite something to muffle his groans of pain) was salt. (Dolores definitely heard him.) Maybe the only thing that soothed his tears and the burning itch in his throat to cough, was whispering what his mother would sing to him, over and over again. ("Sana, sana, colita de rana")

(fun fact: in puerto rico we say "sana curita sana, si no se sana hoy que se sane mañana")

Coupled with the cold and the infections he didn't treat quickly enough, that night must've also triggered a fever. But I think he was able to beg the rats to steal some arepas when the sun began to shine over the crack in the wall, and Julieta's signature humming could be heard along with the clattering of plates and utensils.

Shivering and sweaty as he nibbled food he was a little too nauseous to enjoy, until he slowly began to regain energy upon the first swallow. The fever broke, the aching and soreness faded. But not his shivers. The fall would wake him up in nightmares for years to come.

So he learns how to tiptoe and jump over every crack and gaping hole. He learns to spend the nights in the cold. He learns to fix some of the cracks. He pleads the wood every time he walks upon it, holding his breath, begging Casita to not let him fall again. And he tries to sing it to heal, to not break, to be purified by the salt, just like he was.

It becomes a compulsion to avert any disaster fairly quickly. He can't breathe, can't sleep, until he knocks with bruised knuckles. Until he holds salt in his hands.

[bokettochild]

If you’re still taking requests: I read a headcanons where chocolate is native to Lorule and Hyrule has little to none, so what if Legend introduces hot chocolate to the boys? (He gets it from Ravio)

I am so weak for domestic Ravio and Legend, oh gosh!

This ended up only being the first half of your request, anon, but the second part is in the works! I just... felt that this would be a good ending for this part. Hate me later!

Ao3 for when I write Part 2

Part 2

Mr. Hero loves his apples.

It’s clear when he looks out the window to see the other boy standing beneath his trees, singing softly and carefully tending the tree in the orchard, a warm look in his eyes and none of the usual lines crossing his face. Mr. Hero told him once that he’d been tending the orchard since he was a small child, and that the apples there even have healing properties as a result of being tended so faithfully. There was a time when he doubted that, but he’d changed his mind the first time Mr. Hero had made him some cider.

Fruit was a rarity in Lorule, the trees withered and the plants died, and any sweet thing was turned bitter as their world crumbled. Ravio had never tasted an apple before coming to Hyrule, and the first time Mr. Hero had offered him one (the first morning they woke up in the same house) he’d strained his jaw in trying to eat it and had been utterly shocked by the taste.

He didn’t like how hard they were to chew, and the skin on the outside bothered him, so he politely declined the next time Mr. Hero offered him one of the apples he kept in a bowl on the kitchen table.

But then came a night when Mr. Hero had come trudging in through the door, soaked to the skin as thunder rumbled outside. Puddles dripped over the floor and wet leather squelched with every step as Mr. Hero trudged into the house.

Dark bags ringed Mr. Hero’s violet eyes, his rose-gold hair dripping with rainwater and speckled with blood and mud both, tunics drenched and sopping and not even the light cloak he wore doing a thing to protect him from the raging storm he had just emerged from.

“Mr. Hero!” Ravio’s eyes had darted up from one of the items he’d been repairing, worry flickering in their depths as he peered out from beneath his hood at the other boy. “You’re soaked!”

Mr. Hero hadn’t answered, only snorted in a way that might have been a sneeze, casting off his cloak as he did so and dropping it in a corner where Ravio quickly scurried to pick it up.

Honestly, it was a blessing to Mr. Hero that he’d come here! The house was an utter mess half of the time!

Boots squelched their way to the kitchen as Ravio wrung the dripping cloak out into a bucket he’d been using for moping earlier that evening, and he silently bemoaned the fact that there was yet again mud trailing across the floors he’d only just made clean again. He’d almost scolded his housemate, only to startle and jump at the sound of clattering from the cellar which was then followed by something of a ruckus in the kitchen.

Green eyes and dark hair had peered warily around the corner to find Mr. Hero seated at the kitchen table and pulling off his boots with an exhausted expression on his face. Puddles and mud dripped across the floor and towards the door leading down into the basement, but the boots were coming off and there wasn’t a mess of dishes spread across the floor or anything.

In fact, the only difference, besides the dirt, was a mug perched on the table and a kettle bubbling merrily over the kitchen fire, a sweet smell drifting through the air that made Ravio’s nose twitch and shiver with delight and curiosity both.

He hadn’t spoken as Mr. Hero had trod about the kitchen with wet socks and stumbling steps, gathering things from the shelves and measuring different sweet-smelling spices into a cup. But when the kettle had whistled and the smell in the air had been joined with the sound of bubbling sweet something, Ravio had caved.

“What are you doing, Mr. Hero?”

“Making cider.” Mr. Hero responded, voice weary and heavy as stiff fingers had mitted themselves with a spare dishtowel to remove the whistling appliance from the open flames and pour its contents into an earthen mug. Steaming golden liquid had poured from the iron kettle into the cup, and as violet eyes darted his way, a second mug was produced and similarly filled.

Ravio moved slowly around the doorframe into the kitchen, head cocked to one side as he watched Mr. Hero's nimble, yet stiff, fingers fly across the things spread across the counter, and before he knew it there was a warm mug being deposited into his hand as his housemate walked past him.

Surprise had sparked in his mind at the comforting warmth of the drink in his hands, and his eyes had trailed after the pink-haired hylian as Mr. Hero had stalked over to the fire, pulling down a monstrously bulky quilt from a shelf and curling up before the raging fire with his mug held tight in his trembling fingers.

Cautious, the bunny merchant hadn’t dared touch the contents of his cup; he’d been poisoned before, and while it smelled utterly delectable, he resisted until he saw Mr. Hero take a drink first. It’s not that he distrusted the other boy, but he knew better than to actually trust him yet. They were both relying on each other for something, depending on the other to provide what they needed to solve a mutual problem. Their relationship was as business partners, nothing more, and Ravio knew better than to trust most business folk.

But then he’d watched the shivers die as Mr. Hero nursed his cup slowly, eyes drooping further as they blinked sleepily, a soft squeaky yawn breaking the silence as the hylian had settled his empty mug on the carpet and promptly proceeded to doze off where he sat.

Ravio shook his head, setting down his own mug and gathering a few pillows from the couch to prop around the hero. It wouldn’t do to have the single person who could save the both of their countries running around with a crick in his neck and pains in his back, now would it? (Ravio hadn’t known at the time that that was just what Mr. Hero did on the regular, but he’d learned as much later and it made him doubly glad that he had done something).

With Mr. Hero soundly asleep, with not even the rumbling thunder outside doing anything to wake him, the merchant had turned his attention back to the sweet-smelling substance in the mug he’d been handed.

Something golden warm and almost clear sloshed in the earthenware mug, bits of spice and a stick of cinnamon clinking about inside as he swirled it around. It smelled delectable, like nothing he’d ever had the chance to smell before, and he’d hesitantly lifted it to his face to breath in the warm steam.

A sigh escaped him as the smell washed over him, and entirely on impulse, Ravio took a sip.

Sweet and savory nectar, tasting faintly of apple yet warm and smooth and entirely too delightful to be possible sparked across his tongue and made him start in surprise, before humming in pleasure and settling where he stood.

Never before, nor since, had he tasted anything so delectable as apple cider.

Mr. Hero came back time and again, dusted in snow or sodden and wet, or simply wounded and exhausted, and every time, his first priority was to stalk into the cellar, bustle in the kitchen, and emerge with a mug in either hand, one which he deposited in Ravio’s delighted fingers while the other was taken to where the veteran hero had settled beside the fire. Mr. Hero would sip on the sider, wrapped tight in a blanket and watching the flames, and would drift off entirely after finishing his mug.

Ravio would sigh and shake his head, setting aside his own partially finished drink in order to clean and bandage wounds and tuck the blanket tighter round his companion, making sure that Mr. Hero lay in a way that wouldn’t hurt his back, before returning to whatever he’d been doing, a mug of cider nestled in his grasp as he worked, a satisfied smile on his face.

But then there had come an evening where Mr. Hero had trudged through the door only to collapse in the entryway. Eyes rolling back as Ravio had squeaked in alarm, all but flying to his housemate’s side and struggling to pull the other boy upright again to help drag him to the couch.

Shivers and coughs broke the still silence as he’d bandaged a stab wound, and when Mr. Hero’s tired volet eyes had blinked awake again, Ravio was perched at his side with a worried frown playing over his face.

Mr. Hero couldn’t see it, but he was worried, terribly so.

Maybe it was the cider, maybe it was the house, maybe it was the light banter between the two, but he’d been coming to see his doppelganger as something a bit more than a business partner, and seeing the other boy lying weak and drained on the couch made his heart twist and clench with worry.

He’d had to all but force Mr. Hero to take a break, but had come to the horrid realization that the other boy was entirely incapable of actually making himself sleep.

“I have to be ready to move.” Mr. Hero had scowled across the room, eyes resting on the sword Ravio had leaned against the wall. “You can’t rest out there safely, and I can’t sleep anyways so what’s the use?”

Stubby fingers had fiddled with his scarf as he’d stared in shock and concern at his maybe-friend.

“But you always sleep fine when you’re here! It’s safe, you’re warm, what on earth could be keeping you awake?”

And violet eyes had avoided his own, shoulders rising as shuddering breaths had grown harsher, and Ravio found pity springing up where he never thought it would again as he stared at his housemate.

“I suf- I deal with insomnia. I can’t sleep most days. When I do sleep it’s...” Mr. Hero’s long fingers ran through his bedraggled pink hair in an irritated manner. “I have nightmares.” Mr. Hero’s voice dropped low and soft, barely above a whisper as he’d curled up on the couch. “And I don’t want to see those right now.”

“You need to relax. You’re sick.” Ravio had stated softly, worrying his lip between his teeth and watching Mr. Hero nod in acceptance. The other was clearly too tired to protest, and that was all the confirmation Ravio needed that he wasn’t doing so well. “How come you sleep well normally? When you’re here I mean?”

“Huh?”

“You come in, make that-” A warm shiver crept up his spine, delight blossoming inside at the mere thought. “-cider stuff, and then you fall asleep.”

“Oh.” Mr. Hero blinked slowly. “My Uncle used to make me cider to help me fall asleep. Neither of us knew anything about tea, but we would sleep best when we drank something warm first.” He shrugged. “It just helps me relax.”

Warm? Warm things helped Mr. Hero relax?

An idea sparked and Ravio jumped to his feet, chuckling nervously at the alarmed expression that his abrupt movement caused before he darted towards the kitchen. “Say right there! Don’t go anywhere.”

As he left the room, he heard a scoff and the rustling of the blanket. “What’s he think I’m gonna do, run back outside in the middle of the night? Tch.”

It had been a while since Ravio had made cocoa, especially when he’d learned to love cider more, but unfortunately (or tragically in his mind) he didn’t yet know how to make the cider itself and thus couldn’t make it for Mr. Hero. Fortunately, cocoa was also good, although not as good, and would serve perfectly well in the place of the fruity drink. After all, he mused to himself, cocoa was chocolate, and chocolate had caffeine, which, while caffeine was the love of his life and kept him awake, seemed to have the opposite effect on Mr. Hero.

They’d had tea once together when Ravio had been left some by a customer as a thank you, and Mr. Hero had been surprisingly calm for the rest of the evening before he had to leave the next morning.

Setting chocolate to melt and measuring out some milk into a saucepan was the easy part. Pacing up and down the kitchen and hoping Mr. Hero wasn’t getting impatient with him while the chocolate melted was the hard part. But it was a practiced process that was tried and true, and not even Hilda could resist his hot cocoa, so it was worth it in the end when he had two steaming and frothy mugs in hand and was headed back on his way into the living room, leaving Sheerow with full rights to cleaning up the rest of the chocolate he’d had left over.

Mr. Hero was still awake, unsurprisingly, considering his earlier revelation, and he cocked a brow at the sight of the mugs, a wary look on his face. “What is that?”

“Cocoa.” He chirruped in response, only to be met with a confounded expression on Mr. Hero’s thin face.

“Co- what?”

Ravio started to a halt, eyes blinking wide as he stared at his friend. “Have- have you... never had cocoa before, Mr. Hero? How is that possible! It’s wonderful!”

Soft violet eyes, nearly devoid of life or any emotion, stared back at him. “Ravio, I have traveled to all of seven countries and I’ve never even heard of it. What the heck are you on about?”

The merchant was bundling himself onto the couch at the hero’s side in mere moments, eyes sparkling with delight as he shoved a mug into Mr. Hero’s startled hands. “Oh, you’ve got to try it then, it’s-” Delightful, wonderous, nearly as good as cider but not quite- he wasn’t sure which word to settle on, but he didn’t really have the chance to choose, cutting off as he saw Mr. Hero’s nose shiver slightly, eyes growing wide as the hylian all but shoved his nose into the cup, sniffing appreciatively with a startled expression before taking a cautious sip.

The expression ‘stars in your eyes’ had never made sense before, but Mr. Hero’s twinkling lavender shades finally helped him to understand as the other boy had stared into his mug as if he’d just discovered the fabled sword of Lorule. Mr. Hero’s mouth opened, forming an ‘o’ shape before flapping slightly, only to eventually close again around a gulp of cocoa as he sat staring in astonishment at the drink in his hands.

Ravio giggled softly into his own mug, letting the froth on top tickle his lips as he watched his friend discover chocolate for the first time. “It’s not as good as cider but-”

“Are you kidding me? This is-” Mr. Hero sighed out, both hands wrapping around the mug as the hylian’s shoulder relaxed, his gaze slipping closed with another sip of the warm chocolate. “This is freaking heaven.”

Ravio would contest that, did, in fact, contest it repeatedly, but Mr. Hero argued back.

If Mr. Hero made cider, than Ravio would insist it was better than cocoa while Mr. Hero snorted that it didn’t even compare, meanwhile when Ravio made cocoa, Mr. Hero pointedly glared at him over the rim of his mug (never mind that chocolate clung to is face and upper lip) as he drank it slowly and pointedly. Ravio would scoff and again assert that cider was better, but the blissful expression on his friend’s face was something that was terribly hard to argue with.

Both demanded the others recipes, and both refused.

“You’ll never make cider if you can make cocoa.” Ravio had pouted, and Mr. Hero had grumbled that the same could be said of the cocoa, hence why he would never share his recipe.

But then their adventure was over, and in the middle of packing up his things to leave through the portal for the final time, Mr. Hero had grabbed his arm and dragged him down to the cellar.

Ravio had spluttered and huffed at his friend’s odd behavior, but then found himself sitting wide eyes as Mr. Hero explained how to properly prepare the apples and slowly, surely, Ravio realized what was happening.

Green eyes flicked up from the apple in Mr. Hero’s hands to stare at the face across from his; violet eyes downcast and weary, and face lined with care and hurt as it had been when they’d first met. He longed to reach out and smooth the frown lines, but it would only make Mr. Hero scowl if he rubbed juice onto his face.

Once he’d been shown how to start the cider, Mr. Hero dragged him upstairs and very pointedly lectured him on spice usage and proportions, all the while mixing up a batch of heavenly smelling nectar that made Ravio want to squeeze his friend in his arms and whisper a tearful than you.

But Mr. Hero’s face was still grim, and with every step it sunk in just why the forbidden recipe was finally being revealed to him.

He was going away. He was going away and never coming back, and Mr. Hero, the dear that he was, had decided to let him have the recipe he loved the best. Be it because Mr. Hero didn’t want to stop him from enjoying it, or maybe as a final expression of friendship, it felt...hollow.

Mr. Hero had just saved both their worlds, and now he was giving Ravio a special part of himself. He was sharing how his uncle had taught him to make cider, something important, intimate. Something that had been his and his alone to remember his uncle, or so he’d whispered on a lonely night ages ago when they were still getting to knw each other.

And Ravio, as always, was just taking it, with nothing given in return.

That simply wouldn’t do! Mr. Hero deserved something as a comfort, as a thank you! And... well, if I would help remind him of Ravio, than the merchant wouldn’t mind that either.

Hand’s full of mugs were halted as Ravio took both, earning a look of protest from his friend until he was leading Mr. Hero back into the kitchen. “You shared,” He explained with a light smile, one Mr. Hero could actually see now. “Now it’s my turn.”

That night, they curled up on the couch with mugs of cider and cocoa, silently enjoying their final night together.

In the morning, Mr. Hero loaded him up with apples and spice, and Ravio scoured his bags for every last trace of chocolate to stock the hero’s cupboards. Neither would last forever, something that niggled the backs of both of their minds, but both sought to drown the thought with checking over house and bags respectively one last time.

The goodbye was tearful, both from the princesses and Ravio himself as he flung himself into Mr. Hero’s arms, blubbering and sobbing in a right mess, but Mr. Hero only sighed, shoulders trembling slightly as he’d gently patted his back (arms tight enough around him that Ravio could hardly breathe) the softest of sniffles sounding from his friend as the hero let him cry out all his goodbyes on his shoulder.

That night, in the big, stately, but painfully lonely and uncluttered, kitchen of Lorule’s castle, Ravio made apple cider. It didn’t taste quite like Mr. Hero’s, a far cry indeed, but that may have just been the salt in it.

[gunpowderdtim]

Talk to me about narratomancy? Just whatever you want to talk about it I'm deathly interested

!!!! Today today i had so many Thoughts. To many. It almost rivals March 2020 thoughts

So

My current running names for the four pillars of Narratomancy are as follows:

Universal Story

Narrative Role Filling/Casting Call

Story Echoes

Narrative Flow/Narrative Imperative

Each of these refer to VERY different things within the concept of Narratomancy. I will do my best to describe them. I have coined every term here but narratomancy, to which I believe the honor falls to @lucky-sevens

Keep in mind this is 50% theory, 20% headcanon, 30% canon, and that you do not have to agree with me.

Universal Story

Universal Story refers to the story of the universe, not stories in the universe, the story of the universe. In other words, the story of ‘Dr. Carmilla & The Mechanisms’

This section of Narratomancy is a tad more meta than the others, as it does in some form rely on real-world events to define it, as well as having little to no in story inpact on anything. Maki created the mechanisms universe, clear and simple. She founded the band, and hashed out the earliest lore. Dr. Carmilla is the main character of the universe, not of all the stories, but of the universe. Essentially, Universal Story refers to the fact that Doc C is the main character of the universe, and that the mechanisms are her side characters, in the story of the universe. I have taken to viewing it as doc carmilla stuff is the story of the universe, and the mechanisms is a spin off of that. Both are just as canon, but not specifically canon to eachother. Regardless, the universes story is Carmilla, from starting on Terra, to Aurora, through Loreli, into creating The Mechansims, all of that. All of that is the story of The Universe. The Mechanisms backstories are included in this, of course, because they are part of Carmilla's tale, not the other way around. Through this, I conclude that The Mechanisms are a spin off, focusing on the mechs rather than Carmilla. After all, The Mechansisms are a vessel for telling stories, for fleshing out the universe.

Narrative Role Filling/Casting Call

This refers to the mechs penchant for falling into narrative roles similar to troupes that they represent, or basically acting as a crutch for a story to continue. In OUATIS, Jonny acts as The Prince figure in sleeping beauty. He saves Briar. In being The Prince, he allows Snow's forces to attack cole, and win the war. Without that whole escapade, its likely the war would have stretched on years longer, and not have ended as it did.

Or, Ashes as Hades. What do mythological Hades and Ashes have in common? Hades was eaten by his father, Kronos, because there was a prophesy that told Kronos that his children would usurp him as king of the titans. Ashes figured out Mickey was the snitch, Mickey realized beforehand and lead Ashes into a trap. Killing them because he knew that they could ruin him. Basically, a parental figure betrays the child figure due to them knowing the child could ruin/destroy their position of power. As well as, if Ashes were not Hades, the Suits would not have met, and because of that the story of Ulysses Dies At Dawn would not have happened.

Continuing, while I am not nearly as much of an Arthurian legend person as I am a greek mythology person, some quick google searches revealed a similar similarity between Merlin and Brian. Basically, Merlin and the lady of the lake. She was basically his apprentice/a lady he was in love with? She basically betrayed and killed him after learning all out magic from him. Brian brought a priest back to life, only to have the priest betray and kill him. The tying together point here is clearly the "someone you helped betrays and kills you." That or, the fact they are both magical. Beyond this, If Brian were not on Fort Galfridian, Galahad would never have sought out the grail, and the entire plot would not have occurred.

In The Bifrost Incident, the Mechanisms do not take narrative roles in the way they did in prior albums. But this does not exclude them from being vital points in the story, after all, if Ivy were not present Lyf would not have been able to recover the data on the Black Box)

In all of these situations, (barring Jonny as The Prince) the Mechanisms have had some sort of connection point in the Roles they assume, as well as in their roles, changing the story so that it can continue to the ending presented in the albums.

Story Echoes

Story echoes are, to be blatant, simply canon. No argument, no theorizing, just canon. Refers to the fact that in the mechanism's universe stories 'echo' or basically repeat. In Kofi's fiction for HNOC, its shown rather blatantly that there are more Arthurs in this universe than just the one in hnoc.

In those burning instants, he’d feel the weight of it all, and know it was true. The golden age that never came; the city that stood at the dawn of a world instead of in its dying embers. And beyond – to a myriad of Camelots and a thousand thousand Arthurs, unfathomable worlds apart, each different, each fighting the same hopeless battle.

I know there are other examples of this, but they do escape me right now.

Lastly,

Narrative Flow/Narrative Imperative

This one is also directly canon. On the mechanisms blog, this post defines it rather well.

In the ask, the asker asks "...Do you heal injuries at an abnormal rate, or can you not be injured?"

In the reply, it is stated.

It depends on the narrative imperative - sometimes a Mechanism might die for a while, and only come back later when it becomes more fun, other times they’ll just heal/ignore wounds as they take them. It’s not something they can control, but tends to follow a rough logic of whatever works best for the story.

This is just canon, no arguing or stating otherwise. A mechanisms ability to heal depends entirely on what's best for the story.

Other examples in canon where this comes into play would be as follows:

GPTVTMK. In gptvtmk, Jonny's severed head is there. Is talks. It moves. In one of the fictions, it's stated Jonny cannot separate his heart from his body. Therefore, these are contradictory. Under normal circumstances, this would be a plothole. It is not here. Under narratomancy, Jonny was capable of being a severed head due to the fact that that would be best for the story.

OUATIS. Jonny walks through rounds and rounds of bullets.

HNOC. This example is a bit different from the rest, as it is not about a Mechanism. Galahad does something pretty fucking impossible.

And so Galahad stood and walked into the corridor. The guns trained on the preacher and opened fire. 

Say what you want about faith, but it can have powerful effects on those that have it. It can keep you from faltering as the bullets start to slam into you. It can keep you walking as your legs are shot to bloody stumps. It can keep you laughing as your lungs are filled with shrapnel and lead. It can keep you smiling as half your face is blown away. It can keep a man like Galahad standing tall until the guns clicked dry.

It is my belief that this is another example of narrative imperative. Under normal rules, Galahad could never have done this. But his faith, his beleif, kept him going. And that was good for the story.

So. That wraps up my narratomancy ramble for today. hope yall enjoyed.

*EDIT: Nastya does say it's nanobots. My opinion is: it's both. The nanobots are narrative driven <3

[camdentown-library]

Sleeping with Basim and Hytham || Headcanons

Basim Ibn Ishaq:

We all know that Basim truly has an impenetrable zest when it comes to his emotional, psychological, and sentimental aura.

Even you had to wait a long time before physical contact could happen with the two of you.

I don't think because Basim is shy, in my opinion it is in his nature to be not explicit in terms of attention.

You know: the loss of his son, other post-traumatic suffering from certain battles or misions, not to mention that Loki contaminates his mind.

Anyway I think the factor that brought you closer is because objectively one really needed the other at that specific moment.

For example, a nightmare, or you felt cold during the night, or someone would have watched over the other sick or injured.

In particular, I think that Basim above all would surprisingly take the first step in this case, perhaps because as a good student you waited for your Mentor to break the ice of the "hierarchy of roles and professionalism"

"Y/N are you cold?" he asked without taking his eyes off the fire he had lit.

"Yes, but, I'll get used to this temperature range, Mentor" you said as your teeth chattered and the cold instead penetrated your bones, depriving you of the relief of sleep.

"Mmmh..." was the answer of the man who still did not deign to look at you, and therefore you thought it was just the umpteenth test to accept that you were really worthy of being able to fight alongside him, other than a simple concern Human.

"Y/N come closer" Basim's deep and marked voice made you jerk your head in surprise, then throw him a puzzled look. Maybe you were dreaming? Was the cold hallucinating?

The man noticing that you were not advancing towards him, decided to open his right arm (the one closest to your side) and then slide his gaze on you.

"I'm not eating you Y/N, I can't allow you to die of hypothermia. I'd be a heartless Mentor" said the man, spreading his lips in an enigmatic smile, which accentuated his ironic tone and a little mockery of him

.So without further delay, you crawled towards him and then let his arm, covered by his cloak, encircle your shoulder, thus covering you further.

The heat of his body mingled with that of yours. You probably already knew that it was enough to simply be this close to your mentor to warm you up if not flush with shyness.

The man on his side seemed not to pay attention, but you knew that Basim never escaped anything, probably he was also able to read your mind .... as certain students of Constantinople said in their fearful legends.

"You can sleep if you want" his voice made you look back on his face, that you would have wanted so much to be able to caress him "Don't worry, tonight I'll be on guard duty. Rest, you look really tired"

You then decided to obey and take advantage of his generosity, and placing your face on his chest it didn't take long before you fell asleep.

Yet despite you slept you could have sworn you felt Basim's rough knuckles gently caress your face and then your hair.

Could it have been a dream?

Hytham:

ASDFGHJKL Hytham little darling, and virgin inexperienced of EVERYTHING!

Hytham and you have been friends from time immemorial, you are very confidential and almost telepathic in some respects. Two perfect travel and battle companions.

Except that this Platonism stopped only at the speaking and professional aspect.

Hytham always seems very uncomfortable with receiving affection or physical contact, at least, that was until you got to Ravensthorpe.

The Viking influence in a sense helped to untie many knots of insecurity in him and certainly his vain attempts to imitate Basim.

"Are you still on the paperwork, Hytham?" you asked entering his small studio, the boy nodded without stopping to analyze the papyri. You sighed and approached him with kindness you pulled out the quill from his fingers and poured it into the inkwell.

"Hytham, uyumalısın. Sonunda bu papirüslerin üzerine çökecek ve onları mahvedeceksin" (Hytham, you must sleep. You will end up collapsing on these papyri and ruining them) you said placing both hands on his shoulders, with a small amused smile, which hid concern.

"... tamam, dediğini yapacağım" (... okay, I'll do as you say) he answered interrupting a long moment of silence and then exasperated sigh.

If you ask, yes, you will have to accompany Hytham to his bed to accept that he really does as he promised you.

And in fact as soon as you get to his mattress he will turn to you and say "I should undress"

"As if I had never seen a naked man, if not in Constantinople, well here in Ravensthorpe every corner is full of them, Hytham" the boy shook his head and roll his eyes, began to take off his tunic, revealing his toned torso and the great bruise on his chest.

Hytham had never recovered from that fight in Norway, there was not a day that you could hear him coughing or fatiguing from frantic movements.

"How's the wound going?" you asked spontaneously and in response a quick and bitter laugh broke your heart.

"Valka says that time will heal the wounds. I believe that instead it will be time itself that will take me to the grave"

"Hytham ..."

"It really hurts, especially when I sleep I'm surrounded by Kjotve's nightmares hitting me and Basim's disappointed look telling me that I won't be able to fight anymore" Hytham explained, frowning for a moment, then touching his bruise "... That's why I don't like to sleep "

You approached without delay, and placing the palm of your hand gently on his face, it slid to his rough and dirty hand on the ink knuckles.

"Hytham let me watch over you, I could ... maybe my company could help you calm your dream" you asked worried "I can't restore your strength and your health ... but I can give you what I've always given you: a friend"

He seemed to think about it for a while and then look into your eyes and sigh and nod.

"Okay ... but, don't undress here ... it would make me uncomfortable to have you naked in my bed Y/N" he admitted slowly starting to lie down between the sheets so as not to bother the wound "Not that you are not beautiful...it's just that..."

"Hytham ...." you looked at him smiling "I know, don't worry ... I just want you to be fine" you said reassuring him and lying down beside him.

Your soft hands resumed caressing his face, tracing the contours of your thin face, the shell of his ear, his soft raven hair.

Hytham did not seem to mind those attentions, his eyes began to slowly close, while his arm slowly tied to your hips dragging you tacitly closer to him.

His body was warm ... you wanted to touch him, but surely it wasn't the right time now to make room for certain fantasies, Hytham needed you.

"If you find a husband one day, Y/N, I think he will never understand how lucky he is to have an angel like you by his side" Hytham whispered before falling into a deep sleep in your arms.

[blue-bird-kny]

first kiss headcannons for tanjirou zenitsu, inosuke and genya? plus any others you feel like adding.

Here you go, enjoy!~Amanda (also it was impossible to find an image with them all!)

Warning: Mentions of anxiety, fluff, angst

(2k+ words)

Tanjiro:

With Tanjiro, he’d be the one that would initiate the first kiss. Being the gentleman he is though, he’d only do so with your complete consent and after you two had been dating for a while.

However, he wouldn't spend time planning the kiss or creating a romantic scenario, he’d want it to be spontaneous and in the moment; he’s simple in that way.

You and Tanjiro spent the day training and, now exhausted, you both laid on the floor in an attempt to stabilize your breathing. “You’ve grown as a fighter so quickly (y/n), I’m impressed. Not that I didn’t think you could do it, of course.” Tanjiro commented from the floor, watching you slowly sit up. “Well I’ve had a great teacher” you winked, poking at his side causing Tanjiro to laugh. He sat up, smiling lovingly at his girlfriend. Girlfriend; he loves the fact he can call you that. It had only been a few weeks, but it seems like he asked you out months ago, you two were just so comfortable with one another.

Of your short relationship, the biggest obstacle Tanjiro’s has had to overcome is the ability to do normal relationship things without asking first, even if you’ve said it's ok. For example, the first time he tried to grab your hand without warning, his fingers shook and his face was red. It’s one of your favorite things about him, how endearing he is.

Today, though, he's able to do such simple gestures without worrying too much. The two of you sat in silence, breathing steady, as you sat facing each other. Tanjiro reached out to grab both your hands, tightly holding them in each of his own larger ones. He wanted to reach that next step with you, but he didn’t know if you were ready. “(y/n), Can I kiss you?” his question was quiet and filled with care, he didn’t want to make you unhappy by moving too fast.

What he didn’t know was that you’d been dying to feel his lips on yours, to feel how they molded together with his, to feel more of him. You didn’t need words to convey your confidence or trust in Tanjiro, so you simply shook your head yes. Eyes closed, heart racing, you hummed in delight as he started small, placing a firm kiss onto your forehead. He leaned lower, pecking the tip of your nose, making you smile fondly. Finally, he delicately placed a tentative kiss on your lips, cupping your cheek in the process.

It was slow and quicker than you’d have liked, but there was time for more later. He pulled away a bit, just enough so you both could lean onto each other's foreheads, smiling in content.

First kisses with Tanjiro are sweet and kind and very, very soft.

Zenitsu

No matter how much he may flirt with you, even after you two get together, this boy will in no way try to initiate the first kiss.

Underneath his crazy antics, lies a boy with horrible anxiety and little self-confidence, so it’d be hard for him to be the one to progress the relationship. That being said, it's not like he doesn’t think about kissing because he does...a lot, but his fear of losing you is far greater than his desires.

Whether it is his ability to take action in battle or training with the others, you try to encourage and praise him as much as possible. This has helped his confidence some, but when it comes to you, he has more to risk than sparring with Inosuke.

It was early in the day, just before the sun's first rays could break the silence of night. You were usually up at this time, early enough to get ready before having to wake the others for whatever the day called for. Usually, in the bed only a few feet from yours, your enthusiastic boyfriend would be snoring away, but this morning he was nowhere to be found.

You silently panicked as you tiptoed out of the room not wanting to wake the others as they slept, bursting into a full sprint once outside. It wasn’t long, though, before you found his blonde head peeking out from behind a bush. Silently, so as to not startle him, you walked over and took a seat next to him. You didn’t say anything, there was no need to, sometimes he just needed you there in silence. Instead, you grasped his hand in yours, giving him a reassuring squeeze and kind smile.

“You know (y/n), You are always saving me, but I never seem to be able to be there for you when you need it. How useless am I, right” his voice was hollow, eyes empty as they gazed into space. Sometimes it was tough to bring Zenitsu out of these spirals, but you had to try, you loved him and could’t stand the fact that he didn’t see himself the way you saw him; brilliant.

The movement of your body shifting in front of his pulled him from his empty thoughts. He was startled as you unexpectedly pulled him into a tight embrace, his hands hung in the air unsure of what to do with them. “Zenitsu, I wish you could see yourself the way I saw you.” you started softly, hand rubbing soothing circles into his back. “You’ve saved me more times than I can count, on the battlefield you never fail to protect me from harm even if it means getting injured. Us being together is something I cherish deeply and I’m grateful that we’ve come together, you make me really happy Zenitsu” you tried to convey every ounce of the happiness the boy has made you feel.  

Zenitsu began to cry into your shoulder, finally returning the hug you’d had him wrapped in. You two sat in silence again, save for the few sniffles that came from your boyfriend, as the sun's early rays began to penetrate the atmosphere. He pulled back after some time, his gaze switching from your eyes to your lips in a silent question. You chuckled as your hands hooked around his neck, pulling yourself significantly closer to the boy who you loved. “You can kiss me, you know”. Those few words were all the confidence he needed as he pulled you the rest of the way, lips meeting in a passionate kiss. His cheeks were damp from crying and his lips were slightly chapped, but none of that mattered because there was nowhere else you’d rather be than with Zenitsu  in the early morning glow.

Inosuke:

In a weird way Inosuke was a simple guy when it came to how he expressed his feelings and emotions; short and to the point. It takes a lot to make him embarrassed, so if he wanted a kiss from you, he’d get it. He sees no point in waiting for that ‘perfect’ moment, it's going to happen eventually so why not right now?

It was just another afternoon with your friends all being patients at the  Butterfly Estate. You’d all gone there after receiving some nasty injuries on the mission you’d all completed. You decided that the fastest way to heal was to sit outside in peace and quiet, allowing your body to do its thing while soaking in the sun and inhaling fresh air.

Well that lasted a good two seconds before your rowdy boyfriend came running around the corner, his boar mask on and swords waving recklessly. Irritated at the interruption, you shouted “Inosuke damn it! You’re supposed to be healing not running around like an idiot” . Your words captured his attention as he changed in direction towards you. “(y/n)!” he laughed, “I already healed, I don’t need any rest like you weaklings!” if you didn’t know better, you’d taken offense to his words but you knew it was all for show.

Inosuke couldn’t even begin running again before he groaned in pain, he’d managed to pull one of his healing muscles by running, “Sit Inosuke” you insisted. He begrudgingly sat cross-legged next to you, murmuring nonsense on his way down. You were the only person he listened too so easily and it amazed the others.

“Here” you moved toward him, “take this off so you can get some fresh air” you explained, removing his mask and gently placing it on the ground. His dark locks tumbled out onto his shoulders and over the bandage that was wrapped around his skull. You frowned as you noticed a small spot of blood that was slowly growing on his forehead. “Inosuke, you managed to open the wound on your forehead again. Aoi isn’t going to be happy about that.” you gently reprimanded, bringing your hand to the spot and slightly applying pressure in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

Inosuke watched in silence as you tended to him. He’d always admired you from the first time you two met. He was riled up by the strength you showed on the battlefield and was determined to fight you. Of course you’ve rejected every one of his requests since, but you didn’t mind the company as he seemed to stick by you like glue. Over time his admiration developed into something more romantic in the sense that he really liked you. So now, as you showed care and kindness towards him, he found it only appropriate to kiss you.

His movements were fast and dramatic as he squished both your cheeks and roughly planted a quick kiss to your lips. You were stunned after he pulled away, his mouth forming a smirk. “What just happened?” you asked nobody in particular. It wasn’t that you minded the kiss, quite the opposite as you’d been crushing on the wild man for forever now, but it was so sudden you didn’t even get to enjoy it. Releasing your face, he triumphantly raised his fist and shouted “(y/n) is mine now! She’s mine so if I see any of you weaklings around here I’ll beat you to a pulp”. Your small chuckled slowly built up to a loud fit of laughter, you held onto your stomach for support. “Oh Inosuke” you smiled playfully up at him. However sweet he was though, you were a woman of revenge and so before he could react, you held his cheeks like he did yours and kissed him, albeit much gentler and for longer. The roles from earlier reversed, as now you were the one smirking in delight and he was the one who sat in confusion.

Genya (This one is a little shorter/ more like a headcanon because I’m only just getting used to his charters so please, bare with me!)

On the outside, Genya looked like a mean, rude, and unapproachable guy, which in some cases was true. For you though, he was just a softy who wanted  love and affection sometimes more than he wanted water and you were more than happy to shower him with it.

Genya would be too embarrassed to initiate the first kiss, that oh-so lovable shy side of himself stopping him from making too many moves on you. It was a miracle he’d been able to ask you out without blowing a gasket, so this was hard for him.

Anytime he’d even get close enough where he could kiss you, he’d bounce away with red checks, almost like he’d been set on fire by your presence. However today you were determined to kiss Genya, even if it meant teasing him a little further than normal.

Your boyfriend had offered to walk you to your room like he does every night, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence. You looked to see if there were others around, happy to find nobody in the corridor. Outside of your door, Genya faced you to wish you a good night, but was caught off guard when you pushed him against your door with much effort and used your arms to trap him there. The scene was actually pretty ridiculous; you were much shorter than he was and if he wanted to, he could have easily pushed you away. “W-what the hell..mph!” he was cut off as you reached up and placed  a rough kiss onto his lips. He didn’t respond right away, and you almost pulled away regrettably, but after a moment he held you in place by snaking his arms around your waist. The kiss became smoother and gentler as time passed, you two quickly melting into one another. Eventually you had to pull away for air, a small string of saliva connecting you two as you both breathed in deeply.

Regaining your breath, you looked up to find his narrowed eyes staring down at yours. He scoffed in a way that would have been off putting if his arms weren’t still secured around you, “If you wanted a kiss you could have just asked” he said as red began to spread even further down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “Ah Genya, you really are the sweetest” you cheered pulling yourself closer to his chest.

“H-hey you moron! We’re in public!” Genya panicked as you laughed at his failed attempt to pry you off his body.

Main Masterlist

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it, please leave a heart/reblog if you’d like. Thank you and please stay safe~Amanda

[wyverian-lady525]

Hey there! Former Astalos anon here, I was wondering if you could do the S/O that heals really quickly with Cheval? Just to see how he would react?

Sure! Nice to see you here! I hope your works are going well!😁 I hope headcanons are okay here, but if you wanted a story I would be happy to do that as well! Don’t be shy!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cheval with an S/O who Has a Super-Fast Regeneration Ability

-At first, Cheval thought you were making things up just so he wouldn’t be so overprotective or jump into danger for you at any opportunity. You figured he would be thinking this way, and decided to prove it to him.

-You could imagine the horror on his face when you decided to let a jaggi tear your arm apart.

-He was beyond angry at how you could let yourself do that. That is, until he noticed that your arm looked as good as new in a manner of minutes. His anger had been for nothing.

-Now, Cheval was simply amazed by your ability. He would have a number of questions as to how and why this happened. Also, he would apologize for not believing you in the first place.

-His apology was adorable as per usual.

-You would be unsure on how to answer all his questions. The only thing you could tell him was that your immune system was pretty powerful.

-Afterwards, he gushes about how amazing you are becuase of that. Our boy praises you big time for your ability to heal so quickly. He brags about you to everyone.

-When Lilia hears this, she tries to rope you into doing more quests which makes Cheval regret opening his big mouth.

-Don't think that your ability to heal quickly will stop him from keeping you safe. That's just how he is, so don't expect him to let you get hurt just because it would only be for a short while.

-He will panic every time a wound looks fatal until he remembers. Still will panic like a mother hen though.

[unreliablefucker]

Kyazumi Hcs (no nsfw)

Kya’s childhood crush was Izumi. While she didn’t remember her actions as a child, Katara and Zuko remember clear as day. Remembering the Five-year-old Kya handing Izumi flowers and sweets every time they visited, Izumi once kissed Kya on the cheek for the flowers, which caused the girl to run to her mom in joy.

Kya and Izumi have been close since the beginning, when they reached their teens out of pure rebellion, Kya began fake dating Izumi to simply piss off her parents. This didn’t work for two reasons, one her parents were supportive of the relationship, and two Izumi started to regret doing it, due to the fact she was gaining feelings for her best friend. Izumi broke it off abruptly with no explanation. Leaving Kya confused as to why she was feeling heartbroken if this was all fake. Because of this, they both grew distant over a year before they started to mend things between them( neither telling each other that they had feelings for each other)

Kya and Izumi began their relationship, years after Izumi had her second child. Kya confessed the day before she had to leave for her travels, she expected to get rejected, but Izumi confessed back with a kiss.

While Izumi offered Kya to be the Fire Lady of her nation. To tell the Fire Nation that they were together. But the Waterbender declined, she didn’t want more attention than she had simply being Aang’s daughter. Izumi wasn’t put down by her response, instead, she crafted an engagement necklace(with the help of Sokka) and proposed to Kya in the South Pole, explaining that if she would prefer of having a small wedding in secret, Kya finally said yes.

Kya had a habit of not opening up to Izumi, being neglected as a child. Not believing her problems were even worth the trouble and often doubted if they were even problems, to begin with. This sparked many arguments in their relationship. Mostly of Izumi begging Kya to tell her what was the problem, and Kya telling her it was nothing. It got to the point where Izumi was close to calling the relationship off. Kya opened up slowly after a heated argument. Only doing it at night, when she wasn’t facing Izumi.

Kya had to use her bending of Izumi more than time times to heal wounds, and that was only because she was there when her partner was injured. Izumi being a nonbender (headcanon dw) meant she was more vulnerable even if she was trained by her Mother and Aunts. Being Royalty to a Nation that was still was being accustomed to change, meant she had faced more threats than she’d like to admit, more than half actually acted on them. She doesn’t voice this knowledge to Kya. Which comes to bite her in the ass decades later.

Could you tell this Ship has the most Angst? :)

[nishigo]

growing. // razor headcanons & writing. // chapter three.

a book titled “growing.”

[ c h a p t e r 3 : simple love. ]

the synopsis reads: razor and the dear reader have gotten themselves into quite the mess. miscommunications and raised voices lead to an argument that was more heated than a flaming flower. although healing takes time, could a wound this large be repaired?

authors note: tada! welcome to the last chapter of this short and sweet book that has been created. this one is more stuffed with more fluff than the last and lots of smooches. razor deserves the best, after all. after you finish, put the book back properly on the shelf, okay, traveler? that way it’s easier for people to find it. (or yourself, if you desire.) i, hao, the librarian and timekeeper, thank you in advance. now, have fun with this last chapter of the book. ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

word count: 1,564 words.

tw: lots of fluff. so much so it could give you a toothache. and kisses as well. a bit of crying in the beginning, but that is all.

request status at time of posting: open.

[ chapter one. ] [ chapter two. ] [ chapter three. ] 

in which there is reconciliation and a bright future planned out underneath a doorway, the moon and stars being the only witness.

would you like to read?

＞　行｡ ( y e s )

＞　不行 。( n o )

------

it would be about three days before you happened to enter mondstadt again.

frankly, you were only in the area because you were passing by, and you were trying to do it as quickly as possible.

after lisa would get her plants and such, you were off again to the inn and then to take up another mission granted to you in the morning.

though, despite the mission you ended up taking solo, you couldn’t stop thinking about that terrible night with razor.

you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him again, knowing that most likely, you’d end up in tears again.

you couldn’t have waterfalls pouring out of your eyes in front of someone that meant so much to you.

but fate seemed to be pushing its luck, and the stars were aligning just for the two of you.

you and razor stared at each other for a moment, as if the other was an apparition and they were dreaming. his rough, calloused hands took a hold of one of your own gentle ones.

no, this was real alright.

the two of you were both afraid to make the first move, but once more, razor used his instinct to initiate what he thought was needed.

his strong arms wrapped around your neck, nuzzling into the soft skin.

you felt so warm.

you felt cozy.

you felt like home.

course, you were caught off guard, and as much as your brain told you to pull away, you heard him whisper into your ear.

“i missed you.”

and then the walls came tumbling down.

your previous attitude towards him was diminished, and you were back to where you started.

you were still in love. and now, he knew he was as well.

Razor pulled away, and for the first time, you were able to take in much more detail than what you had initially seen. There were tired bags under his eyes, his face worn out, as if he had not been able to sleep for weeks. His silver hair was a mess under his hood and his voice was much quieter, as if he was stepping on eggshells while determining how to make his next move. You gently reached out, cupping his cheek with that gentle, comforting smile you always wore.

His body shook as he suddenly felt as if his insides were collapsing. He felt his face grow hot with tears that ran down his pale skin, over his scar, and down onto the tiled floor. He felt so guilty for what he had done to you that he was terrified that you would seek vengeance. Or that you would leave. The latter was much more terrifying, as he hated when you were gone for a few days, how could he handle not seeing you for the rest of his life? Seeing your hands raise up, he braced for impact of a harsh hit to the face with his eyes squeezing shut.

“Shhh, Razor...it’s okay.” You murmured softly as he felt two soft hands delicately cup his face. Your thumbs would run along his smooth skin, wiping away the tears that continued to flow down. Your own eyes would water, but by the grace of the stars, you were able to keep somewhat of a composure. He opened his eyes just barely, enough to see you again at least. Confused by the look he was giving you, you began to carefully let go and put your hands down before he grabbed your wrists in a swift motion. Back they went to his face, and back you went to wiping his tears and simply holding his head in the doorway.

“Y/-Y/N. I am s-sorry. I h-hurt you. Didn’t m-mean to, just n-no know what l-love was.” Razor managed to choke out through staggered breaths and hiccups. You kept up your affection, smiling gently as you let one hand go of his cheek.

“Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have run off so fast and had more patience with you. I’m sorry myself.`` To calm him down further, you hesitantly lifted a hand and ran it through his silver locks. Razor froze for a moment, but he relaxed further into your touch as he tilted his head more towards the hand, similar to that of what a cat would do. Silence ran its course as you two slowly began to heal from the wounds of that night.

“I love you.” He stated simply. It almost slipped your mind as you continued to play with his hair and cup his cheek, but you did a double take as you stared at him.

“You...you what?”

“I love you.” Razor repeated again, a bit louder this time in case you couldn’t hear him or something of the sort. You were about to ask him if he was joking, but his face held a serious look to them as it dawned on you. He really meant it. Granted, it was the most simple, basic way to confess feelings back towards a person, but you didn’t mind. It was what made him charming and attractive to you anyways.

“Why do you love me?” Razor paused to think about it, deep in thought as he did his best to string the words Lisa recently taught him together into something worth remembering.

“Simple, love. Love is a person, like how mate is a being. Therefore, you are love. Warm, safe, kind. Easy to be vulnerable and be...Razor. Guard down.” He explained to you with a sweet look on his features. Despite his limited vocabulary, you were deeply touched. He took the time to think and make sure his point was clearly mentioned. Razor grinned happily as he tilted his head at you. The air was light again, the heavy feeling replaced with his heart being ecstatic as he didn’t have to even say anything else. He could feel how happy you became from hearing what he said. It was good he could sense your happiness, because you were left speechless.

“Be my love? Please?” Razor asked quietly as you continued your silent streak. Since you were at a loss for words, and because you knew his love language was physical touch, you decided to show rather than tell. Your hand that was on his cheek trailed down his face and found its place wrapped around his hips. Then, with one swoop, you pulled him in closer to you and gently collided your lips with his.

It was if a supernova had exploded inside of his chest. The feeling was forgein, unfamiliar. Perhaps this technique of two lips put together was a human tradition he had yet to learn. He didn’t know what to do, so he mimicked you a bit. He opened his eyes slightly and then watched as you leaned in. He would then mirror the action for a few seconds before you pulled away. He knew that whatever you had just done to him was a way of saying yes. He just knew, and he loved it. The affection and having your full attention was all he could ever ask for. In fact, Razor found himself wanting more as he cutely pouted.

“More please?” You laughed, covering your mouth a bit as you nodded your head and cupped his cheeks again. You peppered your kisses all over his face: on his forehead, nose, temple, chin, the corners of his lips. Razor huffed adorably as he shook his head, pointing at his lips.

“You miss! I want here, love!” Razor whined, though, his complaining was stopped as you kissed his lips again. He melted in your hold, and there was no better feeling in the whole world. The boy would pull away this time, panting softly as he curiously touched his lips with his hands. It was amazing every time he received them, and he knew that he would never grow tired of them. Perhaps you could give him lessons, he thought. Then he would become an expert! Yes, that sounded like a plan. But that would come at a later date.

For now, he wanted to spend the night with you in his arms again.

------

some extra things i’ve thought of:

he would have totally dragged you into the guest bedroom where he was staying and given you a bunch of grass and flowers he had arranged.

(“give her a gift she will appreciate, something from nature!” was what lisa suggested.)

the roots were still there, along with heaps of dirt, but you found it endearing nonetheless as you laughed and accepted them.

he also got you chocolate covered strawberries! he had made them with klee (a mistake on lisa’s part, she will never let those two in the same room unsupervised again, especially not a kitchen.)

he would make it up to you by practicing how to formulate sentences under the bright sun in wolvendom.

you would reward him with kisses or headpats, so he worked extra hard in order to improve his linguistic skills.

because of being a bit traumatized from being seperated from you for so long, he gets a bit of separation anxiety when you leave him for too long. he’ll do missions or even go shopping with you just to ease himself down.

also hold his hand :(((

or any words of affirmation will do , he loves both when they come from you :))

[meher-sumedha]

Gwynriel Headcanon - Part 2 (The dinner)

Nesta was struck when she heard her sister say those words. She didn't move or speak when Gwyn ran out. She couldn't. It was her idea to invite Gwyn. Gwyn had been healing so much since the last few months and her wounds were finally becoming scars but after today, she knew that those old wounds had been ripped open in the worst possible way.

She felt angry at Elain for saying those words but more than that, she was guilty. She was the one who invited Gwyn. Nesta's eyes became empty and Cassian saw that before taking her out of the room and flying off somewhere.

Elain was crying. No one said or talked to her. Feyre and Rhys walked out of the room and then Mor and Emerie winnowed away. Leaving Elain and Azriel.

Azriel should have gone after Gwyn, his shadows were trying so hard to pull him from his spot, but Elain needed him. He assured them but they were still restless, knowing that something had gone terribly and utterly wrong.

To his surprise then Elain started crying and he immediately went to hug her. No matter how much the shadows tried to pull him back. "I-I'm so sorry Az, I didn't mean a word of it, I really didn't" She said in between her sobs.

"Shh, it's alright, I understand". He said even though he didn't. He had never said anything so hurtful to anyone. Of course he had tortured many people but only physically, never mentally. Cause mental torture is so much worse than anything physical. Your worst fears come to life through mental tortures. He knew that.

He just held her for a long time when he knew he should've gone after Gwyn, who needed him the most right now.

Gwyn right now was utterly in darkness. No, she didn't think the words Elain said were false, they were true and she knew that. The fact that they were true hurted her more than anything.

She could never repay Rhys' kindness. She could never pay them back. She couldn't save her sister. What was she even good for? She thought to herself and those old thoughts of leaving the world started entering her mind.

But she didn't let them. She cried and cried but not once give in to those thoughts and think about them. Elain was right and she could never prove her wrong. But what she could do, is prove herself right.

She could become a warrior in exchange for the services she gets at the house. She didn't want to be in someone's debt anymore. She didn't want to be dependent. She wanted to be her own person. And even if she died while working for Rhys, she didn't care. Cause she never made a difference in this world. The world won't stop revolving just because she's dead.

She won't give up so easily. She would never yield. Even in training. She would never yield, she always found another way and this was no different.

She didn't talk to anyone for a few days, didn't come to training. She read about spies and what they do and tried to learn her best. She spent all the time in her Library but then she felt his presence there.

His shadows came towards her to play but stopped, cause they sensed and understood her grief and knew they couldn't help her in any way.

She finally turned around to find the shadowsinger, he was nervous and couldn't meet her gaze. She stood up and nodded. "Shadowsinger" She said. "Gwyn-", "Gwyneth, my name is Gwyneth". "How are you? ", he simply asked, not knowing how dangerous her answer could be.

"I'm as well as I could be, but I need to talk to you" She said and gestured him to follow her to her room. He did. Gwyn's eyes finally softened now, not like the eyes she had outside, which were dead and had no hope. "I'd like to see all your shadows at once", She said. "My shadows? What does that have to-" He was cut off by her eyes begging him to do so.

The room was filled with shadows trying to play with Gwyn's hair and make her smile. She finally smiled after what felt like days. Azriel's heart melted at her smile but she always used to giggle when the shadows were around, she didn't this time.

The shadows were swaying at her feet, playing with her hair and doing everything to make her feel better. "I have to talk to you all", she said to all the shadows. They all stopped, observing the change in her tone. Azriel didn't know what happened, his shadows never stopped. They were always doing anything and everything and literally the opposite of whatever he said but they listened to her.

"I'm afraid we have to say goodbye. I love you all very dearly but I think it's time for you to find a new girl to laugh. It should be Elain. " She said and the shadows started to fly in the room, a clear sign that they were angry. Azriel started to speak but she dismissed him with a mere hand.

"I will always have a special place in my heart for you, but please find another girl whom you would be happy playing with, a girl who is Elain, because we cannot spend any more time with each other. You should get to know her, not me. She's the one who deserves you, not me. " She said and the shadows were more restless than ever but Azriel silenced them.

"I guess this is goodbye" She said to Az before he could near and pointed to her door. "I'm sorry" She said, her voice breaking and tears on the verge of coming out. Azriel obeyed. Not knowing what else he could do. He would never disrespect her choices or wishes. Even though every ounce in his body was telling him to do so just this once.

When he walked out he looked at the door again, his eyes begging for Gwyn to stop him. "Goodbye Azriel" She said before gently shutting the door and leaning down on it. She had mastered the art of not making any noise while crying. Only silent tears came out of her eyes.

Azriel wanted to break something, anything. Just so that he could avoid the hollow feeling that was forming in his heart, the hollow which used to be filled by Gwyn's presence.

The next morning he didn't go to train but when straight to Rhys' townhouse, surprised to see Gwyn all packed up there. In her Valkyrie leathers. "You're leaving? " He asked. Rhys answered for her. "Yes, but for a short period of time. She is going to Tarquin's court to maintain our relations with the summer court and train some warriors as Tarquin is running short on them. "

"You're sending her alone? ", He asked in a deadly voice. Rhys didn't reply to that. "I'll go with her" He declared. Gwyn's eyes finally shot to his, finally acknowloging he was even there in the first place. "Gwyn that would be a good idea. If there are any problems, he'll help you. And he already knows how to be a trainer and can help you, but if you are uncomfortable then he won't go". Rhys replied.

"No, it's fine, just pack your bags fast, we're leaving by 12." She said in a warrior's tone. No sign of hesitation and low confidence. Then Elain suddenly entered the room. "Morning Az" She said to Azriel. Not even bothering to acknowledge Gwyn or apologize. Azriel was surprised that she wasn't already at Gwyn's feet begging for her forgiveness.

"What's going on? ", she asked while rubbing her eyes. "Azriel is leaving for the summer court" Rhys replied. Apparently in the mood for some drama. "Oh. Can I go too? ", "I don't think we'll have any use for you there" Gwyn told her bitterly.

"But I could charm Tarquin and maybe our relations could get better", "That's not how this wor-", "Actually, it's a great idea" Rhys interrupted before Gwyn could finish her sentence.

Azriel shot him a death glare but he could care less. "We already have severed relations with Lucien right now, we can't afford to loose any more allies" He said, although he sounded quite excited.

"Fine, pack light, we leave by 12" Gwyn said to Elain before walking out of the room.

They all were ready to leave and they met in front of Rhys' townhouse. Azriel extended his hand to both of them and Gwyn hugged his neck. "I think we would be better winnowing", Elain said. "It would be faster" Azriel said, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Fine" Gwyn replied and they winnowed off to the summer court.

A/N : Huuge Plot twist coming 😀

[divinerivals]

I came across your acotar blog and saw you take prompts... mine is a little evil so if you want to ignore it then feel free :) So I had a headcanon that Feyre and Rhys' next kid was a girl. Nyx adores his little sister to bits too. When she comes of age, during a court ball, Tamlin sees her and decides he wants to claim her as his - especially since she looks so much like her mother (but with her father's powerful gifts)... so he steals her away to spring court. Nyx is devastated at losing his sister to *him* (knowing what he put his parents through). Like maybe Fayre, Rhys and Nyx have to rescue her - or maybe it turns out that their daughter is Tamlin's mate (I did say it was evil so sorry!!).... Anyway, this HC is cursed but I needed to share it with someone who loves ACOTAR. lol I asked someone else and realised they no longer like ACOTAR and hadn't posted since '19 *facepalm*

I'm gonna answer this incase anyone wants to take a spin on this. If its okay with you nonnie. I ship feysand. I adore Nyx but I'm not to a point where I can dedicate the time I need to for something like this. I also am not a Tamlin fan so writing him willingly lol

I do wanna weight in my thoughts. Starting with I don't think this is evil or cursed at all! I think this is a great drama filled idea. A little weird given Feyre and Tamlin's past but hey! I'm sure it's not the only time it's happened. I mean fae are immortal and this can't be the only time something like this happened.

Anyway, this kinda has a Hades and Persephone vibe so I'm for it. Sorry I don't have a name for her lmao. This more like an overview of an idea.

Imagine Tamlin being completely shook that Feyre is there only it's not Feyre when he sees her upclose. There's a slight purplish hue to her eyes not that of Rhys or Nyx but enough for him to know.

He takes her for a reason (an incident happens at the ball, he hasn't seen night court in years and thinks this is a ploy or a spy situation he takes her to question, simply takes her out of curiosity)

Some point she tries to escape, but she doesn't known the dangers that haunt the Spring Court. She's heard of course but it's different to be against them. Tam senses it and goes after her. Perhaps this is a mate moment where he realizes. Or not. Yeah let's say he feels a pull. Either way she's hurt and he needs to take care of her.

It's weird for him because she's so much like Feyre. It's stirring wounds, distant memories he long since buried but never healed from. He mutters something about her being too much like Feyre. She questions and pushes. He pulls well a Tamlin aka they argue and he leaves.

They don't see much of each other the next few days. Until he checks on her she asks about her mother, as a human. She apologizes for pushing but shes simply curious of her mother before the change. She wants to know about her being human.

He sighs and something in him caves. He doesn't know why but he tells her of his Feyre as a human. In this talk he assesses her bandages from the attack with gentleness speaks with kindness. Something he never does. It opens up a weird trust between them.

They talk more over the weeks leading up to Summer Solstice. Tam pulls a scene similar to one with Feyre in acotar..freaks out and leaves. She follows and pushes and pushes.

"Let it go." Tamlin snarls

"Have you learned nothing? I never let anything go."

They go away. Far away from the celebration and fight it gets ugly and Tamlin just goes off on his feelings about UTM and since then. She doesn't know what to think about it, so she let's him go. All she's told her life wasn't a lie, but one sided. They were her mothers views. Her mother, didn't seem to notice how deeply he suffered and still is. How terrified he was that she never came back. But she also knows the bad things, like Tamlin locking Feyre away.

Watching him leave she realizes she that she has feelings. Deep feelings for Tamlin and it doesn't make sense because he was her mother's lover. But she can't help heart and she can't, won't let him suffer in pity. So her heart guides her steps leading to his room. Something like this happens when he opens the door.

"Why did you lock her up against her will? My mother. Do you regret it?"

"It's complicated."

"It's not."

"Why are you pushing this?"

"Because I want. No. need to know." Her hand lays over his fist curled into the door frame. "Please Tamlin."

Their eyes meet and he can't deny her. He gestures for her to step inside. His rooms are scarce. Not much beyond furniture she holds her tongue about it.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting her...."

He goes on to speak disturbing thoughts Amarantha placed in his head made true by visions Rhysand put in there. He knew they were false but still once there he couldn't let them go. Every time he looked at Feyre he saw those visions, Everytime he looked at Feyre he heard the crack of her neck. He was terrified of someone coming to get her.

"I do regret it. Had I not perhaps she'd be here still."

She nudges his arm, "then I wouldn't.'

He grins at the flooring before looking at her. Realizing all the grief and heartache from Feyre was all for this. For her. Feyre was never his, she was.

"When Lucien." He swallowed thickly another person he wronged. "Returned speaking of Feyre with Rhysand I think I knew then what it meant. I was driven by jealously and anger then."

They talk more and kiss. It gets hot and heavy but interrupted and she leaves.

Feyre, Rhys, and Nyx show the next day. It gets ugly between Rhys and Tamlin when Rhys smells his daughter off Tam, Feyre gets angry too. Nyx finds and takes his sister. She fights the entire way. Rhys tells Tamlin if he goes after her there will be punishment. Tamlin sees a glimpse of her kicking and fighting in Nyx's grasp reaching for Tam. Her eyes pleading.

The bond snaps in place as she disappears.

Feyre and Rhys try to tell her how terrible Tamlin is and she gets it and understands but tries to get them to understand him. They won't..feyre claims he's charmed her its not real. She doesn't believe her. They forbid her from leaving. She tries leaving and is caught. Now she's locked in her room and she's crying.

Annnnd this is where my thoughts stop lmao. All I know after this is Tamlin does go after. Reveals they're mates and hea. But not before Rhys and Tam fight it out

[bloodyfoxcrew]

Magic HC-Healing

Headcanon of how healing magic works in the Spiral Stories Universe.

HC

There are two types of healing in the SS Universe, pure Theurgy healing and typically healing. Born Theurgists or those trained specifically in Theurgy, not simply healing, can do pure Theurgy healing.

Typical healing can be described as "speed up healing". Healing a wound this way magically speeds up the healing, like closing an open cut to a fresh scab. Most wounds an average magic user runs into can be taken care of with this form of healing. Those that are involved in combat/fighting, however, must be careful when using this healing. Since this healing goes right to "speed up healing", a magic-user must consciously redirect the magic to correcting anything wrong in a wound to prevent incorrect healing (EX: a broken nose healing crooked). They would then have to cast another spell to speed up the healing. This costs precious mana and time a healer may not have in emergency situations.

Pure Theurgy healing is much easier on the caster and doesn't take as long for the healer to cast. Pure healing corrects anything wrong with the wound and speeds up the healing in one spell. So a Theurgist has a better chance of saving a life in an emergency than a non-Theurgist, which is why they are so highly respected in the magical community.

This doesn't mean a Theurgist will be able to save every life-threatening injury. Spells can be altered to be more difficult to heal or are laced with a sort of magical poison that could prevent magical healing. Both of these are difficult for the attacker to do, especially in the heat of a fight, but they are something healers have to watch out for.

Thoughts/Thought Process:

In-Game Translations/Explanations:

Emily is a Sorceress, so her primary healing would come from the spells in-game "Helping Hands" and "Availing Hands". With these two being over-time healing and a good majority of non-life school healing spells being over-time healing, I thought that would be a good split. This also gives me a bit of freedom for Emily to be able to heal her crew and friends without it being OP 😂

I'm gonna explain that non-life spells that heal in one go like life healing require the student to study Theurgy enough to tap into Pure Theurgy magic.

Final Thoughts:

So yeah that's how healing works in Spiral Stories Universe! I think the next SS Worldbuilding post will be either Shadowmancy and the cost of "boosting" spells or explaining in-universe mana. See how much time I'll be able to work on either of them!

Also, I may update this post with art/visuals if/when I ever get around to it! I'll add an edit mention above the cut if/when I do so.