#⊰ 🩸 // ASKS » when she talks she talks like she can handle it. ⊱

[nicawlette]

On Valentine's Day, Nicolette wakes to a fresh bouquet of roses (pink, red, and purple) along with a matching card next to a box of chocolates (homemade, what else?). There's no sign of Wang Yi in the room, but the sounds and scents of breakfast cooking comes from somewhere downstairs. Opening the card reveals a simple message:

Nini, Happy Valentine's Day. I thought you'd like the candy theme since it looks like half the city's buried in sweets by now. That aside, if you want to go somewhere less sugary for the holidays, I think we can barricade ourselves in one of the extra rooms upstairs and have a movie marathon to start. I already baked the snacks. :) And if that sounds too ordinary, I'm ready to be your Candy Warrior or whatever's in now, anytime. I've already cleared out my day, so let's do anything we want, all right? Yiyi

The first thing she notices upon surfacing from the depths of peaceful rest is the cool, empty space beside her. It's something she's still getting used to experiencing, after many fitful nights— a slow, content rise rather than an anxious one. She finds herself feeling rather lazy most mornings as of late; today is no exception, eyes refusing to open while a hand pats blindly around the mattress in futile search for the body that should be there.

Nicolette gives up quickly, growing more alert when her nose catches the faint floral scent in the air that wasn't there the night before, when she'd successfully bullied Wang Yi into sleeping beside her. The realization of what he's done is enough to wake her completely, and she turns over onto her stomach, eager to admire the lovely bouquet and snatch the card from the bedside table.

It takes all of her self control not to jump out of bed and head straight for the vibrant sounds of life coming from elsewhere in the mansion. Instead, she takes her time reading over the carefully handwritten note, grinning wider and wider at her lover's blunt sincerity and clumsy romance. Nicolette can't help but be won over by it, kicking her feet and giggling like a lovesick fool at the cheesy one-liner. Bringing the card towards her flushed face, she breathes in the faint scent of him left clinging to the paper and ink.

Embarrassing! Oh, she wants to kiss him right now!

Nicolette rolls onto her back with a soft sigh, head resting against his pillow where the smell lingers strongest and presses the note against her rapidly beating heart. It's all rather pathetic, this reaction— this elation— to such simple acts, but she does not fight it. It feels too good.

Five more minutes, Nicolette decides. To bask in this pleasure of being considered ( cherished ), in the privacy of her bedroom. Then she will get out of bed, grab both flowers and homemade chocolate, and head downstairs to the kitchen, where someone rather lovely was waiting for her arrival.

They had all day, after all.

[tinylilacbun]

is it possible to request Rafe (and JJ if you want!) with a depressed little?

recently I’ve had not motivation to do thing and just lay in bed. I’m even failing to take care of myself so I NEED a Rafe with a little like that

-🩸

"C'mon, cupcake, let's just go to the beach for a bit or wherever you want." JJ coaxes you to come out of bed for the third time already, rubbing a hand gently up and down your arm.

"No wanna..." You mumble, burying your face further into the pillow, clinging onto your stuffie. "Jus wanna s'eep."

His shoulders slump at that. "Okay, I'll be back in a minute." He sighs, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead before getting up from the bed and out into the hallway where Rafe - who also already tried to get you out of bed - is leaning against the wall right next to the door, watching JJ close the door softly.

"And?" He asks, nibbling on his thumb, only receiving a shake of the blonde's head. "A'ight..."

"What do we do now?" JJ questions, running a hand through his hair. "She's like a whole other person."

"It's just because she's off meds, her doctor isn't available 'til next week. So, all we can do is be there for her and- and help her out. Like always." Rafe breathes out, to which JJ nods.

You're obviously still in bed when the door opens again, now sucking on a pacifier as both your boys come into the room, having gentle yet concerned smiles on their faces as they approach the bed.

"Hey, baby. You feeling a little sleepy today?" Rafe asks, smoothing some of your hair behind your ear as you nod slowly. "That's fine. How about a shower, huh? Could make you feel a little better."

Again - as to everything they suggested by now - you shake your head, messing a bit with the ear of your stuffie.

"No? Well, how about a bath then? You don't gotta do a thing, we'll handle everything, yeah?" He then suggests, waiting patiently for you to decide.

When you eventually agree he carefully scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom while JJ gets you a fresh set of clothes to put on afterwards.

Rafe keeps you in his hold the whole time until he's able to lower you into the bathtub filled with warm water and some bubbles, reaching out to grab the custom made pacifier from your mouth but you instantly whine, turning your hand away.

"Shh, okay, you can keep it. I just didn't want it to get wet and lose some of the gems." He assures you, waiting for JJ to come hold your head up in a comfortable position because it seems you don't feel like moving at all today.

It takes a while but soon you're back out of the tub, sitting on JJ's lap as Rafe gets you dressed again, both being as gentle as they can be.

JJ is then the one to carry you back into the bedroom, setting you down on the bed and making sure you're tucked in comfortably, being his usual cheeky self to make you smile even just a tiny bet.

Rafe meanwhile prepares some sandwiches and sippy with juice for you, knowing you haven't consumed anything since you woke up and it's almost 3 pm.

Thankfully they managed to get you to eat a few bites and at least half of your sippy before settling on each side of you for some peaceful cuddles.

Rafe is spooning you from behind, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close while JJ's facing you, tracing his fingers from your shoulder to your elbow and back up.

The boys chatted over whatever, occasionally bickering but keeping it lightly with you present. That's until they hear you start to sniffle all of a sudden, quickly turning their attention back to you.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?" JJ asks, propping himself up a bit to place a hand on your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb.

You can feel Rafe's hold around you tightening a fraction at your emotional distress, now sitting up a bit as well to look over your shoulder. "Talk with us..."

"I-i...m'sowwy." You sob, burying your face in your plushie, not even knowing what you're apologizing for right now, just feeling overwhelmed with those giant feelings in such a small headspace.

"What are you sorry for, button?" JJ questions, watching you shrug, still hiding your face from them.

"Is- s'jus a lot..." You sniffle pitifully.

Rafe understands immediately, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple. "It's okay, I get it. All those feelings are just too big for you right now."

You nod at that, curling into yourself a bit, feeling the boys wrapping you in their arms, calming down from their mixed scents and calm beating of their hearts in the quiet room.

Despite the storm going on inside you, you feel protected and loved, all thanks to the only two people in your life who don't push you away for how you feel and hold you safely in their arms even when their relationship with each other isn't the greatest yet they only care about your well-being than over their own comfort.

[lostpiewrites]

Hello, can I please request a second part of Umemiya, aaaa I loved it. I want to know how he's going to take care of his queen Ume. Maybe Higari told Sakura that Ume can't control himself if his sister Kotoha or, in this case, the reader gets hurt.

a/n : OMGOMG i am glad you liked ittt. 🩷My little blog is growing bigger by baby steps , i am shitting tears rn. 🥹 here we go with the second part. For anyone who is seing this post first , this is a continuation of the first part. You can read it here.

Gangs , Guns , Bitches (Pt.2) 🔪🩸

ft : Umemiya Hajime from Windbreaker.

synopsis : when a boy learns from his mistakes , he grows into a man.

You let go of the hug a few moments after. You were too tired and injured to talk. But you wanted to ask him things.

"Why Ume ?"

It was only plain two words , but heartbreak in your voice was loud and clear. It was plain but damn him if it didn't stab his heart and shatter it into pieces. He teared up.

"I am sorry. I should have explained. From the start."

Nothing else needed to be said between you because tears , hugs and unsteady limbs were talking loud enough. He let go of you to inspect your body all over. You were injured , hardly. It was a surprise how you were even conscious at this point. He looked back at the other boys from Furin , asking them to go arrange the nearest hospital for your treatment. His throat was locked up in suppressed need of crying and regret but only his closest friends , 4 kings, understood what was going on with him emotionally. You didn't last long awake and lost conscience again. He then gently scooped you up in his arms in a bridal style , slowly walking out of KEEL's hideout to take you to the said hospital.

During the walk there , the first years were stunned into silence. The 3rd and 2nd years have seen Umemiya lose his temper badly before when Kotoha was kidnapped in the same way as you last year but by another group and she returned home in a better condition than yours. But it was the 1st year's first time seeing their kindergarten-escapeé leader lose his cool and beat people to death instead of trying to talk and making compromises. Sakura was blinking rapidly , trying his ABSOLUTE VERY hardest to not blush in the adorable scene in front of him , he couldn't handle you and Umemiya's relationship at all , esp seeing it firsthand. He first thought that Kotoha was his gf and his poor cheeks were relieved when he learned she isn't but he actually had a gf ? Hiragi chuckled and patted his shoulder.

"You okay there our dearest tomato ? Better get you used to it. Now that the whole school has learned of them , y/n will be in our sight more often. She will now freely visit us at school because other gangs will probably hear about this and learn about her afterwards. Tho i have got to admit , it's only the 2nd time i have seen him like that. It only happened for Kotoha before , but now we have another woman on our 'die but protect her' list."

First years listened in as well even tho the talk was directed to Sakura. The last sentence was a gentle ask between friends , companions... They swore internally that they would help protecting you. Nirei was madly writing things down , opening a fresh page for your infos.

When you guys arrived at the hospital , even the doctor's who have supposedly seen worse winced at your injuries. No one questioned what happened but they saw Furin almost alltogether AND Umemiya , the village's no1 protector , is bringing an injured girl into the hospital in his own arms ? They would definitely treat you like royalty. A group of nurses rushed to bring you a hospital bed and carry you into the treatment room. They sew your wounds , put some ices on the bruises and inspected your body for any broken bones.

Umemiya was in distress , sitting outside of your room with Furin boys beside him and waiting for your examination to be over. When the nurse comes out he jolts up from his seat and goes to ask about you. The nurse reassures him that you aren't in a critic condition , but also tells that some of your knife injuries and bruises would leave permanent scars. He thanks the nurse and sits back down , lowering his head in shame. He failed to protect the dearest people to him from danger , yet again.

After a few days of intense medical treatment and physical therapy , you were now allowed to go back home. Umemiya takes you from the hospital back to your house and stays with you for weeks until everything is over. Helps you apply ointment to your wounds and bandages them back with care. Doesn't let you roam around the house doing chores for a looooong while. Then when everything is over and you don't have to bandage your wounds anymore , he cuddles you and kisses every permanent scar left. You laugh because it's ticklish but he doesn't. He regrets it , a lot... But now that you are still in his arms , he has one more chance to make everything right... Right ?

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🧑‍🚒🧑‍🚒🧑‍🚒🧑‍🚒🧑‍🚒🧑‍🚒🧑‍🚒🧑‍🚒

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️

🔍🔍🔍🔍🔍🔍🔍🔍

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

24 for 🧑‍🚒

---

 “Ladder is like twenty feet away. You can swim it?”

“Yeah,” Harry confirms. 

And not once does he imply that Harry made a mistake or overreacted or should have handled the situation differently. 

April, 2026

“So he saved you,” Frank says. “And that fixed things?”

“Yes?” Harry frowns. “Okay, well no. I mean, maybe it helped. But I was still mad at him. We still had to talk.”

“Were you mad that he saved you?” Frank asked. “While you were mad at him?”

Harry considers this. 

“Yeah,” he says. “There was probably a bit of that.”

“Why do you think that was?” Frank asks.

“It just didn’t seem fair, you know?” Harry sighs. “Like, he got to be shitty for weeks, then all of a sudden, he’s the good guy? Swooping in and being kind and considerate. I was annoyed.”

---

24 for 🩸

---

Well, okay. Sure. He must have. An obliterated grave. A dead body. He hadn’t been thinking. He couldn’t think. 

Shit. 

“Do you think she really does?” Buck asks. 

Yes, Bobby thinks she really does. 

If Athena thinks they’re connected, but thinks he’s dead, does she think whoever took his body also killed Gerrard? Why would she think that? What could the motive be? 

“I don’t know,” May says. “But she’s not going to stop until she proves it.”

“I thought she quit the force?” Buck asks.

Quit? Athena quit her job? Over this? No. No way. That’s not okay. 

---

24 for ☣️

---

Chim is in Gila Bend. No word on Bobby yet. 

They could have separated them. He could be dead. They just don’t know. Buck is going to really hope it’s the former option, and stick to that hope if he wants to get Chim out alive. He can’t fall into despair right now. 

“What do we do now?” Hen asks. 

Everyone has grimness behind their eyes. They’re all thinking the same thing. 

“We can’t assume it’s as unguarded as last time,” Eddie says. 

Buck nods. “Chim clearly holds value to him. Ravi, do you have any idea why?”

Hen’s ability had made her a liability. Too likely to cause damage. Easier to wash their hands of her and hold onto the other two they had left. Or so Buck assumes. Which means Chim’s not as dangerous. Probably?

“Whenever I tried to get to him, he was alert,” Ravi says. “He seemed okay. I never… I mean, I never got more than a few seconds.”

---

24 for 🔍

---

He’s watching a large glass door shut between himself and another firefighter. Panic rises in his chest, and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know who this is. 

What? Uh, whoa! Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?

He hears his own voice, raspy with fear. Behind the glass door, which Buck clearly cannot get through, the other firefighter begins to move his mask. 

No, no, no, no, no, Cap, don't take it off. Cap! No! What are you doing?

This is his captain? Is this the man who asked him why he didn’t have a couch.

When he removes the mask, Buck sees a very ill-looking man. Grayish skin. Weary eyes. Blood is running from his nose. What the hell happened to him?

He gives Buck a sad but brave sort of look. 

You're gonna be okay, Buck. Remember that.

Buck feels his body pulse with dread.

---

24 for 🔼

---

“Yeah,” Buck sighs. “And I’m not sure everyone is helping. My sister keeps on looking at me, uh, like she thinks I'm gonna die. Again.”

“Well, that I cannot help you with,” she tells him. 

Fair enough. She’s not a shrink. Maybe that’s what he needs. 

“Uh, hey, you, um… You see people who've been through near-death experiences all the time, right?” He asks her. 

She nods. “It's an unfortunately large percentage of my clientele.”

“What happens to them after?” Buck asks. “How are they able to just go back to their same old lives, without…”

He trails off, thinking of that dread welling up in him. He doesn’t like its lingering presence. It’s not him. Or at least he doesn’t want it to be. He doesn’t like the idea of spending so much time fearing death that he misses good things in his life. He thinks that’s what grief did to his parents. He doesn’t want to be like that for his kid. Kids. All three of them. 

---

[pjisskullourful]

ρɛтιтɛ мσят

🩸part 4/? [series masterpost]

Damiano × reader

trigger warning!! pregnancy complications

° Damiano David/female reader insert

° week 31 of your pregnancy with a vampire-human hybrid sees you rushing to the hospital with an unexpected issue

wordcount::::: 3,347

🎧 HOT VAMP SHIT playlist to add to your reading experience🦇 ° requests are soo open! but commissions get priority, secure your spot in my priority list here

-WEEK 31 -

You hadn't told anyone that you were coming to the hospital today because you thought you didn't need anyone to tag along with you. You were so accustomed to seeing Dr Pesce for checkups that this seemed like a scenario you could handle on your own.

Even though this appointment had been made last minute, you were telling yourself it would be just as routine as all of the others. You were willing there to be nothing in today's appointment that made it any more significant than the regularly scheduled visits. Damiano was working in Los Angeles and you were hoping to have no updates to send him, not even a text message would be necessary.

You were here because you wanted her to tell you that the dark discharge you had seen in your underwear yesterday was nothing to worry about. It had appeared out of the blue. There wasn't any pain or unusual discomfort to link it to. You had done your best to stay away from Google, so set on not getting swept up in the worst case scenario.

Dr Pesce had you lay down on the exam bed, you weren't feeling as relaxed as you usually did. She had a nurse assisting her, silent and over her shoulder. 

You were feeling very exposed and vulnerable with your feet separated, lifted in stirrups. Your dress was around your abdomen and your underwear tucked under yourself. It didn't matter that Pesce was gentle and the tools were all lubricated, it felt uncomfortable and alien having these things poking around in your pussy. You kept curling your hands into fists, then out again, only to repeat the process.

A monitor was beeping regularly, helping everyone in the room keep track of your baby’s heart rate. This was the only sound, aside from murmured instructions for different tools from Pesce to the nurse.

It instantly demanded all of the attention when its speed suddenly increased, sounding more like an alarm. You whipped around, looking at the monitor, even though its details weren't clear to you.

“That's not…” The nurse said quietly.

One hand went to the side of your belly, as if this would help to protect the baby. “Is something wrong?”

Pesce was looking at the monitor and frowning, retracting her hands away from your crotch. “She's in a bit of distress at the moment, something is making her heart rate drop.” She turned to the nurse, quietly giving her some kind of instruction that saw her racing from the room, leaving the door open as she went.

Your nerves were threatening to overflow and overwhelm you, the thoughts filling your head already felt like too much to deal with. Pesce got up to stand in front of the monitor, getting more information from it than you could.

“Her heart rate is really dropping.” She said, her words coming out very matter-of-fact.

“Is she gonna be okay?” You asked, your voice cracking in the last word as your throat clenched.

“We’re gonna do everything to make sure she is.” She said, barely distracted as a few new people burst into this once-peaceful room. “We’ll do an emergency c-section so that we can get her out and have greater ability to help her heart.”

“What?” You asked but she had already turned away.

She was talking to the other staff members, a couple of them were wheeling in a gurney. Pesce quickly shared the important information with them. You couldn’t keep up with what she was saying, the numbers that you heard didn’t mean anything to you.

In your fear, you felt small and ineffectual. You wrapped your arms defensively around your tummy. Holding your arms almost around your daughter didn’t feel any different to how it usually did. There weren’t any sensations that hinted at trouble - a complete separation from the energy of everyone else in the room.

“No, it’s too early. It’s too early for her.” You said. The clenching of your throat kept you from projecting your voice and being heard.

You were meant to be pregnant for the next two months, at least.

You had assumed that everything would be fine once the first trimester was over. Damiano, the vamps who worked for him and your friends had been looking out for you, taking such good care of you.

Even with all of this support, you hadn’t been able to keep your baby safe. You could only feel like a failure. It didn’t make sense that you could screw this up. Were you just destined to ruin everything that you came across?

You didn’t know if the baby would be able to survive if they went through with cutting her out of you today. Were her lungs fully developed yet, what about her other vital organs? If she did live, how much of her life would be spent attached to medical machines?

The little life that you had been carrying around with you now seemed so breakable. All of the worst case scenarios occurred to you with vivid images, fraught scenes that felt real enough for you to step into. And maybe you would soon be actually walking into them.

You hadn’t recognised that you had begun to cry until you felt the tears wetting both of your cheeks. You wished to protect your baby, but you were powerless to do that.

“We’re gonna need you to stand up and move to this bed.” One of the people clad in scrubs said to you. Their tone was kind, probably something they had perfected - but you were too stressed to feel any kind of comfort. “Can you do that, sweetheart?”

They offered their hand and you held onto it tightly. Your movements happened thanks to muscle memory, you were too overwhelmed to put any thought into getting your feet on the ground or anything beyond that.

You placed yourself on the gurney, one arm still wrapped around your belly. You had barely had time to swing your legs up onto the bed before it started to move. The team of complete strangers were rushing you out of the room. Once you were in the bright hallway, they began to run, powering the gurney in a new direction. At least you could have your legs together, out of those stirrups, now.

“Is your emergency contact up to date?” One of the women at your side asked. “Sebastian, that’s who you want us to call?”

“Yes, but I think- he’s probably at work.” You were unsure of the words as you said them because your perceptions felt so wrong. You couldn’t properly keep track of what was happening around you, there was too much going on for you to comprehend. Everything was getting lost to the emotions.

“Do you have any allergies?” She asked next.

“No.”

“When was the last time you ate today?” She asked.

“Um…” You shut your eyes, blocking out all of the things flashing past as you tried to concentrate. “I’m not- I don’t really remember…” It seemed so insignificant. “I guess it was breakfast.”

You opened your eyes because it felt like everything had become frozen around you. You found that your bed was now inside of an elevator. The team still surrounded you, that woman continuing to ask you what seemed like the most pointless questions.

The team was sharing information amongst each other, using a shorthand that made things even harder to follow. But you could understand what OR meant. Every reference to it filled you with dread.

But you didn’t have the strength to argue against their decision to take you there. You were becoming numb as the elevator doors opened and you were whisked forward again. You didn’t have it in you to hope for your daughter to survive this operation - it was the least likely scenario playing in your head.

The end of the gurney pushed wide double doors open and you were taken into a new room. It looked just like one of the surgery scenes in Grey’s Anatomy - this time you were the star.

A different member of the team came closer, initiating eye contact. “I’m just gonna have another check of baby’s heart before we switch you over to the operating bed, okay?”

You let your arm drop from your tummy and you looked away. Through a little window, you could see some of the team scrubbing their hands with soap. They were accompanied by a couple of new people. Watching them was easier than seeing the look on this person’s face when they discovered your baby’s heart had entirely stopped.

“Hmm.” You didn’t care to interpret the meaning of their sound.

They took their stethoscope away from your tummy and walked away. You heard their footsteps on the linoleum floors but you didn’t pay any further attention to what they were doing. You kept them out of your line of sight.

When you heard a nearby machine beeping in a consistent and predictable rhythm, you assumed this was your own heart rate. With no alarms sounding, it hardly seemed worth noticing. But of course the doctors would need to keep track of it.

“She’s stabilizing.” They said then they raised their voice, projecting to their colleagues on the other side of the glass. “Hey! Baby’s okay, her heart rate has picked up.”

The responding voice was muffled. “What?”

You whipped around, sitting forward a little. The monitor making this regular sound looked identical to what had been in Dr Pesce’s room. A cord ran from it to your bed, going up to the fabric belt you had forgotten was wrapped around your tummy.

“She’s okay?” You asked, daring to start feeling hope again.

They showed you a smile and turned the monitor so you could see. “Yep. Check it out, a perfectly healthy heart rate.”

The relief was so swift that it didn’t feel real - none of this did. But as you stared at the green lines on the screen, it was continuously affirmed to you that this was reality.

You could let all of the stress and dread wash out of you. You let go of the image of Damiano so furious and disappointed in you. You stopped yourself from picturing what it would be like to go back into your apartment with a flat belly and no baby.

A smile lifted the corners of your mouth and you placed an arm around your tummy, hugging it again. And you could continue to enjoy its fullness for weeks to come.

Some of the other doctors came rushing in, filling the room with a lot of activity. They quickly exchanged information, making decisions faster than you could keep up with.

But you didn’t need to keep up with anything. You could hear the heart monitor beeping at a regular rhythm and all discussions of an operation had halted. You had no reason to worry.

A few of them had gathered in front of the monitor, watching what had interrupted their pre-surgery hand washing. Two of them were confused while the third looked relieved as they kept talking.

“Baby is totally fine…” “Didn’t see that one coming…” “How does that happen…” “Literally, what the Hell…” “I’ve heard about this…” “Lucky…” “So lucky…”

The doctor who had stayed with you while all of the others prepped, turned to you again, still smiling. “She’s doing well. We aren’t exactly sure what happened but it’s good, it’s very good. We’ve paged your doctor and she’ll be here very soon to explain how we’re gonna be monitoring you and baby while we get to the bottom of this. Can I get you anything right now?”

“No, no I'm okay.” You said as you kept your arm around your tummy. You leaned back, the firm gurney feeling more comfortable now. You wiped the tears from your cheeks, not feeling any more excess moisture pricking your eyes.

≿━━━━༺🦇༻━━━━≾

“They didn't cover something like this in Grey's Anatomy.” Sebastian told you. He had finally sat down in the chair beside your bed, after anxiously pacing around as you explained the minor emergency to him.

You were feeling better than before, especially now that it was just the two of you in this hospital suite. The monitor tracking your baby's heart rate wasn't providing any distractions as it remained predictable. You could almost forget about the setting and just feel like you were having a regular hang out with your best friend.

“Maybe they did, but it got overshadowed by McYummy getting stuck in an elevator with someone.” You said.

“There is no McYummy.” He informed you. “So, after two days, if the baby stays relaxed, they'll let you go home and everything should stay fine?”

“Yep, that’s the plan. And they’re gonna keep me pumped up with antibiotics and steroids while I’m here to make sure that happens.” You said, calmly relaying what Dr Pesce had told you.

“Steroids? Are you gonna get ‘roid rage?” He asked.

“Probably, with all of my other raging hormones, let’s just add that to the pile.” You said.

He edged forward in his seat, taking a closer look at the IV bag hanging up at your bedside. “Can I get a hit off of that before I leave? I could go to the gym and show off for the muscle gays.”

You giggled but before you could reply, a staff member came striding into the room. Their face was worry free as they checked the monitors, comparing it to whatever was in the chart. They smiled at you and, upon being posed no questions, then left the room again.

Your eyes travelled back over to Sebastian and you saw a more serious look on his face now. “What?”

“When in this process were you gonna call your baby daddy and tell him about this?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” You said in a half-mumble as you lowered your eyes, now you were just looking at your belly. “I hadn’t planned on that.”

“Sweetie…” He said slowly, full of disappointment.

You turned away from him, giving the window some consideration. “He is overseas, I don’t wanna interrupt his work just to say that I had a close call. It will get him stressed out for nothing and it’s not like he can do anything to help, especially not from America.”

“Don't you think he deserves to know?” He asked.

You drew in a deep breath, reminding yourself to remain calm for the sake of your baby. “I guess I thought I would just message him once I got discharged, let the dust settle and whatnot.”

“Wouldn't he want to know?” He asked. “Granted, I don't know the guy at all, but this is his baby too.”

“I don't want to tell him how I almost fucked this whole thing up today. I almost lost his baby ‘cause I couldn't keep her safe even when she's in my body.” You said.

“But you didn't lose the baby. And it's not like you did any of this on purpose, only a heartless jackass would treat you like you're at fault.” He said.

“You just said you didn't know him at all.” 

You kept your face turned away from him, staring at the light coming through the window. You wanted to blink your eyes and jump forward to the point in time when you were well enough to be discharged. The hospital wasn't home, its environment still imposed seriousness.

“I'm sorry, girl.” He said gently. “I don't wanna upset you or make you do something you don't want to. If having me here is enough for you, then that's all that matters to me.”

“I know and I know you’re right.” You said and you looked back at him just in time to see him do a little victorious fist pump. You rolled your eyes but smiled. “And I know this is a really weird and confusing situation that you have to keep dealing with, especially because you’re my emergency contact. I doubt I would have as much patience as you if the roles were reversed.”

He smiled and picked up the hand you were extending to him. “Aw, sweetie. You definitely wouldn't.”

You giggled, appreciating how he could switch back to talking and teasing you as he regularly would. It was like a break in the crashing waves of your emotions.

But it couldn’t make you forget about what you needed to do. And you figured it would be easier to face with his reliable support.

“Could you please get my phone? They put my stuff in that little cupboard over there.” You said and he stood up from the chair at once.

He didn’t check the device for any notifications as he had playfully done in the past. If he did - he would see that you had missed three calls from Damiano. The singer hadn’t left any voice messages for you, so you stuck to the plan you had already decided on, it felt better to handle this your own way.

“You have to help me figure out what I‘m gonna say to him in this message.” You said.

“Hey seems like a good starting point.” He said. “That’s where I would start.”

You had started to type, you were building the words slowly and cautiously, pausing to backspace every so often. “Right. But there should be something more than that.”

“Definitely, just don’t go into apologising in any way. You have nothing to say sorry about, so keep that out of the message.” He said. “You can just give him the facts of the situation without portraying yourself as a failure. Because you’re not a failure.”

The smile you put on your face felt uncomfortable and you didn’t raise your eyes from your phone. “Thanks, bae.”

You looked up when he placed his hand over yours. “Hey, you’re not a failure. And I’m gonna annoy you with that fact as much as I need to.”

Your smile got a little less strained. “You were annoying me before you started saying-...”

Your teasing was interrupted by the loud trilling of your phone. You looked at the screen and found Damiano’s name attached to the incoming call. You showed Sebsatian as you attempted to prepare yourself for what mood Damiano might be in.

“Absolutely no apologising.” He said sternly, gesturing with his index finger.

You nodded and cleared your throat. You pressed the green icon and started lifting the phone to your ear. Your eyes went to the monitor and you were able to gain some solace from how regular your baby's heartbeat currently was.

“Are you feeling extra sleepy today, little girl?” He asked, sounding sweet for now.

“Huh?”

“You were taking a nap, that’s why you missed my calls, I’m not mad about it.” He said. “And you’ve only just woken up now, I can hear it in your voice. Please tell me what that aggravating beeping in the background is.”

You briefly bit on your lower lip. “Well…”

“Are you at the hospital?” He asked, then didn’t give you the opportunity to reply. “You didn’t have an appointment today.”

“No, I didn’t. This was an emergency kinda thing…”

“Emergency?” He loudly repeated.

“Everything is fine now. We’re both totally okay, there was a little issue but it’s all resolved. That beeping you hear is her perfectly normal heart rate.” You explained in a rush.

He tensely said your name, making it sound like a warning. “What is going on?”

You tried to take in a deep breath, but it shook. Sebastian had moved, sitting himself on the bed with you. You took his hand as soon as he offered it and you squeezed it as you prepared to experience all of the emotions again upon recounting the day.

You weren’t used to hearing Damiano sound so worried. Something completely beyond his control had happened.

You felt guilt. As you spoke, you discovered there was no way to minimise what had happened.

“I'm coming back.” This was his statement once you had finished explaining.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

🍑  taglist: @floral-recs - @gr8rainbowpunk -   @idyllicbutterfly - @maneskindiva - @maneslut - @saschenkaaa   -   @slavicgoddess13 - @elvirabelle - @maneskintifoso     - @thegeminisgirl     - @ha-la-ansia - @butkutee   - @ursulalurks - @itsmaneskinbitch -   @icarodamiano -   @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - @fand0mskullfa1ry -   @lizzylynch1 - @kammerstx - @myleftsock - @tellmesomething01   -    @adoredamianos - @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic - @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis - @shinshans - @lonnybunnys - @lyricalliz - @lifeofa-fangirl - @chemical-killjoy [join here!]

[xxnashiraxx]

Fun Facts About Your Tav!

Thank you for the tags, @pinkberrytea and @kalmiaphlox !!! ❤️❤️

Answering for my Tav/Durge Ofelia from With Stars to Fill My Dream! No pressure tags for my lovely friends @verbenaa @preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @ladyduellist @justabiteofspite @khywren @coyote-mint @bardic-inspo @roguishcat @elinorbard @allymcfee @busy-baker @nerdallwritey @nerdalmighty @lanafofana

Ofelia 🩸

1. Is Your Character Good, Evil, or Neutral? (Makes some good decisions, some bad ones?)

Ofelia's Lawful/Neutral Good- she's not afraid to stand up for herself or those less fortunate and will do what's right even when facing opposition. I answered the questions in this alignment quiz from her perspective, but she's generally a rule breaker, especially when those rules are unjust. If they end up hurting people she's likely to ignore them and break them completely.

2. What Hobbies Do They Partake In?

Since she's a bard, I feel like it's kind of self explanatory lol. Since that's the obvious answer, I'll go more in-depth into the ones she doesn't really talk about that much. She loves to journal- memories are really important to her, and since she'd moved around so much during her childhood, remembering the people and places that left an impression via writing it down became a ritual for her. She loves to photograph things in her spare time, by no means a professional, but she'll often take those photos and put them in her journal. She also loves to read!

3. Do They Own Any Heirlooms From Their Family or Ancestors?

Not really... that question has a bit of a difficult answer. I have some things planned for later in Act 3 that will kind of answer this question, but since they're insane spoilers I won't talk about them.

As for her Earth family, she has some recipes she usually makes to remember them by, as well as her adopted mother's hairstyle- the high braid.

4. Can Your Character Cook?

Since recipes were mentioned before, yes! She's best at making hispanic cuisine, especially her adopted mother's signature dish- pazole! Her other favorites to make are pretty much stealing from my own palette so lots of more ethnic foods.

5. Does Your Character Have a Best Friend?

At this point in the story, she'd probably consider Shadowheart the closest thing to a best friend so far. As for her Earth friends, she did have two who she was going to reach out to before the mind flayer ship took her. Their names were Hannah and Arianna- and they were all in a band together in high school!

6. Their Biggest Fear?

Ofelia's biggest fear is feeling like she'll never belong anywhere. She only had a real family once, and they were taken from her when Bhaal did his fun little possession thing that he does. Aside from them, she's met nothing but terrible people using their positions for their own gain and not caring what happened to those around them. Friends were either killed off by Bhaal when he was able to latch on from so far away or were forcibly removed from her life when she was moved to another foster family. Knowing that she hasn't been able to make genuine connections- whether it be by those means or self-sabotage out of fear of eventually losing them- is something that haunts her the most.

7. Name One of Their Red Flags.

She's generally okay, but I feel like her spells of falling victim to her father's influence are a pretty big one. Chapter 8 was not a shining example of her self-control, lol. She's quick to anger, and will most definitely fly off the handle if she feels like she's been mistreated or disrespected. Not to mention her less-than-stellar track record with communication- which will be biting her in the ass pretty soon in the story.

Again- thank you for tagging me! Sorry this took ages to complete, I have asks to get to as well and I am working on it! (today is pretty shitty, I have to go back to an insane amount of emails at work after being on vacation as well as the overall crap state of my country now, so I'll be fighting for my life lol)

[the-most-humble-blog]

🚨 ALRIGHT MF’RS—YOU WANT EQUALITY? LET’S GET FILTHY 🚨

SHE’S NOT AN ANGEL. She’s just good at lighting a candle before you walk in.

You wanted equality.

Not the fake kind. Not the Instagram-filtered, HR-approved, #BossBabe version. Real equality.

Alright. Let’s talk about piss-stained toilet seats, swamp-ass, bloody underwear, hormonal rage, and the mold growing behind your shower curtain because “self-care” is a vibe, not a lifestyle.

Let’s talk about what happens when the fantasy dies, and all that’s left is bodies, bacteria, and broken illusions.

💄 WOMEN AREN’T CLEANER—THEY’RE BETTER AT HIDING SH*T

We’ve been sold the myth:

Women are dainty

Smell like vanilla and lavender

Never fart

Never sweat

Wipe front-to-back with angel wings

Cry gracefully, and bleed with dignity

Bullsh*t.

According to hygiene studies from the American Journal of Infection Control and the CDC:

🚽 Public toilet swabs showed higher bacterial presence on female bathroom surfaces—especially around sanitary bins, stalls, and seat edges. 👚 Women touch their faces more frequently than men during the day, increasing bacterial transfer risk. 🧼 1 in 3 women don’t wash their hands properly after peeing. That’s data, not misogyny.

So no—femininity doesn’t cancel out funk. It just rebrands it better.

🤢 YOU EVER LIVED WITH WOMEN? REALLY LIVED WITH THEM?

Ask any man who’s cohabitated with a woman—girlfriend, sister, roommate, wife:

They’ll tell you:

“She had 37 open bottles in the shower. None of them worked.” “Tampon wrappers everywhere. Like a crimson confetti bomb.” “The bathroom trash can looked like a crime scene.” “Hair on every f*cking surface. Sink. Floor. Walls. Ceiling fan somehow.”

Women aren’t cleaner.

They just have better scented candles and more expensive trash cans.

🧬 MICROBIOME REALITY: EVERYONE’S A WALKING GERMSACK

You think femininity smells like strawberries?

According to Nature Reviews Microbiology:

The female genital tract contains over 50 different species of bacteria.

The average vaginal pH is acidic enough to kill sperm and burn through fragile ego.

Discharge is a biological necessity—not a shameful secret—but it still ruins sheets, underwear, and hotel towels daily.

That’s not evil. That’s not disgusting. That’s human.

But let’s not pretend women are divine self-cleaning ovens while men are crusty barbarians. Everybody leaks.

🩸 PERIODS AREN’T ELEGANT. THEY’RE A F*CKING MESS.

Let’s finally say it:

Periods are gross. Not because they’re shameful. Because they’re biological warfare between your hormones and your mood.

We're talking:

Random blood clots that look like demonic jellyfish

Cramps that make you hate God

Mood swings that turn “I’m fine” into “I WILL END YOU” in 3 seconds

Tampons shoved into pockets like contraband

Period underwear that could double as battlefield gauze

And yet... Society treats men like pigs for farting, while pretending women can bleed for 5 days without a single ounce of chaos.

Grow up.

🦠 "BUT MEN ARE STILL GROSSER" — SO WHAT?

That’s the fallback, right? Men are disgusting. Men smell. Men don’t wipe properly.

Okay.

You ever met a chick whose makeup brushes have never been cleaned? They’re petri dishes. Full stop.

You ever opened a girl's fridge and seen 17 half-used sauces and expired oat milk from the Obama administration?

You ever looked behind a girl’s toilet and found the Ring of Bacterial Doom?

Don’t talk to me about “men are worse.” Human beings are all nasty. Some of us just light a candle after.

🤫 THE FRAGILITY FETISH: SOCIETY’S MOST PATRONIZING LIE

You know what’s really f*cked?

The idea that women are always gentle, soft, and hygienically pure isn’t respect. It’s infantilization wrapped in roses.

It says:

“You’re not strong enough to be seen ugly.”

“You can’t handle being human in public.”

“You must be delicate or you lose your value.”

It’s not empowering. It’s a prison.

And ironically, the same people who claim to want equality cling hardest to this illusion.

They want to be soldiers of feminism—but still be treated like porcelain.

Sorry. You don’t get both.

🧠 "WE’RE EXACTLY THE SAME" — COOL. THEN STRAP IN.

So here’s your equality. No edits.

You want locker room talk? Cool. Let’s talk about how many tampons exploded in your purse this month.

You want to be seen as leaders? Then expect no mercy when your hormonal spiral costs your team a deadline.

You want gender neutrality? Then be ready to be roasted for bathroom stench, period accidents, and unwashed bras just like men get clowned for ball sweat and piss dribble.

You want equal pay?

Cool. Welcome to equal accountability. Equal exposure. Equal humiliation.

Because if we’re the same, then nothing about your biology earns you a shield.

💀 THE MOST EQUALITY-BASED SENTENCE EVER WRITTEN:

Nobody’s sh*t smells like roses.

Not mine. Not yours. Not hers.

Your gender doesn’t grant you immunity from being a flawed, leaking, emotionally unstable, hairy, occasionally gross meatsack with debt and Wi-Fi.

Welcome to the real world.

Where “equality” doesn’t mean “treat me better.” It means treat me as exactly human.

🧠 REBLOG if you’re done worshipping the porcelain myth 👣 FOLLOW if you’ve embraced your disgusting, beautiful, raw humanity 💬 COMMENT if you’ve ever looked into the bathroom trash and lost faith in gender superiority

[cherry-blossom-qf]

Necro, who was the kindest person in your life? And what was the hardest sacrifice you've made— literally or figuratively?

Apple Core, what was your most challenging experience as a Sensei?

Prince, O lord of fashion, which if your fits and/or forms is your absolute favorite?

Magomon, what's your opinion on Tamers in general?

Officer, my good sir, what was the toughest case you've helped or had to solve? Any solo cases?

UT, what are your favorite holiday traditions in the Underground and Surface world?

🩸: "There hasn't been a sacrifice thats been that hard for me to perform. The only thing I truly regret sacrificing is my ability to smell normal ever again. Seriously, I tried bathing multiple times and used every single perfume, cologne, all the scent products... AND I STILL CANT GET RID OF THE ROITING CORPSE SMELL!!

As for who's the kindest person I know? Well... the obvious answer would be Kirby... but there's also this snowman that has been helping me with my research, perhaps I could talk about them some other time."

-

🍏: "Most challenging things as a sensei? Well, to perfectly honest, it's the students that are, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, require a lot of patience from me. For example; I have this one student who is just, again I mean this in the nicest way possible, a stubborn wanna-be-cool-guy.

Don't get me wrong, he does have a lot of potential to be a Skylander and I can see him becoming one in the future... BUT he's just has a really bad habit of wanting to do things all by himself because he's 'so cool' with his high running speeds and cool dragon sword, only to get his ass handed to him one way or the other. I thought Blades' cockiness when he became a Skylander was bad, that student takes the cake!!!"

-

👑: "Favorite outfit? My goodness!! That's like picking between my own children!! But... if I had to pick just one.... like, you holding a knife to my back and forcing me to pick just one, then I'm gonna pick the robes I wore to my wedding. They were so sparkly and beautiful, I truly felt special on my special day~! As for forms, the Prince Form is my favorite. I like the height boost, elegance, and a sense of power in that form, hehehe~"

-

🎩: "My thoughts on Tamers? Well, I have said before that there have been tales and legends of humans being involved with digimon. I've always found it fascinating, as those legends have told of humans granting digimon power they could never get on their own. I kinda wished to see something like that happen one day... Little did I know that I was gonna get a human myself, hehe!!

Susie has been lots of fun to travel with, and the power she grants me and Marxamon has been incredible (tho I wish evolving into Crownedmon wasn't so mentally scaring and painful)!! I could have never asked for a better human partner!! Me and Marxamon are her 'goodiest boys'!! 'Goodiest' is not a grammatically correct word, but I let it slide because she gives me hugs and pets!♡♡♡"

-

🚔: "Funnily enough, my toughest case was actually my first solo case!! The case of Artie Flopshark, a poker guru that was supposed to be dead, as he was killed by Flint Paper. According to some of the records, Artie's bank account was still active, depositing and withdrawing money regularly as if he was alive. And there had been reports of Artie being near abandoned graveyards across the country. Flint Paper couldn't track him down for the life of him, so he assumed it had been some kind of 'witchcraft' that made this guy untraceable. So Flint gave the case to me since I'm a mage and stuff (witchcraft and my magic are obviously two different things, but I let it slide). Sam and Max had a lot of faith that I could handle this on my own, so I took on the challenge just to make them proud. The weeks of trying to find this guy felt like the longest weeks of my life! But I was able to find him.

Long Story Short; It turned out Artie Flopshark was revived as a zombie like monster by a bunch of teenage wizards that were messing around with dark arts (kinda sounds familiar). When the wizards successfully revived him, they freaked out and left him behind. Artie was able to get a hold on that dark arts book that they coincidently dropped and used it to get around the county's graveyards. He was hosting nightly poker nights to get his funds back for his new undead life, inviting all sorts of creeps and ghouls to play games of Texas Hold'em. In fear of being killed again by Flint, Artie used magic to keep himself untrackable from any living being on earth. Which I was able to work around the effects because I'm not from earth, hehe~!!

I felt kinda bad for him since even mentioning Flint Paper made him scream in panic, so did Artie a favor and helped him get a restraining order on Flint. I got my paycheck and a celebration surprise from Sam and Max that they planned for me for completing my first solo case, a VIP trip to The Inventory for drinks, dinner, and poker."

-

💙: "Well damn, ol' gunner boy spoke in whole paragraphs! Ok, favorite holiday.... I gotta give it to Halloween, dude. Monsters seem to enjoy Halloween a lot, and I can see why, as my best memories here are sometimes related to Halloween. Like on our first trick-or-treating, Frisk dressed up as a witch and made me their little 'black cat' by dressing me in a black cat onesie. I was carried around in their backpack as we went around the neighborhood. And when I got my monster form perfected, me and Frisk did even cooler matching costumes! Mario and Luigi, Dipper and Mabel, Steven and Amethyst, Freddy and Bonnie, heck we even Sans and Papyrus a few times! (which the bros really liked)

Even though I moved out of Toriel's house after I got married, Frisk and I still go trick-or-treating together every Halloween with our matching costumes. And Frisk hasn't grown out of trick-or-treating just yet, so we'll be continuing this little tradition of ours for a few more years! And I'll be enjoying every moment."

-

🦋: "Man I sure do love being involved!" -he said to no one.

(Congratulations Blaze, you changed my QnA formatting just for this ask! Eff you and have a nice day!)

[megistusdiary]

Hi vampire arle anon here. Seems kind of weird to just refer to myself as that. Like 🎭 anon, I'll also give myself an emoji. 🩸 (i thought it might fit given the vampire shtick)

Anyways. Ty 🎭 anon for filling in the blanks of my last ask, again, all my knowledge comes from the wiki. This is such an amazing idea and I'm glad I can help. And speaking of brainrot :)), here's some ideas:

Succubus arle? Succubus arle? Succubus arle? It's not a want, it's a need. If you know what a succubus is, I don't need to say any more, your imagination can go wild there.

Demon arle? Demon arle? Demon arle? What if you summon a demon in your time of need and the most breathtaking, handsome, jawdropping demon appears, saving you like a godsent angel. Once she's finished slaughtering everyone and is bathed in whoever dares to hurt you, she towers over your trembling form, still covered in blood, and she extends a hand. "The Knave at your service~"

(All the bonus points to this concept if its like the anime, Black Butler. In Black Butler, the main character forms a contrast with a demon in exchange for allowing the demon to eat his soul after the main character has accomplished his goal. The demon just becomes his butler afterwards and god. There is so many things I want to see Arle do in a tailcoat and a tie. Just the thought of Arle calling you 'master,' completely loyal, and doing anything at your bidding. Please 😮‍💨)

Probably out of character for arle, but gentleman thief arle and you're the detective??? And she just flirts with you and leaves you flowers at every scene (and drags you into an alleyway when you're chasing her and fucks you until you can't walk and then leaves with a goodbye kiss when you're literally twitching on concrete??)

I'm not obsessed. What are you talking about. Anyways, I thought since you always feed us so well you deserve some food for thought :DD

-🩸

literally anything she wants, i am hers.

she can feed off my soul, idc. fuck me so good i feel like i've died! eat well, ma'am 😁🙏

i love arle in a suit also. i am also in love with the idea of her having a scythe with blood elements. and her protecting us and literally handling all the danger...yum.

also the idea of her princess carrying her darling, being very chivalrous teehee.

i also need her to take that jacket off and show us that she's absolutely ripped. and then use those muscles to hold her darling up and fuck her in an alleyway! whew.

don't get me started on her claws, too. need them dug into my hips stat

also, welcome to the club, 🩸 anon!!! you are so sweet, thank you for the food ♡

[cinnaminsvga]

When I flew to Korea. My biggest fear was starting my cycle right there on the plane🤣 cause it was due and a little late. Shout out to irregular cycles~ kidding kind of. Also mainly because the week before my flight I saw a video where the girl talked about how it suddenly happened mid flight the day she was traveling and it unlocked a new fear for me.

It waited til I entered my apartment in korea like within an hour I just was like oh no. Thank whoever was watching over me and was giving me good luck that day, and it also happened before the dinner I had to go to while I was still in the apartment. And also thankful @ myself that I packed like a 6 month supply for no reason other than just in case💀

Also sorry for the overshare I saw you got it in Japan while crouching to look at something lmao. And it activated that fear of it happening on a plane thought. I hope you got to handle that quickly or had something on you were close by so you didn’t have to tough it out. Also do you like pack let’s say your going somewhere for a week or two but you pack like 3 months of underwear you know incase you shit yourself 3 times a day every day for those two weeks and change your underwear 5 times a day for some unknown reason🤣 not that you would or that it’s ever happened but just incase that’s the one time it does. Or am I insane. It’ll be like 2 jeans 1 shorts and like 7 shirts. And pjs. But 3 months of undies and socks and period stuff)

[cont.] Can’t believe I talked about periods and shitting yourself hypothetically all in the same ask I’m so sorry🤣 My brain just caught up to that ask I just sent💀

period talk under the cut because we're bloody bitches 🌊🩸

whenever my cycle is coming up, i'll usually wear a panty liner at least two days before it's supposed to start... if the anxiety is bad (e.g. before a big flight or any event where i cant change undies) then i might even wear a whole ass pad a few days before it starts lol

lucky you that your period started before leaving your apartment HAKSDJKAS ive had experiences where im at lengthy dinner parties with no extra pads in my bag and just had to Suffer (hence why i wear dark pants most of the time... but have i started to bring pads in my bag? who can say...) but during my Squatting Incident™️, i was not close to my hotel so i was actually forced to Tough It Out for at least five more hours... it was pain, but i also got to buy an animal crossing cup for my troubles so i suppose it wasnt too bad... but the horrors... at least it didnt permanently stain my clothes 💀

i also do tend to pack a lot of pads when i travel around when my cycle starts because i do not trust international feminine products HKASDJKAS nothing against them but when youre at your lowest (i.e. your period), sometimes a little bit of home can help you a long way... I WILL SAY THO that my last period when i was in japan was unexpectedly stronger than usual... hence the whole squatting blood flood that triggered this entire conversation LMAO but yeah i ran out of pads and had to grab some from family mart... also i dont know japanese so i guess i grabbed the night time pads bc man those pads were like DIAPERS... covered my whole ass but it was thin enough that i didnt look like i was shitting my pants or smth lol

as for clothes... yes i do that thing too LMAOOO underwear is just touching WAY TOO MANY potentially disastrous areas that having extras is a necessity... i do admit though that in my past couple of travels, i have been packing more savvy than my usual anxious self... MINUS THE JAPAN TRIP BECAUSE AGAIN FOR SOME REASON I DECIDED TO PACK LIGHT??? so yeah i had to do my laundry once during the trip but that was my first time ever underpacking underwear (wow an assonance) and i had to google comprehensive steps on how to operate japanese washing machines because my social anxiety forbids me from Fumbling in Public because i think i'll be executed

anyway. i know none of you are reading all that. so tldr... ive been menstruating for years and yet somehow i am not an expert. what are the odds!!!

[lemonhemlock]

I was on Twitter and Will Bowers posted that he hoped the Aegon scene was a fakeout. Given that we know now that Dyana will be returning next season it does beg certain questions.

Twitter seems to think she may be out for revenge and team up with Mysaria for 🩸and 🧀, perhaps being in league with Talya the whole time who makes fake moontea. Which idk why that would be righteous thing, team black utterly baffles me at times.

Yet given the honest confusion on Aegon’s face when confronted with the accusation by Alicent do you think such a scenario is possible.

Would be bold of hotd to have a woman make a false rape accusation and I really don’t know how that would go down but part of me really wants it to be the case. I’m sick to death of debating with team black stans that Aegon not only has a claim to the Iron Throne but in fact a stronger one than Rhaenyra, only to be called a rapist defender.

Which is not at all my argument but these comments slowly push me toward just outright claiming Egg2 would be a better king out of spite.

The show runners claimed they wanted to make Aegon gray and yet make TGC a rapist in his first appearance. Nothing gray about that my friend. So if it all turns out to be a lie what do you think the fall out will be ?

Love the blog 💚

Anonymous asked: did you know that Dyana from episode 8 is coming back and will be in 4 more episodes??? apparently actor's own agency confirmed it. I'm speechless...... what role can she possibly have that requires so many episodes? are they trying to bury the greens for good in the eyes of the audience? every leak is a disaster, and worse than the previous one

hi, guys, i already talked about this topic in the dyanna tag and i have an entire other tag where i make my stance on leaks speculation. likewise, i spoke many times about how i don't like and don't agree with this writing choice of straight-up turning aegon into westerosi satan from the get-go. but what's done is done, there's no point in denying what was shown on screen. he's written as a rapist and the scenes are made to be interpreted as rape, not as some smear campaign that'll later turn into a gotcha moment. IF we ever get out hands on the scripts, it would be very interesting to compare what the original plan looked like and what they changed on the fly / if they changed anything at all / if aegon was always meant to be this awful from the very beginning etc

as much as i would like them to retcon that in some way, idek if it's worth it at this point, bc portraying women lying on screen about rape is much more damaging than losing fictional civil wars involving flying lizards. we need more nuanced media surrounding sexual assault and women's issues and perhaps hotd is not the appropriate medium for this as the writers seem incapable in many ways of handling a delicate subject like that. yes, i think it was a mistake that compromises the quality of the narrative and, no, i don't think hotd is necessarily going to offer us groundbreaking feminist commentary, but dyanna the fake rape victim is really bottom of the barrel stuff - like, even they could & should do much better than that.

also, to be honest, i don't think the writers are particularly interested in making aegon a complex character, unfortunately. maybe they'll compensate with this characterization in some other ways, though; i am not excluding the possibility of redress. we'll live and see.

[nicawlette]

🎼✨🖤⚡

SONG ASSOCIATIONS » ACCEPTING

🎼 A song that reminds me of my muse’s vibes

attention — newjeans ( this remix especially )

ever since i heard this remix i've been looking for any excuse to say that it makes me think of nicolette in every conceivable way. it's very cunt and very her.

미묘 — yezi

the vibes are don't care, didn't ask + i'm better than you. i love the arrogance and superiority of it all, and the fact that it has such an upbeat but also sexy vibe to it. ❛ even if i mumble you can hear me so clearly, i'm the best at making you mad ❜ it's very nicolette, even the singer's mannerisms and style.

✨ A theme song for my muse

GOOD ENEMY — PVRIS

i think this song really encapsulates nicolette's self-destructive nature and self-loathing. it's both in a metaphorical sense, like a statement on how she views herself, but also the literal sense of her blood powers, which require physical harm to be used. ❛ i hold the knife by the blade, 'cause I know how to take the pain ❜ like the mistreatment she endured as a child, this is another kind of pain she's grown accustomed to, enough to not even give it a second thought, even if it hurts. ❛ I don't want peace, I would rather bleed, all the misery loves company, and I can't break free ❜ things like dying alone and being filled with regret but without a cure are stated very bluntly in the song too, as if indisputable and accepted fact. but there's also a kind of pride in it, almost like bragging. ❛ i love a good enemy, and baby, it's me ❜ embracing the chaos even while it brings you suffering.

🖤 A song for our muses’ ship

INVU — taeyeon

ummmmm this song makes me scream cry and throw up over wangyico. i have listened to it so many times doing replies it's sickening. the themes about loving someone you're not supposed to or who you know will eventually leave. ❛ falling in love, to you i'm just an option. you and i were different from the beginning ❜. but even if you know something is only gonna end badly, you can't help how you feel. ❛ even if i push you away, i can't beat you. even i abandon myself and lose myself more ❜ ❛ it hurts but i can't stop it, so when you leave, please make it easy ❜ hey. what if i died?

ISLAND — youha

ON A HAPPIER NOTE i love this song for them too. the lyrics are so tender and romantic, about being someone's safe place. being the person they can be their truest self with. ❛ take me to a place where there's only you and only me, sometimes. I'm not afraid, everything is a paradise that began between you and me ❜ if that sentiment isn't the very foundation of nicolette and wang yi's bond then i don't know what is!!! they are the 1 person the other can be fully real and open in front of without any fear of shame or rejection!!! they are each other's island!!!

⚡ A song that my muse would listen to

HEAT — tove lo , BRAND NEW BITCH — COBRAH

nicolette especially like loud, cunty music that she can dance to in a club

[pixel7777]

The Downside of Daring Rescues Chapter 7: Under Pressure

🎭 A planned heist, unplanned confessions, and Astarion’s usual mix of charm, scorn, and existential dread. Who knew breaking into the Restricted Section could break down walls of a different sort? 🩸🔓

Read here below the break or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please reblog or reply here, or comment and leave kudos on AO3! Your thoughts keep me going.

Astarion lounged against the window frame, careful to stay in the shadows while watching the others sprawl across Darla's furniture. The familiarity of their daily sunset meetings had bred a certain... not comfort exactly, but perhaps a temporary cease-fire. Even Syl's usual glares had softened to mere suspicious glances.

"Master Adelie's perfect," Zee said, gesturing with half a meat pie. "She's got the right specialties, no tendencies to dissect anything that's still talking, and—" He grinned. "—just enough ambition to bend the rules."

Dalyria leaned forward, her fingers twisting in her lap. "Her work on magical afflictions is quite impressive. I've reviewed several of her papers, and her methodology is sound."

"There's just one small catch," Zee continued, brushing crumbs from his beard.

"Isn't there always?" Astarion drawled.

"She needs a book from the Restricted Section. Says it's essential for understanding the transformation process."

Syl's eyebrow arched. "And she can't get it herself because...?"

"Because her clearance isn't high enough." Zee's grin widened. "Which is exactly why it's perfect."

Astarion straightened, interest piqued. "Oh?"

"Once she's got stolen goods in hand, she can't exactly run to the Keepers about harboring vampires, can she?"

"Insurance." Thal nodded approvingly. "Smart."

"And the book's actually relevant?" Darla asked, sprawled across her bed.

"According to Dalyria's assessment, yes," Zee said. "It's not just busy work to test our commitment. We give her the book, she swears to Dalyria's terms, and we reveal who her new collaborators are."

Astarion watched the others from his shadowed perch, his fingers drumming against the window frame. Darla's face had lit up with that familiar sparkle of mischief he'd come to know. "A heist! Heists make excellent songs!"

"You won't be able to sing it for a good long time," Zee reminded.

"Yeah, sure, but the raw material! …for later, of course." Darla said.

"We'll need to case the restricted section first," Thal said, ever practical. "Candlekeep's security is legendary."

"That's what makes it fun!" Darla stretched like a cat, but Thal's stern look dampened her enthusiasm slightly.

Zee shrugged his broad shoulders. "Not much use for Thal and me on this one. Can't exactly bash our way through. This needs a lighter touch."

"I can handle the magical wards," Syl said, trying and failing to hide her excitement. Her usual skepticism had melted away as she pulled out a piece of parchment. "We'll need to track guard rotations, identify trigger points, maybe create a distraction—"

Astarion's throat tightened. This heist went far beyond what the party had agreed to do for him and Dalyria. They were supposed to ask questions and keep their secret—that was it. Now? Stealing from Candlekeep? The casual way they discussed risking everything—their standing at Candlekeep, their freedom, their lives—hit him like a physical blow. They were doing this for him and Dalyria. Without demands or conditions. Without him having to seduce or manipulate or bargain. Or even ask!

He searched their faces for signs of deception, for the catch he'd learned always came with kindness. But there was only Syl's poorly concealed enthusiasm for the puzzle, Thal's strategic focus, Zee's easy acceptance, and Darla's bright-eyed determination.

His chest ached with an unfamiliar warmth that felt dangerous, like standing too close to sunlight. He wanted to warn them off, to protect himself from the inevitable disappointment when they changed their minds. But the words stuck in his throat.

Instead, he found himself saying, "I can handle the locks, and traps that aren't triggered magically."

Five sets of eyes fixed on Astarion with varying degrees of surprise. He shifted against the window frame, suddenly aware of the weight of their stares. "What?"

"It's just..." Zee gestured vaguely with what remained of his pie. "We'd gotten used to you two being more..."

"Decorative?" Astarion supplied dryly.

"Benched," Thal said bluntly.

The word stung more than it should have. Astarion had spent the past days carefully cultivating an air of detached amusement, content to lurk in corners and observe their planning sessions. It had felt safer that way. Practical. Now he wondered if he'd managed to make himself irrelevant instead.

"Actually..." Darla sat up, that dangerous sparkle brightening her eyes. "This is perfect. You've got that whole..." She wiggled her fingers at him. "Sneaky vibe."

"Sneaky vibe?" Astarion repeated, caught between offense and amusement. "My dear, I'll have you know I was breaking into noble estates while you were still learning your alphabet."

"Exactly!" Darla bounced on the bed and surprised a genuine laugh out of Astarion.

Dalyria's lips curved into an elegant smile. "I may have a few skills related to creating distractions."

"See?" Darla looked around the room triumphantly. "We've been ignoring our best assets."

Astarion couldn't quite suppress a pleased smirk. He'd forgotten how good it felt to be useful—to be valued for something beyond blood or beauty or entertainment. Even if their faith in him was terribly misplaced. Even if this was all going to end badly.

But then, what was the worst that could happen? Death? Imprisonment? Torture? He'd survived all of that. And this time he'd have... companions. The thought was equally thrilling and terrifying.

"Well then," he drawled, covering his uncertainty with a flourish. "Shall we start planning?"

Astarion watched the others huddle around a rough sketch of the library's layout, their voices rising and falling as they debated entry points and timing. His fingers traced the familiar weight of his lockpicks, drawn from their hidden pouch of his doublet—not the crude implements he'd used in his early years, but elegant tools worthy of a master thief. He'd "borrowed" them from Lord Silvershield's collection during their book heist. The irony of stealing tools to steal more efficiently hadn't escaped him.

"The three of us on infiltration then?" Darla's voice cut through his musings. "Me, you, and Syl?"

"Indeed." He tucked the picks away. "Though I still think you'll slow us down with all that jingling jewelry."

"My jewelry doesn't jingle," Darla protested, but her hands went reflexively to her earrings.

"It will if you keep bouncing around like an excited puppy."

Syl snorted, not bothering to hide her amusement. "He's got you there."

The planning stretched well into the night. Thal's questions grew increasingly specific, probing every possible weakness in their scheme. But even the dour drow eventually nodded, satisfaction clear in their expression.

Dalyria practically glowed with barely contained excitement. Her usually precise gestures had grown animated as she detailed the research possibilities, the experiments they could conduct, and the theories they could test. Her enthusiasm was... catching, in its way.

Astarion felt a peculiar warmth watching Dal. She had a purpose again, a direction.

Unlike him.

He pushed the thought away. Best not to dwell on such things. He had a heist to focus on, locks to study, guard patterns to memorize. The rest... well. The rest could wait.

***

From the journal of Darla Daring:

Something's off with Astarion's whole seduction routine. I spotted it during our feeding session last week, but I still can't pin down what game he's actually playing. Every move is calculated—like chess, but with more hip swaying and bedroom eyes.

I've kept things breezy. Toss a wink here, a quip there. Let him think his act still works. (Does he know I know? Hard to tell with those perfect poker faces vampires have.)

It'll be irrelevant soon anyway. Once we steal that book and get Adelie's help, they'll both be off chasing their cure. Good riddance to confusing vampires and their mysterious agendas.

Won't miss him at all.

(Shit.)

Scrawled in margins, with multiple cross-outs:

Sneaking through shadows deep

Past wards and locks we creep

The prize within our reach

If we don't get caught and—

No, too obvious. Maybe:

Silent as falling snow

Quick as shadows go

Through forbidden doors we slip

While scholars peaceful sleep...

Below the lyrics, a rough sketch shows a figure with curly hair crouched at a doorway, lockpicks in hand. Multiple attempts at getting the hair right have been erased and redrawn. A note beside it reads: "Need to capture that annoying smirk he does when he's showing off."

P.S. Note to future self: When this is all over, remember that vampires are TROUBLE. Even the pretty ones. ESPECIALLY the pretty ones.

P.P.S. Stop drawing him.

***

Astarion traced his finger along the parchment spread across Darla's desk, memorizing each turn of the restricted section's corridors. The candle's flame cast dancing shadows across the aged map, its wax pooling at the base like spilled blood.

"And then we take a left at the—" Syl's words dissolved into a yawn.

"The Prophecies of Alaundo section," Astarion finished, not bothering to look up from the map. "Really, darling, if you can't keep your eyes open..."

Syl pushed back from the desk, her chair scraping against the wooden floor. "Some of us actually need sleep." She cast a pointed look between him and Darla. "Unlike certain persons who sleep all day."

"I'm fine," Darla said, though her usual bright tone had softened to match the late hour. "Just a few more rounds."

"Suit yourself." Syl paused at the door. "Don't let him keep you up all night with his 'just one more time' routine."

Astarion's lips curled into a smile. "I would never."

The door clicked shut behind Syl, leaving them alone with the map and guttering candle. Astarion shifted in his chair, hyper-aware of the sudden intimacy of the space. He'd spent countless hours in close quarters with Darla over the past days, yet something about the late hour made this feel different. More dangerous.

He tapped the section they'd been reviewing. "From the beginning then?"

"Actually..." Darla stretched, her spine popping. "Maybe we should focus on the guard rotations again. I'm still not clear on the timing between the third and fourth posts."

"As you wish." Astarion pulled the schedule closer, steadfastly ignoring how the candlelight caught in her hair. This was about the heist. Nothing more. "Though I must say, your dedication to preparation is admirable. Most would have given up hours ago."

"Most haven't seen what happens when jobs go wrong." She leaned forward, her shoulder brushing his as she pointed to the timeline. "Now, talk me through this part again."

Astarion watched Darla's finger trace along the guard routes, her movements precise despite her obvious fatigue. The candlelight caught the faint marks on her wrist where he'd fed earlier that week—marks that were already fading, unlike the puzzle she presented.

She'd maintained their usual repartee, matching his quips with practiced ease, but something had shifted. The spark of genuine interest he'd first detected in their encounters had dimmed, replaced by a carefully concealed distance that bothered him more than it should.

"The timing's tight here," she said, tapping a junction on the map. "We'll need to coordinate perfectly."

He hummed in agreement, studying her profile instead of the parchment. When had it changed? Their verbal sparring had grown automatic, like the steps of a dance where both partners went through the motions without feeling the music.

"Astarion?"

"Mm? Ah, yes. The timing." He leaned closer, ignoring how she subtly shifted away. "We'll have approximately three minutes between guard rotations."

The realization needled at him. He'd lost whatever advantage he'd initially held over her, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly when or how. It wasn't that she distrusted him—she'd proven willing to share her blood, her space, her companions' aid. Hells, she was about to risk her life on a mission with him. But the delicious tension of their early interactions had evaporated, leaving behind something entirely too... fake.

Not that it mattered. The party had demonstrated their commitment to helping him and Dalyria. He had no tactical need to seduce anyone. Still, the mystery of his misstep nagged at him like an itch he couldn't scratch.

"Perfect," Darla said, stifling another yawn. "I think we've got it down."

He offered his most charming smile, more out of habit than strategy. "Shall we run through it one more time? Just to be certain?"

"Tomorrow." She rolled up the map with efficient movements. "Some of us need beauty sleep."

"Impossible. You're already—"

"Goodnight, Astarion."

The gentle firmness in her tone confirmed it. Whatever game they'd been playing, she'd simply stopped participating. He'd lost his touch—or perhaps she'd seen through it entirely.

Astarion watched Darla slid the map into its case, his practiced smile fading. The charade had grown exhausting, hadn't it? Like wearing clothes that no longer fit, pinching in all the wrong places.

"Actually." He caught her wrist as she started to rise to open the door for him, careful to avoid the healing puncture marks. "A moment, if you would."

She paused, eyebrows raised. The candlelight caught the shadows under her eyes—mortal exhaustion he'd been deliberately ignoring in his relentless push to perfect their plans.

"I know that you know." The words felt strange on his tongue, unvarnished truth after so many layers of manipulation. "What I've been doing. The whole seduction routine."

"Ah." She settled back into her chair, neither confirming nor denying.

"It's... what I know. What kept me alive." He released her wrist, forcing his hands to stay still in his lap rather than fidget with his rings. "But you didn't deserve that. Not after everything you've done."

"Everything I've done?" A hint of genuine curiosity colored her tone.

"Yes, well." He gestured vaguely at the room, the maps, the whole ridiculous situation. "This mad quest to help two vampire spawn you barely know. For what? Glory? A good song?" He shook his head. "No, you're actually trying to help. It's absolutely baffling."

A smile tugged at her lips. "Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should probably take it as a warning. This sort of... unreasonable kindness tends to get people killed."

"Is that concern I detect?"

"Merely an observation." He stood, needing to move, to put space between them.

Darla's answering laugh held no bitterness, just genuine amusement. "It stung a bit at first, I'll admit, figuring out exactly how little you wanted me. But my ego can take the hit. It has extra padding."

He studied her face, searching for signs of deception, but found only open curiosity and good humor. It was unnerving. "And yet you kept playing along."

"I wanted to understand why." She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "So tell me—why maintain the charade when we were already helping you?"

Astarion paced to the window, watching shadows dance across the courtyard below. The truth stuck in his throat like a half-swallowed meal. "Insurance," he finally managed. "Leverage."

"Against what?"

"Against—" He gestured sharply at nothing. "Against the moment you decided this wasn't worth your time. When the novelty of helping the poor, broken vampire wore off."

"We already said there were no debts. No obligations."

"Yes, and that was terrifying." The words escaped before he could stop them. He turned back to face her, forcing a smile that felt brittle. "Do you know how many people I've met in my considerably long life who actually meant that? Who would help without wanting something in return?"

"How many?"

"None." He laughed, sharp and humorless. "Not one. So forgive me if I found it difficult to trust in your boundless altruism."

"It's not altruism. It's just... the right thing to do."

"Even more terrifying." He slumped against the windowsill. "At least altruism comes with the warm glow of self-satisfaction. But this? Just doing the right thing because it's right? I didn't know how to trust that."

Darla shook her head. "You're giving me too much credit. And others not enough."

"Am I?" Astarion's laugh held no humor. The words spilled out before he could stop them, driven by decades of bitter observation. "I spent a hundred and twenty years as Cazador's slave, right there in the Upper City. Do you know how many people came looking? How many 'heroes' stormed the gates?"

The candle flickered, throwing shadows across his face. He felt exposed, like the light had stripped away every defense he’d built.

She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off, pacing like a caged animal.

"None. Not one person questioned why people kept disappearing into that mansion. Not one guard investigated the screams." His hands clenched into fists. "And the Patriars who came to Cazador's little parties? Who used us for their entertainment?"

The memories crashed over him—silk cushions and cruel smiles, the taste of expensive wine mixed with blood and shame. "They knew. They had to know what we were, what he was doing to us. And they did nothing."

His voice cracked on the last word. Astarion froze, horror washing through him as he realized how much he'd revealed. How raw and exposed he'd left himself.

"I should go." He turned toward the door, desperate to escape before she could respond, before he had to see her eyes fill with pity.

"Wait." Darla's voice stopped him at the door. "Please."

Astarion's hand froze on the handle, every instinct screaming to flee. But something in her tone made him hesitate.

"I'm sorry about the song."

He turned, baffled by this apparent non sequitur. "What?"

"Not just for how I wrote about you." Darla's fingers twisted in her lap. "But for... sanitizing what happened in that place. What Cazador did. You're right—people don't want to see horrible things because then they might feel responsible to act. And I'm as guilty as anyone who walked past that mansion and ignored what was happening inside."

The raw honesty in her voice pierced through his defenses. Astarion leaned back against the door, needing its solid support.

"I shouldn't have perpetuated that by leaving out the most important parts." She met his eyes. "I'm fixing that, in the rewrite. Though I'll keep you out of it entirely, if you prefer. For privacy."

"Privacy?" The word felt foreign on his tongue. In all his years of existence, no one had ever offered him such consideration. His life had been Cazador's property, to be displayed or hidden at his master's whim.

"Think about it." Darla's smile held no trace of her usual dramatic flair. "Let me know what you'd prefer."

Astarion studied her face, searching for some hidden agenda, some trick or trap beneath the simple offer. But he found only tired honesty in her expression.

"I... accept your apology." The words came out awkward, unpracticed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd accepted an apology rather than offered one in desperate submission. Thal, he supposed. These people were… he just didn't know what they were.

Astarion shifted his weight, uncomfortably aware of the silence stretching between them. Darla's simple honesty demanded... something in return. The words caught in his throat like thorns.

"I suppose I should..." He twisted one of his rings, searching for the right phrasing. "That is, about the manipulation—"

"You don't have to—"

"I do." The force in his voice surprised even him. "I... apologize. For treating you like another mark to be played. For not believing you could simply want to help."

The words felt foreign on his tongue, stripped of their usual artifice.

"Friends, then?" Darla's smile held none of her usual dramatic flair—just tired sincerity.

Friends. What did that even mean? He'd had "friends" among the other spawn, but that had been different. Built on shared survival and mutual understanding of their chains. This was... He didn't know what this was.

"I should go." He pushed away from the door, needing to escape before the walls closed in further. "Early start tomorrow, preparations to finish, all that."

"Of course." Was that amusement in her voice? "Wouldn't want to keep you from your beauty rest."

"As if I need it." The quip came automatically as he yanked open the door, desperate for the safety of familiar banter.

He fled into the darkness of the hallway, her quiet "Goodnight, friend" following him like a ghost.

[luxlitemidnight]

fuck it we never get asks so I'm just answering them all

🦴 - Is anyone in your system dating? If so, who is the strangest pair?

Mmm not really. Etsai and Rune have a bit of a thing but it's definitely not dating

💀 - Is there a particular source you have a lot of fictives from?

Our own OCs! We are OCtive heavy

🪦 - Who has the strangest habits?

I don't think anyone has particularly strange habits.

⚰️ - Do you have any nonverbal headmates?

Nope. We all struggle with talking to some extent though because of masking

🕷 - Who is the worst at masking?

Midnight, probably. She has a very distinct way of speaking that's different from the host (me). She can mask but she would have the hardest time with it

🕸 - How did your headmates get their names?

Either they were predetermined by their source, picked out by them when they formed, or had my assistance in choosing one. Same process for changing names.

☠️ - Do you have any headmates with colored hair,piercings, or tattoos?

I mean. Me, but that's because I identify strongly with the body which has lots of piercings. Etsai has piercings the body doesn't have, and Mal has more ear piercings than we have.

🔪 - How consistent are you with logging switches?

We don't. Logging switches turned out to be more trouble than it was worth, so we stopped doing it.

🧿 - Is there anyone who spends most of their time in front complaining?

Not really. It takes effort to get to front, why are you gonna get here to just complain about it

🎃 - Is there anything specific you do to help introjects feel more comfortable?

I mean I guess we buy specific clothes or fulfill specific requests if they ask for them. They usually don't feel that uncomfortable in the body.

👻 - How did you discover your plurality/systemhood?

Noticing my characters had unique emotional reactions to things outside of my own emotions

🩸 - Is there anyone who absolutely hates their source?

Hates? No. Feels tons of distain and regret about their source actions? That's Rune.

🦇 - Are there any songs that you associate with systemhood/plurality or your system as a whole?

Oh boy do I! Here's a couple

and then our system song:

🐈‍⬛- Is there anyone who identifies as otherkin/therian?

Like everyone lol

🔮 - How does your system determine who handles certain tasks/responsibilities?

By whoever is fronting at the time. Usually it's the host's job because I'm usually in front.

🧟‍♂️ - Who is the most outwardly intimating? Are they viewed the same way within the system?

Midnight, definitely. Somewhat? She's scary but she won't ever hurt you.

🕯- Do your system's littles use "Baby Talk"?

They use full sentences, but they speak in a childlike register.

⛓️ - Funniest quote out of context

Pussy so good you convert to Catholicism (it didn't make any sense in context either)

⬛ - Is there anyone who has a unique/ non-traditional role?

Arthur is an advisor, he often advises me in front.

🪳 - How do you visualize your headmates? (Drawing them,picrew,etc)

our partner system often draws them! They're quite a good digital artist

System Ask Game #3

🦴 - Is anyone in your system dating? If so, who is the strangest pair?

💀 - Is there a particular source you have a lot of fictives from?

🪦 - Who has the strangest habits?

⚰️ - Do you have any nonverbal headmates?

🕷 - Who is the worst at masking?

🕸 - How did your headmates get their names?

☠️ - Do you have any headmates with colored hair,piercings, or tattoos?

🔪 - How consistent are you with logging switches?

🧿 - Is there anyone who spends most of their time in front complaining?

🎃 - Is there anything specific you do to help introjects feel more comfortable?

👻 - How did you discover your plurality/systemhood?

🩸 - Is there anyone who absolutely hates their source?

🦇 - Are there any songs that you associate with systemhood/plurality or your system as a whole?

🐈‍⬛- Is there anyone who identifies as otherkin/therian?

🔮 - How does your system determine who handles certain tasks/responsibilities?

🧟‍♂️ - Who is the most outwardly intimating? Are they viewed the same way within the system?

🕯- Do your system's littles use "Baby Talk"?

⛓️ - Funniest quote out of context

⬛ - Is there anyone who has a unique/ non-traditional role?

🪳 - How do you visualize your headmates? (Drawing them,picrew,etc)

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮

🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Hell yeah!

57 for 🩸:

---

Eddie doesn’t think much of it when Buck says he’s made dinner plans with Maddie. 

“I think I’ll probably be over there for a while, so maybe don’t wait up for me,” he explains. 

“Okay,” Eddie replies easily. “I’m glad you two are hanging out again.”

Eddie knows their relationship has been fractured. A second set of siblings fractured on his account. He wants Buck and Maddie to mend things as much as he wants Sophia and Adriana to. Though, he doesn’t think the former situation was ever nearly as bad as the latter. 

“Yeah,” Buck smiles, expression a bit muted. “Me too.”

Buck waits until everyone is home before he leaves. It’s weird. Sophia is making Eddie and Chris sit down to watch a telenovela episode with her, but before they can, Buck gives them all a weirdly formal goodbye for just going to his sister’s for dinner. He gives them all a hug. Ruffles Christopher’s hair. Leaves Eddie with a bit of a lingering kiss. 

“You going off to war?” Eddie teases him before he goes. 

“If Chim cooks,” Buck replies lightheartedly. 

He doesn’t actually leave until they’re all planted in front of the TV, engrossed in the episode. 

An hour passes before any of them considers moving again.

“If Buck is gone, who’s cooking?” Chris asks after his stomach grumbles.

“I can cook!” Sophia protests. 

“Do you want to cook?” Eddie asks. 

“Well, no,” she admits. 

“Pizza?” Eddie suggests. 

“Sure,” Sophia agrees. “If you order, I’ll go pick it up. Save on the delivery charge?”

“Sounds good,” Eddie says. 

“Great,” she replies, getting up off the couch and walking towards the front hall. 

Eddie grabs his phone to start ordering. He’s still using Buck’s card. He’s going to have to get all his stuff unfrozen. Prove himself not dead. That will be complicated. Probably a huge pain in the ass. But a necessary one.

“Hey, Eddie?” Sophia calls from across the room.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe order it for delivery,” she says. “I can’t find the keys right now and I’m too hungry to go on a wild goose chase.”

Eddie chuckles. “Okay. Delivery it is.”

“Wild goose chase is a silly expression,” Chris says. “Do you ever chase pet geese?” 

“I guess I don’t,” Sophia concedes. She walks back to the couch and flops down beside Chris. “I have chased chickens before, though.”

“Chickens?” Chris wrinkles his nose. 

“Yep! Spent a weird week at a friend’s aunt’s farm when I was in university.”

---

48 for 🦮:

---

“If you don’t send me the total for half, I’ll just send what I think it is, and then some.”

“You’re impossible.” Buck groans. 

“Text me the bill?” 

“Fine.”

Eddie nods, triumphant. “Thank you. Is Chris okay?” 

“I don’t know,” Buck sighs. “I hope so? I feel like I didn’t handle it well. I was so freaked out about Cranberry, but he was upset, and I didn’t want him to be upset, but I was upset. We talked, and I hope he knows it’s all water under the bridge.” 

“Hmm,” Eddie muses. 

“What?”

“It just sounds like you handled it like a parent.” 

Buck stills. 

“Honestly, Buck. I’d have probably reacted the same way.”

“Thank you,” Buck whispers. “That’s reassuring.”

“I think your instincts there are better than you think,” Eddie says. 

“Well, it’s… I mean, I can’t really know. I’m not actually a parent.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Buck, it took me years of being his literal parent to have any instincts at all. I still don’t know if I’m doing it right half the time.” 

“You are, Eddie. He’s incredible.”

“He almost committed Golden Retriever manslaughter.” 

“Eddie!”

“I’m joking. I know he’s a great kid. I’m proud of him every single day. You know this.”

“I know.”

“What I’m trying to say is, I guess… I still don’t always trust my instincts every day. And maybe you won’t trust yours ever fully, either. But I trust your instincts, fully. More than anyone.”

Buck takes a sharp inhale. 

“Eddie…”

“I mean it, Buck. It’s why I…”

“Why you what?” Buck asks. 

---

33 for 🧟‍♂️:

---

Chris has an independent spirit like that. It was one area where Eddie and his parents always disagreed when it came to raising him; Eddie wanted to feed that spirit, they wanted to coddle it. Anyway, they weren’t there anymore. Obviously. So Eddie sat on a bench and watched him swing. 

He didn’t mean to fall asleep. 

Really, he never would have sat down if he thought he would. He’d been driving for hours. Sneaking only sparing portions of food. Entertaining his kid. He was dead tired. He was always dead tired. He just didn’t know he was so tired it almost led to their deaths. 

What must have been several minutes after sitting down, Eddie woke to Chris shrieking at a zombie that came ambling towards them. If one of its legs hadn’t been shattered already, it might have gotten to them, too. Before Eddie could get his act together enough to shoot it. He threw up in a bush after he blew off its head. Not because he was bothered by the violence. Because of how close he’d come to losing everything. 

The time before that - the second time -  was a nearly avoided car accident. Not really Eddie’s fault. They were driving overnight and a group of three zombies sprinted out onto the road. Swerving to avoid them had been a very close call. One that left Christopher sobbing. Eddie feels the least guilty about that instance, even though it had scared him badly. He’s testy now, driving at night through municipal areas. 

The first time Christopher almost died during the zombie apocalypse was the worst. The one that Eddie still can’t believe didn’t permanently fuck him up. Eddie thinks it fucked him up pretty majorly. It was worse than anything he saw overseas. But maybe that was just because it was personal. 

El Paso had fared better than a lot of cities after the outbreak. At least at first.

---

33 for 🚨:

---

“Oh,” Buck says. “Uh, thank you, Bobby.”

“How’s therapy going?” Bobby asks.

“Good,” Buck nods. “Not as fast as I’d hoped.”

“Fast?” Bobby asks.

“I guess once Eddie convinced me to go, and I decided to believe it might work, I thought it would be like, a switch flipping?” Buck explains. “Like one day I’d have a big breakthrough, cry a lot, then be free.”

“Oh,” Bobby nods. “Right. No. That won’t happen.”

“Thanks,” Buck frowns.

“I mean, it might?” Bobby back pedals. “The crying and the breakthrough parts. Not the instantly free part, though.”

“Does that ever come?” Buck asks.

“I’ll let you know if I find out.”

Buck nods. “Fair enough.”

“You just keep doing the work, anyway.” Bobby advises. “That’s all you can do.”

“And it gets easier?” Buck asks.

“It gets easier.” Bobby confirms. “Most of the time.”

[nevermore-grimes]

All I needed was just one person to ask about this for me to go absolutely crazy and talk all about it. So, thank you, @parasafterdark! You made me so happy! I'm going to absolutely overload you with too much information, now. 🤣

TW: Images of blood, sexual themes, and mentions of violence, gore, and the like under the cut

Also, this is pretty fucked up in general, so, like, prepare yourself… 😅

𝕹𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊'𝖘 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖙 🩸

Time for another Macbethian history lesson (You can find the first history lesson here)! In the castle's treasury, there's an old tapestry depicting a fire Elemental turning against and fighting the other three Elementals.

This tapestry was associated with a prophecy, called The Prophecy of Hell's Elemental, which said that one fire Elemental would be created to be the harbringer of evil with an insatiable thirst for blood, and they would be fated to destroy the other Elementals, bringing chaos and disorder to the Elemental lineage, as well as the world around them.

Fast-forward to Nevermore's generation, and as she grew older, the people of Macbeth speculated that she would be Hell's Elemental. It got so bad to the point where her own family (with the exception of Aerith) even began to believe it.

My brain has yet to decide whether or not the prophecy actually has a hand in Nevermore's Bloodlust, but here's what I do know about it so far:

Nevermore's Bloodlust is a temporary state of mind. In short, it makes her very kinky, but I'll get to that in a moment, lmaooo!

When she's Bloodlusted, her eyes glow red, and red veins show through her skin (similar to those of the middle reference photo, but more vivid and intense). Her sword and some of her other Elemental abilities also slightly alter in appearance.

I mentioned in this post that I use the term Bloodlust literally in this context, and I meant it. While Bloodlusted, Nevermore is driven by intense sexual desires relating to spilling, feeling, and tasting blood. It's all very sensual for her. It also has to specifically be from a live person (because they're still warm~).

This also, in turn, makes Nevermore more violent than usual. Some people believe that it actually makes her stronger, but there's no noticeable alteration to her physical skillset. She just kind of goes into a killing frenzy.

At first, Nevermore wasn't able to control it, but now she can incite Bloodlust at will. This didn't change the fact that Nick Fury and the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. began to view her as a threat, though. So, once she returned to work, the agents began to either run away from or mock her. Though this wasn't the thing that ultimately made Fury decide to fire her, it was definitely one of them.

Nevermore also hated (and feared) her Bloodlust when it first manifested, but Aerith and Loki were the most supportive of her during her struggles to get a handle on it. Loki even let Nevermore feed off of him, hehehe! 🤭

One interesting scene I remembered was during a fight between Nevermore and Thanos, she was injured so badly she could barely move, but once she incited Bloodlust, she was so turned on that she was able to pretty much ignore all the pain in her body and keep fighting (It was an arena fight that she ended up winning, btw). So, I didn't even consider that it, in a sense, gave her a second wind.

So... do you regret asking me to elaborate on Nevermore's Bloodlust, yet? 🤣