#'you have to reach out of people instead of being so withdrawn'

[jarognieva]

Never try to be """"supportive"""" as my mother does

[just-some-user-hunny]

Grey ghost as your dragon ...

. Grey ghost was a considerably shy dragon.

Although shy may not be the right word to describe him, more like introverted and prone to avoiding people. He isn't particularly fond of the ruckus that humans make. They're so noisy, and nosy.

. Cattle would disappear in the hours of daylight, often in days of heavy fog and engulfing dark clouds. All common folk know to herd in their livestock on particularly cloudy/foggy days as to dissuade the grey ghost from paying them a visit.

. Befitting his name, he hides in the clouds. shrouded with silver and dark shadow as he soars silently upon the wind like a haunting phantom, the beat of his wings like a windstorm or hurricane.

. He's a very silent flyer. Arguably the quietest dragon out of all of them. He drifts and skulks like a ghost.

. His wildness is that of a bird of prey. Poised and exact, silent and puffed with pride. If he were to bond with you, you'd get to delve more into his guarded personality. He's mostly withdrawn, but he certainly wouldn't mind your company.

. Humans, to him, are both predator and prey. He's seen what they are capable of, seen how the dragon-lords have captured and saddled his kind. At first he would be very hesitant of you, shying away and flying off whenever he was given the chance, but no matter how often he hid from you, he was never too far. You'll swear you can see him on the corner of your eye whenever your sights are set to the sky. You'll hear the beat of his wings as he'd silently cruise in the sky over your head, watching you. Observing you.

. Bonding with this wild dragon would take patience and delicacy, but once you were granted his precious trust? Oh he would be all over you.

. His leathery pale wings are worn from constant flight, so he would love whatever pampering you'd give him. Soothing Salves upon the aching muscles of his wings, cleaning his silvery scales around his face, or simply allowing him to sleep with his head nestled close to you or in your lap, he'd be a happy dragon. Humans have always been off limits to him, so he's exploring this side of humanity. The goodness. The kindness. The pack bonding that they seem to hold for anything and everything. You're his experience.

. He loves flying with you. He'd not even mind the saddle, almost eagerly letting you fasten the dragon-saddle upon him as he impatiently awaits for you to clamber on so he can show you how high he can soar. Be warned however- he's going to test you. See how high or fast you can tolerate his dance in the air, how much courage his little human has, and how worthy they are of riding him.

Be mindful to hold on tight to the reigns, you're going to need it.

. He'll take you over deep oceans, vast forests and treacherous mountains. He'll take you to the stars and the moon, fly you as close to the heavens that you can possibly reach your whilst within in your mortal body. He especially loves flying through billowing storm clouds and rainclouds. The rush of wind under his wings, the fresh cool rain on his scales, and the claps of thunder that makes his heart skip a beat. You may return from your flights a little drenched and shivering, but it'd be so worth it.

. He would probably not tolerate the dragon pits. He hates the confinement, and the thought of being cramped in there with other bulky dragons. All growling and huffing and bellowing fire, stepping on tails and talons. He's a solitary creature. Grey ghost likes the company of himself and you.

. Instead he would find a perch nearby. A cave perhaps, or a nice spot near the shoreline. He likes the bubbling seafoam and the glittering silver fish in the water.

. He loves seeing you every morning. When you leave the castle grounds, there you will find him. perched upon a cliffy hillside, or perhaps near the tide pools- his dark silver scales shimmering with seaspray. Your greetings are often reciprocated with a huff or a bellow of smoke, before he nestles his neck and wing down for you to climb upon his back.

. If you are bonded with him, it is possible you share a common interest. Perhaps you harbour some introverted tendencies, or maybe you are a little shy and anxious. You could also just want to go against the grain and do things at your own pace and style, whatever the case, you will both see a part of yourselves in one another. He gets it- he understands. Loud noises, gossip, prodding words and eyes- they're all too much. He'll take you to the tranquility of the clouds and stars, and he'll be your greatest strength and protection- just like you are his greatest peace and joy.

[missrosiesworld]

Can I request headcanons for Von Lycaon with shy gn s/o please?

Of course 😊 My apologies, I have been busy at work these past couple of weeks. Here it is!

Headcanons for Lycaon with a Shy Significant Other:

Gentle Encouragement: Lycaon would be mindful of his partner's shyness, gently encouraging them to step out of their comfort zone while always being supportive.

During the gathering, Lycaon noticed his partner standing off to the side, their posture slightly tense and their eyes scanning the room with a hint of anxiety. He could see them overwhelmed, so he made his way over with a warm, reassuring smile. Gently taking their hand, he leaned in close, his voice soft and inviting. "Would you like to join me?" he asked, his tone filled with understanding, ensuring they knew there was no pressure. His partner hesitated momentarily, flickering between him and the crowd. Sensing their uncertainty, Lycaon gently squeezed their hand, his thumb lightly stroking the back of their hand. "We can find a quieter spot," he added, his visible eye full of encouragement and warmth. When they nodded, still hesitant, he guided them with care, leading them away from the bustling crowd and toward a more secluded corner where they could feel more at ease. Once they reached the quieter area, Lycaon turned to them, his expression tender. "Is this better?" he asked, his voice still low and comforting. When they nodded, a small, relieved smile crossing their face, Lycaon couldn’t help but smile back. "I’m glad," he said softly, his hand still holding theirs, providing a steady source of comfort and reassurance. "I’m here with you, always."

Protective and Reassuring: Lycaon would naturally take on a protective role, ensuring his partner feels safe and supported in social situations.

As they walked through the crowded marketplace, Lycaon instinctively positioned himself between his partner and the throng of people, his tall frame acting as a subtle barrier. He noticed their shoulders tense and the slight discomfort in their expression. Without a word, he gently placed a steady hand on the small of their back, his touch firm but comforting. "I’m right here," he murmured softly, leaning close enough for them to hear above the noise. His voice was low and reassuring, grounding them amidst the chaos. His partner glanced up at him, visibly more at ease with his presence. Lycaon offered a warm, protective smile, keeping his hand at their back as they continued walking through the crowd. "You don’t have to worry," he added quietly, his tone gentle. "I’ve got you." His protective nature radiated through his calm demeanor, ensuring they felt safe and supported as they navigated the bustling marketplace.

Understanding Silence: He would understand that sometimes his partner might not want to speak, and he would be comfortable sharing quiet moments with them, providing comfort through his presence alone.

One evening, as they sat together, Lycaon noticed his partner was quieter than usual, their expression thoughtful yet withdrawn. Instead of asking, he simply reached over, gently entwining his fingers with theirs. The silence between them was peaceful, filled with mutual understanding. Lycaon’s thumb traced soothing circles on the back of their hand, his touch warm and reassuring. Without a word, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to their temple, lingering just long enough to let them know he was there, his presence a silent source of comfort and love.

Thoughtful Gestures: Lycaon would be attentive to the small things that bring his partner comfort, often surprising them with thoughtful gestures that speak volumes.

As Lycaon knew his partner preferred quieter, more intimate settings, he planned everything perfectly. As his partner arrived, they found a cozy blanket already spread out under the stars, surrounded by the soft flicker of candlelight casting a warm glow. Lycaon smiled softly as they approached, his gaze reflecting the same warmth as the candles. "I thought you might enjoy some peace and quiet," he said, his voice gentle as he gestured for them to sit beside him. Taking their hand, he added with a tender squeeze, "I wanted this to be special, just for us." His partner settled in beside him, a soft smile playing on their lips. "You always know exactly what I need," they whispered, their voice filled with affection. Lycaon leaned in closer, brushing a soft kiss against their forehead. "Because I pay attention to what makes you happy," he murmured, his hand still holding theirs as they both basked in the peaceful moment under the stars.

Patience and Gentle Communication: He would be patient with his partner’s shyness, always taking the time to communicate in a way that makes them feel comfortable and valued.

When his partner hesitated, struggling to find the right words, Lycaon leaned in, his presence calm and reassuring. "Take your time," he whispered softly, his visible eye brimming with patience and warmth. "I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready." He reached out and gently took their hand, his touch comforting. "There’s no rush," he added, his voice a soothing anchor. His gentle approach, full of understanding, made them feel valued and safe, knowing Lycaon would always give them the space they needed to open up at their own pace.

Encouraging Independence: While protective, Lycaon would also encourage his partner to be independent, helping them build confidence in their own abilities.

Lycaon stood close by his partner’s side, noticing their nervousness as they prepared to address the small group. He leaned in just enough for his voice to reach them, his tone calm and reassuring. "You’ve got this," he whispered, his visible eye filled with quiet confidence. His hand brushed lightly against their arm in a subtle, supportive gesture. As his partner stepped forward, Lycaon took a small step back, giving them space while staying close enough to provide comfort. His presence remained steady, silently reminding them that he was there if needed. When they glanced back nervously, he offered a warm nod, his gaze full of encouragement. "I’m right here," he mouthed, a small smile on his lips, ready to catch them if they faltered but proud to let them take the lead.

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 17

Welcome to the beginning of the end, for the next four weeks I will be putting out the last chapters of this story. It's done. And I am sorry to see it go. I really loved writing this story even if it kept changing on me and evolving into what it is today.

In this chapter we have Jason being sneaky, Wayne and a new werewolf in town.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

~

Eddie and Steve were having a quiet walk about town, holding hands and talking softly to each other sweet things.

Or that’s how it looked on the outside.

They were actually on the hunt. Wayne had been teaching Eddie how to hunt like vampire the last two years, and Steve was learning how to hunt as a werewolf and not just as a man in a wolf suit from Nancy.

What were they hunting? The manticore. Steve’s stronger sense of smell would help them track the beast down, while Eddie’s extensive knowledge of its habits and haunts would narrow down where to look.

People often assumed that Eddie was bad at facts and dates but he wasn’t. He was actually pretty good at them, his problem in school was not doing the homework. He would ace every test, he’d just forget to turn in his assignments.

Hell, his first senior year got one of the Hellfire Club members mad at him because he scored in the top ten percent of the nation on a portion of the SAT. She was averaging an A- average in the class they shared together and thought that that meant she should have gotten in the top ten percent of nation instead of him. To say that things soured between them after that was an understatement.

All this to say that Eddie was smart. Smarter than people gave him credit for and not just how he figured out the meaning behind Patrick’s attack. He knew people. Differently then the way Steve knew people, but still he was clever and quick witted.

Eddie stopped in his tracks and jutted his chin across the street. “Isn’t that Jason Carver?”

Steve looked where he was indicating and frowned. “I thought your uncle said he was sick. What’s he doing in town?”

“Uncle Wayne’s been saying that Jason is becoming more and more withdrawn since Patrick was attacked,” Eddie explained. “He thinks he might have recommend Jason be brought to the full extent of the law, which is something Uncle Wayne really isn’t looking forward to.”

“But we’re trying to find Patrick’s attacker!” Steve protested. “I thought he would be happier that we’re trying to get justice for his friend.”

Eddie frowned, the crease between his eyebrows deepened. “I think his hatred of werewolves and vampires goes deeper than his sense of justice for his friend.”

Steve shook his head. That just couldn’t be true. He knew Jason from basketball. You wouldn’t be able to find a boy more loyal to his friends than Jason Carver. But he raised his head and looked Eddie in the eye and knew. Jason had only showed him his good qualities because they were equals.

Eddie had seen the worst of the other boy. The sneering viciousness beneath the veneer of civility that he showed to those he thought lesser than him.

“We need to find the manticore before he breaks his masters bonds,” Steve whispered. “I’m more concerned what an unbound creature like that could do to this town, over someone like Jason.”

Eddie watched Jason for a moment more. The other teen did not seem to be up to anything nefarious, other than lying to Uncle Wayne, so he nodded.

But the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the hairs on his arm stood up on end. There was a predator here. He looked around him.

“Babe?” Steve asked, reaching out to touch his elbow. “What wrong?”

“What do you smell just now?” he asked, searching the shadows.

Steve stilled. He scented the air. The wind was changing, but there!

“It’s a sharp metal tang in the air,” he murmured. “Like the scent of dried blood. It’s acrid.” He wrinkled his nose. “Foul.”

Eddie nodded. “That’s what I scented too, but now it’s gone. Whatever it was, though. It was not the manticore.”

Steve shook off a shiver that slid down his spine. “It was werewolf. But not one in my pack.”

“Banished you think?” Eddie asked as the wind shifted to carry the scent away from them. He could still feel the uneasy feeling down the pads of his feet. Whoever was out there was dangerous.

Steve tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s get out of here. There’s nothing else we can do today. The rogue werewolf would have sent the manticore aground.”

Eddie nodded, the cat sìth was probably hiding the manticore’s scent anyway. “We need to talk to Wayne.”

~

Wayne listened intently to their report, soaking in everything they told him. He sat back and thought through it all.

“I think I know who the Banished you smelled in town is,” he said quietly. He handed Eddie the file he’d gotten from Sam and waited.

“Dr. Alexei Oborin,” Eddie read aloud. “That’s Nancy’s werewolf, right? The one she was sure caused a stir when she was little.”

Steve frowned. “She hasn’t told me anything about that.”

Wayne nodded like he wasn’t surprised. “She was waiting to see what that file contained. But I’m leaving it up to you if you want to share it with her. It’s has some pretty gruesome stuff.”

Steve nodded absently as he read over Eddie’s shoulder, the other man waiting until he was done before turning to the next page. No matter how much longer it took Steve than Eddie.

“The name of his bondmate is blacked out,” he said with that little frown of his that made Eddie want to bite him between the eyebrows for being too cute. “Do we know why?”

Wayne shook his head. “I’ve already pressed my source pretty hard to get the file. He could get fired if he doesn’t return it in a week.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance, but wisely said nothing.

“They were teenagers who were camping out in the woods near the pack compound,” Steve read. He frowned. “That’s strange.”

Eddie and Wayne’s heads snapped his direction.

“Look at the location of the two girls bodies...” he pulled out the photo in file and turned it to face Wayne.

Wayne looked at the picture and then back up at him. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking at, if I’m honest here, Steve.”

“It’s something I learned recently from Nancy,” he replied. “I don’t fight like a wolf in wolf form. I don’t go for the jugular for example because I know as human how easy it is for a human to throw up their arms to protect that area of the body. I knock them over first and press my weight on their chest to make it harder for them to do just that.”

Eddie frowned, but Wayne looked back down at the photo.

“Shit!”

The arms and upper torso were torn to shreds, the way you would expect from a wolf attack, but the bodies themselves were arranged to make it look it was the work of a crazed werewolf. Like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Someone moved the bodies?” Eddie reasoned. “But why would Alexei do that if he thought the kids were hunters? There would be no reason to. It was supposedly self-defense.”

“Unless it wasn’t,” Wayne said, continuing his nephew’s thought. “What if the bondmate came and rearranged the bodies to plead insanity on Alexei’s behalf?”

Steve nodded. “And then when that didn’t work, they claimed that the kids were hunters.”

Wayne rubbed at the stubble on his chin wishing, not for the first time, that he had been changed with a clean shaven face.

“That make sense.”

Eddie closed the file and looked on the front of the folder. “VHS? Video Home System?” He tilted his head to the side.

Wayne snorted, then giggled. Suddenly the stoic vampire was laughing so hard, tears of blood rolled down his cheeks. He took out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears.

“No, no,” he said around his feral grin. “It stands for The Van Helsing Society. But, dear god, I am going to use that on that bastard the next time I saw him.”

“As in Abraham Van Helsing?” Eddie asked, his eyes wide. “From Dracula?” He scooted forward to the edge of his seat.

Wayne nodded, still grinning. “The first name was changed but Van Helsing was a real person. Karl Van Helsing was the first to come up with the first policing body for supernatural beings. After the incident in London, it was pretty clear that people were going to start noticing that supernatural beings existed and he came up with The Van Helsing Society.”

“Pretty arrogant of him to name it after himself,” Steve huffed, rolling his eyes.

Eddie scoffed, throwing himself back against the sofa cushions. “Says the alpha of the Harrington pack.” Then he shook his head and muttered. “It had to be fucking cops.”

Steve just shrugged. “I never said that was also arrogant. I never understood why it wasn’t called the Hawkins Pack or Roane Pack considering being alpha isn’t hereditary.”

Wayne smiled at Steve. He had always liked him since he was a young boy learning that his parents had died. But he was really starting to like the man that boy had become, too. Because it was ridiculous that the pack hadn’t been named after the town or county it resided in.

“They are far more than just cops, Ed,” he warned. “They are a powerful group with abilities all their own. Crossing one of the Society isn’t the same as crossing a mortal or even supernatural cop, like Hopper. They are protected against possession, hypnotism, and even enthrallment.”

“Are they all descendants of the original dude?” Steve asked, pressing even closer to Eddie on the sofa. He didn’t like the sound of these supernatural cops either. Because where were they when he was being abused by the Franklins. He couldn’t even remember the night he first changed. He only remembered when he came to and he and Wayne were burying their bodies. He was just so grateful that the abuse was over that he really didn’t think of why.

But Wayne was shaking his head. “According to the records the last Van Helsing died during the oiliphéist riots of 1922 in Ireland.”

“That’s too bad,” Eddie said, cocking his head to the side. “As anti-vampire as the name has become a symbol of these days, I would still have liked to have met one of his descendants.”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve had the pleasure only once. Greta Van Helsing in 1871. She was a spitfire to say the least.”

Eddie ran his hands over his face. “Please tell me you didn’t fuck her...” he moaned.

“Not on your life,” Wayne huffed. “Even if she was immune to the whole agents and supes producing unhinged offspring, she was a lesbian and won’t have even spared me a glance.”

“Unhinged as in cool super powers, unhinged?” Eddie asked, lowering his hands from his face. “Or mental asylum unhinged?”

“Sadly the latter,” Wayne said mournfully. “The magic that they use to protect themselves from being controlled does nasty things to the natural magics supernatural beings are made of.”

“But Van Helsings were immune?” Steve asked, still pressed to Eddie’s side.

Wayne nodded. “Probably because like most things in nature needing a balance, the Van Helsings were naturally the balance to the supernatural creatures of the world. There are probably other families just like them, but Van Helsings are merely the most notable.”

“Makes sense,” Eddie said, taking Steve’s hand and giving it a squeeze. He could tell this talk of the Van Helsings was making him upset.

“In other news,” he said, “The Hughes, the Hollands, the Martins, and the Camerons are all willing to send in guards for Steve.”

“I wasn’t aware the Camerons were supernatural,” Wayne said rubbing his chin. “What are they?”

“Louie Cameron is a selkie, and Debra Cameron is a siren,” he explained. “Making their daughter Vickie one hell of a strong supe.”

Steve sat there with this confused pout on his face. “Guards? Why would I need guards?”

“I don’t trust the Pack right now,” Wayne replied. “There is more going on in that pack then meets the eye and I can’t be everywhere. Especially with Jason causing trouble in town. Patrick tried to warn me early on that Jason would try something like this, but I wanted to believe that there was good in their somewhere.”

Steve’s expression shuttered to a blank mask. “What do I do?”

“Just start hanging out with me and the others outside of the compound,” Eddie said, squeezing Steve’s hand again and covering it with his other hand.

“Okay,” he breathed. They were right, as much as Nancy wanted him to further integrate into the Pack, he needed to be on the outside to see what was going on and understand it.

And he knew the best way to do it, but it was going to take a lot of convincing. But he was up for the job.

~

Notes:

oilipheists are sea monsters from Ireland.

Cameron is the last name I gave Vickie from season four.

And the SAT (a test to determine how well you've learned your lessons over the course of the year not the college one) thing happened to me. I was doing poorly in English because of the stupid correcting sentences for grammar and punctuation bullshit (there is a very good reason I use betas) but when the results came back I got top ten in the NATION for reading comprehension. My friend in the class who getting A's in that class was so mad it wasn't her that she legit stopped talking to me because she was that sure I cheated.

Tag List: FOURTEEN SLOTS REMAINING

Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts @kultiras @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman

8- @kal-ology

[15-lizards]

Worldbuilding wise do you think the ideal woman and ideal man flickers from kingdom to kingdom? I can’t see the reach and north having the same ideals and I cannot see the Stormlands and vale or westerlands and dorne.

Yeah I mean it’s like every culture, where morals and ideals vary from place to place due to their history and surroundings etc etc. also prepare for a long tangent as I force you to listen to my sociology and psychology training

1. It’s canon that Northerners are rougher and sterner people, due to their way of living and the ever present threat of years long winters. Life is first and foremost about survival, so being frivolous and carefree is more looked down upon. Men and women have roughly the same moral standards placed on them I think. They’re both supposed to be more serious and frugal, though ofc men have expectations of dominance and strength while women are expected to be stern matrons. However the patriarchal ideas of the south are not as strong up north, bc in a place so often barren and hard to survive in, everyone is needed to put in 100% to keep their families alive. Which also leads me to thinking ab more of a collectivist culture in the north

2. Riverlander culture is also very family oriented. They are steeped in traditions of their houses, and old stories that happened centuries ago still resonate with them. Thus an ideal man is a staunchly good man, one who cares for his family and raises his children well. He is practical, he values the advice of his old advisors and he must be a father to his men, especially the ever-suffering peasants. Women are considered the hearth of the home. She is loyal to her husband, father, or brothers, and must give them the sound advice of women (when appropriate, of course). She is gentle voiced and soft, frequently gives out alms to the poor and passes down the traditional tales to her children.

3. Westerland culture is incredibly individualistic. You are fighting for yourself and your house instead of the collective good. So in both genders, ambition is positively regarded, and men and women are often expected to have sharp wits in order to survive cutthroat politics. However the patriarchy is still like. A thing. So women are often confined to the domestic sphere, but powerful ladies are definitely expected to wield their influence within it. Overall just a very harsh vibe to live up to and stern gender divides despite the opulence and decadence of the culture itself.

4. The Reach is very similar to the Westerlands in terms of morals and ideals, but covers them up far better. It still rewards ambition and cunning, but you have to be incredibly graceful throughout. Manners and courtesy are very alive here. Men are told to be valiant, courageous, and outgoing, and are expected to charm their way into what they desire. For women, it’s a standard for them to be lively and sweet, and there’s an unspoken expectation that they be able to navigate the court politics with grace. A far more charismatic version of Westerners, if you will.

5.The culture of The Vale is ruled by stuffy social codes. Tradition, honor, and frivolous rules dictate everything about a persons behavior. The ideal man is gentlemanly and noble, who is even handed and respectful in his behavior. He is friendly, but there is a certain aloofness about him that is not to be breached, as it would be a violation of the social code. The model woman is even more aloof, as too much friendliness tells one of her loose morals. A good woman must be above suspicion, withdrawn and just a little bit cold, but still empathetic and devoted (to the gods, her family, and subjects).

6. Dorne is fairly equitable in how they view their men and women, this is true in canon. Oftentimes one of the harshest places to live in Westeros, I feel like there's little time for divisive gender roles when every person is needed to work and help the collective survive. Both Dornish men and women tend to be sociable and friendly, due to their collectivist culture. An ideal man is considered to be outgoing, someone who treats their subjects and friends in a familiar manner. And they must be a least a little bit hot blooded, being seen as a sign they will defend the land Nymeria fought for. Women are supposed to be equally as friendly, frequently having guests over and creating community. They must be bold too, have a will to live in the lands. However, their customs often are mistaken for promiscuity by the non-dornish.

7. The Iron Islands ideal people probably have more of a stereotypical Norse/Viking mindset. It's not an easy land to live in, and both men and women have to be hardened in order to survive, the weak are left behind. For men, it's all a battle of dominance. If a man wants respect, he has to take it. He must be the strongest, the most violent, the man who can lead others to bloody victory. A lot of crass, stubborn personalities exist in turn. Women, even though looked down upon, still have to be as hardened as their men, despite the lack of respect they receive. A "respectable" woman is stubborn and unshakable, with a temperament that can take whatever is thrown at her. However, she is still jeered and disrespected by the men who call her a good woman.

8. The Crownlands are interesting, because there is no one defining culture, it's a real melting pot. The ideal is whatever is popular during any given time, which is dictated by whatever king sits the throne or noble whispers in his ear. So, men have to be very gregarious, able to get along with everyone, incase whoever they are loyal to suddenly falls from grace, and they must curry favor with someone else. Women are expected to be flirty and coquettish, an accomplished girl who can catch the eye of prominent noblemen that can secure their future. Basically a city of snakes and backstabbers looking for footholds into power.

[coffeeghoulie]

If it’s possible would you be able to mix 20 and 6 together with Swiss and Phantom? If not you can choose which one you want

Thanks in advance if you come up with anything

I did my best to combine these, though I feel like you had a certain scenario in mind and I tried to follow that but my brain went "oops, Swiss angst" instead. This technically follows both my Swiss and Aeon lore from Eternal Heatstroke, but you don't need to have read that for this. Hope you enjoy!

#20: on a scar and #6: on a falling tear from this prompt list

Aeon hates when Swiss goes still. The multi-ghoul is almost constantly in a state of motion, shifting his weight, tail swaying behind him, tapping his toes or drumming his fingers. Normally, the only time he stops moving is when he's asleep, and even then he doesn't quite lay still. He's only still if he's hurting, upset and lost in thought.

The door to their room creaks, and Aeon knocks on the frame before they enter. The room is dark and they can just barely see his silhouette where he sits on the edge of the bed. "'S just me," they say as their good eye adjusts to the darkness. "Missed you today."

Swiss makes a non-committal noise, a flat hum, to acknowledge they've been heard, but he doesn't move. If it weren't for the shallow rise and fall of his breathing, Aeon could be convinced he's been traded out for one of the statues in the chapel.

Aeon chews nervously at their bottom lip, hand trembling as they start to reach out. "Swiss, can you talk to me?" they ask, voice wavering.

He still doesn't move, head in his hands. Aeon bites their lip harder, carefully making their way to his side. "Sorry bug, thought I'd've pulled myself together by now."

He'd woken up like this, quiet and withdrawn, and Aeon had done their best to cheer him up before they had to rush off to their chores. But it hadn't worked.

Aeon shakes their head, sitting down next to him; close enough that they can feel his body heat against their thigh, but far enough away that they can give him an out if he wants to take it. "If I were feeling bad," they begin softly, each word careful, "Would you want to let me sit there and pull myself together?"

Swiss looks up at that, and Aeon tries to hide their wince at just how puffy his eyes are, the pretty gold of his irises wet with unshed tears. "No, I wouldn't," he says.

"Could you just talk to me?" Aeon asks. "I- I don't like not being able to help, Swiss."

Swiss laughs wetly. "I know, buggy," he says, voice still a little distant. "I know."

Aeon doesn't say anything, just stubbornly holds Swiss's gaze, waiting for one of them to speak.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually Swiss heaves a sigh, drifting just close enough that their thighs are pressed together knee to hip. Aeon leans in, still hesitant, waiting for an adverse reaction, and rests their temple on his shoulder. "Had a weird dream, bug," he says, staring at the wall. Aeon is reminded painfully of that first heart-to-heart, all those months ago. "Pit dream."

"Oh," Aeon breathes, chuffing and trying to comfort him. They know all about Pit dreams; having been plagued with them the first few months they'd been Up Top. "Alone?"

Swiss takes a deep breath, leaning over, carefully avoiding the points of their horns as he rests his head on top of theirs. "Nah, from before I left. Birth pack shit."

Aeon hums, pressing themself closer to him comfortingly.

"It's funny, missing people who hurt you," Swiss says, his words hanging heavy in the air. "Dreamt about my mother, and my sisters, and things were good. Things were really good, and I didn't know it was a dream until I woke up this morning."

His voice cracks, and Aeon looks up, eyes wide, just as a tear races down his cheek, disappearing into his stubble.

"I really miss them," he says, voice small. Aeon shifts, grabbing his waist and turning him so he can embrace their multighoul tight, fingers carding through his braids as they guide his head down. They kiss his cheek, just over that shiny teartrack, the exact spot where, before they had gotten along, Aeon had clawed. It had been healed, leaving no trace except for both of them knowing what had happened. They kiss his cheek again, the corner of his lips, before bringing his head down to the crook of their neck.

"I know," Aeon whispers, because they do know, has been held through this exact same dilemma. Swiss greedily accepts the embrace, holding them tight around their ribs as he cries against theit neck.

"Thank you, bug," Swiss whispers, once he's cried himself out. Aeon chuffs, blunt claws scratching his scalp.

"Any time," Aeon says simply. "You did the same for me."

[possessionisamyth]

In addition to that bingo card here are

Things I would like to see in more Chreon smut and Chreon fic in general:

-Chris bottoms! Let him bottom! Please unlearn that the bigger, darker, "meaner" character is the top and the smaller, thinner, "softer" character is the bottom. It's not just fujoshi tropes. That's literally how so many people write het ships that many of you all claim to hate, and this occurs even moreso when race comes into play.

-They're both emotionally constipated right after a job. Don't let Chris be the one that gives in and is emotionally understanding and gentle with Leon. Let them both be rough around the edges and struggling to meet in the middle, but let them BOTH put in those baby steps of effort. No more Chris handles Leon like a little soft baby boy as if Chris isn't just as brutalized on the clock.

-Leon reaches out to Chris first. For people who've actually gone through Revelations 1, RE5, and Death Island especially, you will notice that Chris doesn't try to talk unless he needs to. Other than that, he will let the other person talk and talk and just listen. Chris is a listener, and he will not defend himself. He'll defend what he's fighting for, but never himself. That screams low self-esteem as the war against BOWs get worse and worse. Leon handles this with jokes but Chris meets it with quiet and that's such an interesting character trait I wish more people would explore.

-They're both wary about saying "I love you" too soon. It doesn't need to be friends with benefits or a situationship for them to have this concern. Who knows when either of them will be coming back from a mission alive no less unscathed. Let them avoid it for as long as possible and let their actions speak louder.

-Let Leon say "I love you" first. In addition to the last point, let it be Leon showing that vulnerability first and foremost. It can be an accident where he's absolutely mortified or even during an intense moment where Chris is being especially difficult and withdrawn. No need to list all the traits or reasons why Chris is worthy of Leon's love, but let Chris really sit there with it and battle about whether or not he deserves something like that at all. Their lives are so dangerous, and he's lost so many people. Could he handle losing Leon after a confession like that?

-Leon's place is extremely bereft of personal touches. It looks more like a hotel than a place someone lives. Instead of what people assume every person with an alcohol addiction lives like, let Leon's place show he's really fallen into believing the government uses him as a weapon and nothing more. If there are any personal items, it's limited to a small, hidden place only he can access. The first time Chris comes over he deems it impressive. Leon's living like in one of those magazines, but the more he visits and the less changes he sees, the more concerned he becomes about Leon's state of mind.

-Drunk Chris comes onto sober Leon. I've only seen this a handful of times, but more of this role reversal would be so nice.

-Sexy roleplay that isn't the same BDSM dirty talk I keep seeing over and over again. Put Leon in a halloween sexy nurse costume. Put Chris in those pin up calendar firefighter costumes. Put Leon in a chip n' dales fit. Put Chris in a maid outfit. Like, establish roles they have to play instead of the Chris Dom Top and Leon subby femboy bottom I keep seeing everyone copy off from each other.

Hope this inspires people. I'm too busy writing a rarepair.

[nohoney]

do you think Katsuki and the Reader would pull a Katniss and Peetahbx?? could you maybe write something about it? i feel like it’s be very interesting, all three living in the victors village, and the love triangle

oooh let’s nod our heads and say that they did (◕‿◕)

“Bakugou. Where’s (Name)?” Hawks asks after navigating through at least a dozen people in the party to try to find you. You’re supposed to stick close to either one of them, no matter what. The three of you need to stick together since the Capitol’s eyes are on you for breaking the rules. A year has passed since you and Bakugou were put into the games.

And it’s been months since you’ve withdrawn into yourself.

“I think they’re trying to split us apart.” Bakugou tuts, “They’re nosier than ever. Fucking pricks.”

Hawks worries for you; you were already nervous as it was just getting ready. He can only hope you’re keeping your composure wherever you are. You haven’t been the same since the games.

The near death experience changed you, and it didn’t help that you were confused about your own feelings towards himself and Bakugou.

“Hawks is gonna take care of you, okay? You’re going to be alright as long as you stick by him.” Bakugou tried to calm you in the last moments of the game when you and him were left standing. Hawks remembers how you trembled, distraught with blood on your face. “He’s always cared about you more than anyone else.”

“N-No… I need you!” Your voice shivered, “I can’t go home without you!”

You tried to cling to Bakugou but he was able to push you off. The both of you were tired but Bakugou still had enough energy to throw himself into a rushing river, which in a matter of seconds would have killed him and made you the victor. Instead the second he threw himself in, you ran right in after him.

The two of you drowned. The game makers acted quickly to stop the rushing tides of the river and their machines finding your bodies that would have been impossible to find if not for the controlled environment to make the waters still within a matter of seconds.

There was no choice but to let the two of you live to the relief of audience but not to the Capitol.

The hardest part about living after the games was watching you become so quiet. And all the questions of the relationship between the three of you began to arise. Bakugou’s words about Hawks taking care of you, the childhood stories Hawks revealed to gain you extra support in the games, all the recordings played of the three of you together or apart were over analyzed to delve deeper into what the relationship between the three of you was.

“Hawks, we know you already said it before, that you only think of (Name) as someone you care about. But just between the two of us, you can tell me-“ a random party goer comes up to Hawks and invades his space.

It’s all Hawks is doing at these shindigs, avoiding questions from others about how he feels about you. He’s been bombarded for the last few months with questions and recorded clips in his face and elite gossipers swearing that he can tell them the truth and it won’t get out.

“Fuck off.” Bakugou pushes off the random person and stomps away. “‘M gonna find her.”

“Yeah, the two of you together go find your little princess.” A couple giggle together before quickly turning away.

It did not help that everyone was thinking that you were being handed back and forth between Bakugou and Hawks.

They find you sitting at a table amongst others, leaning on your elbow and looking exhausted. There are several little flutes on the top of the table and what looks like a servant grabbing a napkin and wiping at your mouth. Hawks recognizes the liquid in one of the flutes; it’s used to help people throw up when they feel full so that they can keep on eating or drinking.

“You feel better? Here, you got it all out your system so have another drink.” Someone offers and you blindly reach for it.

Bakugou is quick to step in, “She’s done, get that away from her.”

“Oh come on! She can handle it! She already did it three times.”

Oh fuck, they had to get you out as soon as possible. Hawks is excusing everyone politely while Bakugou carries you off.

“My tummy hurts…” you mumble into Bakugou’s collar. “I don’t feel good.”

“Because you kept drinking and then throwing it up. Those damn assholes were trying to keep you drunk.” He points out, “We’re taking you to bed.”

Hawks walks behind, bidding goodbye on behalf for you and Bakugou and just also wanting out of this party.

The three of you ride silently in the bullet train back to your district. You’re curled up against a leather couch with Bakugou’s coat over your shoulders and Hawks rubbing your back to soothe you. Your head is in your hands, having kept it down the moment Bakugou settled you onto the couch.

“They made me drink,” You murmured, finally finding some energy to put your head up, “I didn’t want to but they gave me stuff that didn’t taste like alcohol.”

Bakugou’s lips press into a thin line and his face easy to read. Hawks isn’t surprised at all but he’s frustrated that they managed to isolate you away from them.

Out of the three of them, people look to you to reveal what the nature of your relationship is with them. Months of prodding and pestering. If Bakugou hadn’t mentioned anything about Hawks before diving into the water, then the two of you could have just been paired as a couple and played the part for the crowds after pulling you up from the river.

Now the three of you are tense around one another, walking silently back to the victors village and to your separate houses.

You look at both of them but cast your eyes down quickly as you enter your home. Bakugou only watches you disappear behind your door before secluding himself away. And Hawks stands at his doorstep first, looking at yours and Bakugou’s house side by side together.

This wasn’t what he imagined what it’d be like to have you and Bakugou back. He finally has neighbors in the village and yet it’s feeling lonelier than ever.

[mellotronmkll]

I feel so bad rn cos i feel so bad for my dad because he's going through some pretty hard stuff rn which I will not get into but it just sucks its very sad and i know its bringing up a lot of past trauma for him and i just feel his sadness so keenly because it's crazy too because we are both so so similar like I'm So much like him but I kind of never realized it growing up and we never talked about it until recently but like. Just the way our brains work and our social difficulties struggling with friendships and insecurities and stuff and idk but we have been talking about it a lot more since he started going to therapy and I started to get more open with my parents about a lot of stuff i was keeping quiet but anyways its like. We share a lot of sadness and shame lol i dont know and the main thing is we both are so withdrawn and always withdraw further into ourselves when things get bad but we both are trying to stop doing that and so I'm trying so hard to reach out to him and connect with him more like 1 on 1 and he is too and it's so frustrating to me that we don't live in the same house anymore. Because like I just talked to him on the phone for over an hour and it was so nice and I can tell he really needed it and like we have our family dnd session on Monday and he kind of shyly asked if we could just both get on the call before the rest of the family shows up to just talk about music and stuff for an hour or something beforehand and I was just like YES of course but likeyeah I don't know it's so frustrating because I just want to go and give him a hug and spend time with him because we both desperately need it but he lives 8 hours away and the most frustrating thing is thinking about how when I Did live with him and also during my 20s after I move out we didn't really connect like this because dumb things got in the way like me being a teenager and him being repressed and weird about talking about his emotions and being vulnerable and now that we actually both can be completely honest with eachother it's INSANE how much our feelings mirror eachothers and how much we can relate to eachother and its just like. If only we had done this sooner!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But there's no time like the present but now I live so far away. And honestly I just feel like I took him for granted earlier in my life but also he needed to work on himself too and so did I so I dont know. But also he was as far as dads go a really extremely good father and I tell him that but when I was a teenager I was definitely making him feel I hated him and I wish I could Truly express just how much I actually am grateful and proud of him and forgive him for everything that I ever was angry about and anything he ever fucked up lol. But it's crazy to think how like earlier in my life I was horribly selfish and I was busy and stuff and I still thought of my parents as My Parents instead of you know real people on some level subconsciously..and back then I probably wouldn't have registered or noticed as much when he was struggling with things like he is now but now it hurts me So much to just only be able to call him and try to let him know he's not alone but I know from experience that even though that helps. Like I Know how bad it can get because I feel it too and we are the same. And just. Oh my god man getting older is so crazy and sad! Honestly! And its just gonna keep happening and thats the scariest thing. but anyways

[yan-lorkai]

Ok so I know you're going Through It™️ with the vampire pomtrio fic. But I am curious on how exactly Epel came to be..."adopted" by Vil and Rook. Idk if it'll ever be brought up in the fic so imma ask now if that's cool. If it is then I'll just wait! If not then I would love to hear an infodump about their backstories in this au I love monster aus so much man 🙏🙏

Well, I did leave some crumbs in the fic but now that I'm thinking about it, everything was very subtle. So I'm just going to info dumping about Epel and his dads to u :D

Ok so for Epel I was imagining him being a sick child, always bedridden (inspired by me btw, I used to be the sick child), looking at the world through his little window and wishing he was different. He wished he was strong like the others so he could jump and run and play with the other children, he wished he could feel the sun on his skin as he worked in the fields with his grandmother and cousin. He wished people wouldn't look at him with those eyes full of pity, as if he were already dead. He knew that rumors about his condition were circulating among his neighbors, he just didn't know that anyone else was hearing them.

From his perspective, wishing did nothing. He was still so weak that his body couldn't stand upright a long time, he was still coughing and vomiting, and no doctor knew what he had. His medicines no longer working, his hopes fading, he became more withdrawn after a while, almost monosyllable. He wasn't living, he was just existing and Epel judged his existence as something insignificant in that dark moment. One day he fell asleep after another appointment with the doctor - this time a blond foreigner with beautiful lilac eyes, and he had a heavy but peaceful sleep, unlike many others in which he woke up with difficulty breathing. This time he felt no pain. He didn't even had any nightmare.

Although he felt better, a little stronger, after drinking the cocktail made by the Doctor with a funny name, Epel was still on the threshold between being sick and getting better. When he thinks about that moment now, he should have realized that Vil's words were filled with immortal secrets and that he knew more than everyone else. Vil was different from anyone he had ever seen or spoken to, and Epel had spoken to many doctors and nurses, yet Epel wished for Vil to cure him. Wishing was useless but he continued anyway. He preyed for it very quietly when he thought he was alone.

If you ask him, he still remembers how his transformation occurred. It was raining and windy that day, the raindrops hitting the roof were so loud that he couldn't hear anything that was happening outside his room. Honestly, he was glad he couldn't hear it. But he remembers feeling fear come over him when Dr. Schoenheit entered his room, his lab coat stained with blood while tiny drops still fell from his lips. He looked like a beast about to devour everything his fangs could reach. And yet, Epel supposed there was something poetic about dying at the hands of the one who had saved him. Instead, Vil asked him to join his little family, which at that time It consisted of just him and his father, Eric, that loved to travel around and see how the world had changed.

Epel agreed, as long as Vil spared his family. For which he approved, he had enchanted Epel's family and neighbors for them to forget him. He could have easily killed them but he was not bloodthirsty back then, every killing had to have a good reason. And then it happened. Epel was adopted and left together with Vil- no, his dad, as he liked to call him. Ofc everything was new to him and he often got scolded when he was out exploring humans villages alone and attacked someone when he got hungry. But nobody could judge him, Epel was living life (or death? 🤔) to its fullest!

(not sure if I'm gonna include this but initially I thought that over the years, Vil's father's passion took a stake to his heart. After all, humans are fearful people who fear the unknown. This would be the main reason for Vil to become even more responsible and mature, and cruel. He was never too compassionate or empathetic towards human being a natural born vampire, but after losing his father he had became more closed off to the everyone but his.)

Anyway a few centuries later, Rook Hunt appears in their lives. An eccentric vampire hunter known to trap vampires to study them, to know how to better hunt and kill them, mind you he only does this for fun. The first time met Vil he was so mesmerized by Vil's beauty that he started courting him, sending him little gifts (which consisted of the heads of his enemies, blood sags to feed him or his son, the most beautiful clothes and tiaras he could find). Meanwhile Vil is right here, confused bcs "wth is this strange human and why he likes to follow me around? Why isn't he afraid of me?" But like, eventually those two get together as a couple and Vil turns him too.

Though Vil did talked with his son first before turning Rook. He has a rule: for anyone to join the family, every member should want this. Otherwise, a transformation is not viable.

(But y'know initially Deuce would also be Epel's older brother - mostly bcs I love their friendship, Deuce would be Yuu's friend who guided them to this vacant mansion and also the one to vote for Yuu to become their younger sibling. Can't remember why I didn't follow this idea tho, but now I'm going to be think about this for a while)

This turned longer than I intended hehe. But if you still have any questions to make, I'm more than happy to answer it :)

[sayonaramidnight]

Do you find that your interpretations of your character changes as you get older/learn more about the world around you? For example, a soft character may have started innocent but they (and, by extension, you) choose to keep them that way despite the harshness of the world? Does your character's expertise on a subject change as you become more familiar with it, etc.?

This question has made me think a lot and my thoughts went many different ways, so please forgive me if I get incoherent and/or start digressing~

In general, I'd say my interpretation of my characters kind of depends on my mental and emotional state, but also on where I am with my life and what kind of stories and motifs I'm currently into, and what I'm fed up with. There was a time when I thought of kind and gentle characters as too sweet and naive, but later I learnt to admire them. How about those who are serious and brooding? Younger me thought they were So Cool. Older me wanted to make fun of them. Current me just waits and sees what they do.

That said, most of my characters have been with me for many years, decades even - and then there's Helvi, who's only been there since, 2018, but I started playing for serious in 2019! Given that time is a weird soup and the years 2020-2023 have blended into one short period of time in my mind, it feels like two years at most, so I'm not sure whether I got older or more experienced in such a short time XD

But! One of the very few things I've known about her since the very beginning is that she follows Menphina and it makes love one of the big recurring themes of her story. It got me wonder, how to interpret her faith, because, really, there are so many ways you can go to express it! Will you share your love with your family? Friends? Paramour(s)? Nation? Random people you meet on your way? Do you pray for everyone's successful love life or just focus on your own? Seek your fairy tale romance or indulge in daydreams? Have many lovers or commit to one relationship, or maybe fill your heart with pure love for the whole world instead? So many possibilities and for a long time I didn't know what to choose...

Then it turned out there was room in her heart for all of the above, to some extent.

But let me tell you it wasn't easy to figure out for quite a while. See, from Heavensward to Shadowbringers I played with no long breaks. I had all these expansions, so I jumped from one story right into another and didn't give myself much time to sit down and think. After the emotional rollercoaster that was HW, I mostly ran Helvi through SB on autopilot, and then another rollercoaster came along... And she felt so tired most of the time, so exhausted and still the kindest soul ever, but distant and withdrawn at the same time. She spent a lot of time grieving and self-loathing And I asked myself: is she going to get better? Can she get better? Can she fall in love again? Does she even want to? And at that time, the answer was 'no'. She seemed.. resigned to her fate. Reached into her own soul and found darkness, and decided to embrace it and use it to fight. And it seemed like she would be hardened that way.

Then, there was a long break between ShB and EW, and I could finally think in peace, share my thoughts with friends and answer their countless and valuable questions, and even write a few snippets, putting her feelings and some events from her life. I let her go back and do some thinking in peace too. She let herself laugh heartily again. She didn't stop being a dark knight, but simply added red magic and dancing to her fighting skills and thus found the balance she needed. She made peace with herself. She even fell in love again, after all, and is not going to let this love go. Now, in any friend group, she's that friend who gives away hugs freely and dotes upon everyone, and dances like no one's watching, and also defends you fiercely.

I know I'm rambling, but all I want to say there is a big difference between playing with or without long breaks and it may change your perspective and interpretation of your character :D

[partrin]

sad haru hours.

i know it wasn't ever really talked about in free! because haru never really spoke of his feelings about it (the only time i ever recall anything said about his parents is when makoto offhandedly remarked about how haru's parents are "free-spirited") but i can't imagine anyone, not even haru (despite his stoic nature), growing up without their parents and not feeling any sort of... fear of abandonment because of it. maybe i'm just saying this as someone who developed an intense fear of abandonment because of my own personal strained relationship with my parents but... being someone who dealt with that fear/the absence of parents the same way haru does for most of the series (re: indifference, at least outwardly), it makes me wonder if haru has ever felt empty or a sense of longing whenever he spends his time around the tachibana family, or when he learns of how tight-knit the matsuoka family is despite rin's loss (of his father). i wonder if haru felt any envy, and then guilt for feeling that way, only to quell it down by masking it with indifference (because that is exactly how i dealt with the envy and guilt growing up. even now, actually). i wonder if that's why haru's character is portrayed as quiet, withdrawn, lonely and emotionally-stunted (or if it's just a coincidence. like, how far into haru's upbringing did kyoani actually decide to take into account when they created his character? i really want to know).

.. because as someone who has seen and observed the difference it makes in a person's character when they grow up in a secure home with parents that are present (e.g. rin being confident and able to work towards big dreams for himself, makoto being generally secure and positive about everything.. both of them having the support of their families), it makes haru's character so painfully relatable and dear to me. and then all of haru's struggles unfold with the series (not understanding if what he felt was loneliness, not being comfortable with physical contact—a common experience for people who did not grow up with much physical intimacy from their parents, struggling with rejection (quitting swimming the moment he felt rejected by rin and then dwelling on the guilt because he thinks rin quit because of him), struggling with emotional expression, not wanting to explore beyond his comfort zone, not having a dream because no one has ever really pushed for him to reach for one and thus struggling with relating to those around him that do have goals and dreams, and then finally having a dream and pushing himself way too hard because there is no one to guide him (and so he takes azuma's words quite literally when he tells him he has to throw things away in order to become stronger).. idk. i'm not sure how to describe what i feel about this but it makes me want to put haru in my pocket and protect him from the world because i relate to too much of it.

it's a common theme in most of the fics i've read that talk about haru's relationship with his barely-there parents.. but i wish there was some sort of confirmation from kyoani about why they made haru's character the way he is and whether it has anything to do with his family. like, i know a big part of consuming content is reading between the lines because not everything has to be spelt out for you to grasp the idea, but.. maybe the little, childish me deep down that thought, "hey, he's just like me" wants it to be confirmed and true instead of feeling like i'm just making a big deal out of nothing, y'know? but anyways.

ily haru. you are my baby. ily ily ily.

[kaseyskat]

lovesong 38 for the kiss prompt pwease nyxie <3

(#38 - a kiss because they're running out of time)

~~~

"You're going to break up with me."

The way Nick says it has Sparrow flinching, even as they sit together in Nick's bedroom, hiding from the rest of the world. You're wrong, he wants to say more than anything, but the words die on his tongue, and all he can do is turn his head, stare at his partner.

Nick is staring straight ahead, not looking at anything. His hair hides his expression, and with the way his hands are folded in his lap, his shoulders slumped, Sparrow knows he's already accepted it; that this night will be their last, one way or another.

"Yeah," he finally admits, and he breathes deep through his nose and exhales through his mouth, just like his father taught him. "I... you know I don't want to, but..."

"Your family," Nick says flatly. This, too, almost has Sparrow wince: over the two years they've been seeing each other in secret, he had finally gotten the soft side of Nick, the side of him he hadn't let anyone else see. It hurts now, being treated just like the rest of their friend group.

"My family." Sparrow slumps now too, and he stares at the floor- it hurts too much to look at Nick any longer, to see someone he loves so withdrawn. "I don't want to hurt you, starling."

"You could never hurt me," Nick says, quietly, but he doesn't sound entirely convinced.

It's not true, anyways. All my brother and I know how to do is hurt people. Still, Sparrow swallows, and he hesitantly reaches out one hand, placing it over Nick's in his lap without looking at him in the process.

"It doesn't have to be tonight," he murmurs, tentative and soft, hesitant. "Will you... will you spend one more night with me?" Please. I don't want this either.

Sparrow has never prioritized his own wants over the needs of others, especially when it comes to his father and Lark and the mess of the world they've made together. This one, though, hurts worse than all the other times he's allowed his familial duty to win over his personal desires. Can't he have one good thing in his life? Can't he have this?

"One more night," Nick agrees, and when his hands close over Sparrow's own, Sparrow finally regains the courage to look at him. Surprisingly, Nick is looking back at him, and even with how upset he clearly is about the entire situation, his gaze reflects nothing but fondness.

"So kiss me," Sparrow challenges, and he tilts his head up, baring his neck. Make me forget why I'm breaking up with you. Make me feel like this night will last forever. "Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Nick huffs.

Usually, when they kiss, it's in a blaze of passion. Sparrow still doesn't really care for kissing, but he enjoys the way Nick feels pressed against him, the heady rush of power that goes to his head, the way Nick makes him feel claimed, taken, loved.

This time, though, it's slow. Nick trails a hand over Sparrow's cheek, thumbing gently over the curve of his lips, his fingers tingling as he brushes hair behind Sparrow's ear. Sparrow's squirming in place by the time those fingers trail lower, to his neck, and then curl around to his hair.

"Nicky, what are you doing?" he finally asks when Nick still makes no move to lean in, instead focusing so hard on combing through Sparrow's hair, his gaze dark and intense.

"Studying you," Nick answers. "So I never forget."

Well, damn. Sparrow shuts up, and he takes the time to study Nick in return: the curve of his jawline, the way his jacket gives way to his collarbone, the faintest trace of bite marks that Sparrow's left for him in the past. He is, Sparrow thinks, unfairly attractive.

It'll hurt leaving him behind. Fuck.

Finally, finally, Nick uses the hand still tangled in Sparrow's hair to coax him forwards, drawing him into a kiss. It is softer than any other time they've kissed: before, Nick would kiss like he's staking a claim, but now each gentle press of his lips is an apology, a goodbye.

Sparrow can only close his eyes, allow himself to fall prone into Nick's arms, remain stock-still when Nick trails his lips against the corner of Sparrow's mouth and then lower, mouthing at the skin of his neck.

If Nick notices when he starts crying, he doesn't say anything.

[whiteheartlight]

Your thoughts on Onua not stepping in to help resolve conflict among his siblings have been rotating in my brain. What do you think this tells about him as a character if I may ask? (He deserves to have some flaws and make mistakes.)

ONUAAAAAA I love him and yes he gets to be flawed too. I like the thoughts I've talked about where he is genuinely just soaking in the chaos and enjoying what's going on instead of intervening (eating popcorn while Tahu tackles Kopaka), but I also see his passivity to their conflict as just being a means for him to avoid becoming wrapped up in it, and honestly, with the way the rest of the team (Gali, Tahu, and Kopaka especially) get so frustrated with each other at times, there's some benefit to him just being able to stay out of it. He enjoys chaos, but he's also wise enough to know that some of the bickering is just not worth getting involved in.

But it does sometimes leave Gali feeling like he is unwilling to help! she's annoyed with him in the very first book because of this. I think Onua sees things very objectively sometimes and chooses to sidestep emotional involvement at times. That makes it all the more powerful when we see him step into emotions in other scenes, like when he throws himself fully into refusing to fight Lewa and comforting him through his first possession. and while fighting the piraka, he recognizes objectively that he will likely die if he does not run: instead, he looks around at his teammates and chooses to die with them, because he loves all of them. Onua can make extremely difficult decisions, like freeing the Bahrag to destroy Mata Nui when no one else can do it. I headcanon him as the one who would be Kopaka's right hand if Tahu ever died or was incapacitated, but they'd have to have a discussion about the need for Onua to intervene more actively in interpersonal issues.

Onua can distance himself in a way that is reminiscent to Kopaka, but Kopaka's self-isolation is often implied to come from fear of embarrassment or rejection, and we never really get that suggestion from Onua. He's in control of his social needs and the way that he relates to his teammates, choosing very particularly when to intervene. This can make him a loyal friend and confident emotional support - it can also make him hard to reach or aloof to the problems of his siblings if those problems seem unimportant to him. He's emotionally intelligent, so he has no excuse for not helping keep the team together better at times or at least letting the others know he cares about their unity!

For more on his flaws, my expectation is that Onua could become withdrawn during times of his own emotional need because, in the same way that he sees some of other people's emotional issues as being unimportant or not necessary to intervene in, he can think the same about his own issues and just push through without reaching out for help he may need. I also think he would make a poor politician in terms of working with others on the new world: he almost always knows the right answer to a conflict, but having to argue with others about it would be extremely grating to him and would make him feel alone in his wisdom (although he will always stand up for what's right without hesitation if needed). He prefers offering counsel to those willing to listen, so his more argumentative siblings can handle the squabbling with his support behind them.

Oh, and he hates having his quiet time interrupted by strangers. Unless you're his siblings or friends, don't try to talk to him while he's digging!

[iviarellereads]

Nona the Ninth, Chapter 29

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(First House icon) In which oh yeah, that WAS in the day's events preview, wasn't it?

Everyone makes to get into the big truck, and Nona thinks longingly of her home. Pyrrha sits Nona in the chair Cam no longer needs. The new person herds everyone, stopping and healing all the worn-down people. The Angel and Pash show up, with Noodle as well. Nona asks if they're coming with, and Pash says not to get her started. She goes where Aim goes, and Aim is going with the crew, to the Nine Houses. Aim says they are a liability, and the commander will get some breathing room once they're safe.

Nona said: “Who are you?” Then she explained, “Everyone asks me the same question, so—I feel like it’s my turn.” “You don’t get to ask,��� said Pash roughly; which Nona thought was a wonderful and very cool answer she wished she had come up with herself. But the Angel leant down and looked at Nona. There was something settled in her face: a calmness that had not existed there before—a kind of immovable, fixed-concrete resolve. [...] She suddenly reached up and grasped the Angel’s hand, and the Angel grasped hers, and the Angel looked at her. “I’m the Messenger,” said the Angel simply. “We are the Message … the message has two parts left, and you are looking at one of those parts. The name for this part of the message was ‘Aim’ when the message was passed to us through my forebear Emma Sen.(1) The message is too simple for human beings like us to understand. What do you think the message is?”(2) Nona couldn’t guess. “I hope you hear it one day,” said Aim. She reached out—she ruffled Nona’s hair—she smiled. Then she said, “Noodle, let’s go,” and she stepped resolutely up the ramp and into the truck.

Pash makes a joke about having to shoot Nona now,(3) waits a beat, then says it really was only a joke, and goes up the ramp. Pyrrha picks Nona out of the chair and remarks that she's been very calm. Nona says there's not long left, and asks if they're going to find her. Pyrrha says yes, it might be time to wake her up.

Pyrrha brings her to a huge cockpit with massive wraparound windows. Kiriona is already there, strapped into a seat.

She did not speak to them, even when Pyrrha said, “Hey, kid.” She had not said much of anything since Camilla and Palamedes had become Camilla-and-Palamedes—seemed withdrawn and lost in thought, unwilling to look at anyone or anything.(4)

The new person enters, with We Suffer, and Crown supporting Judith. The new person takes the biggest seat at the front.

“Mind showing me how this thing starts?” they said to the commander. “Oh, dear God,”(5) said the commander. “For what I am about to do, I will go down as history’s greatest monster.”

Nevertheless, she leans down and gives instructions. Pyrrha asks to be allowed to drive instead.

“No chance,” said Palamedes-and-Camilla comfortably. And: “Commander … thank you. Leave everything to me.” “I do—I have,” said We Suffer. And— “Every single hope of Eden(6) now rests within this clapped-out vehicle.” “Same for the Nine Houses,” said Palamedes-and-Camilla. “You know what I want,” said We Suffer. She turned to address the rest of the driver’s cockpit. “To complete what she started. Troia, listen to me. Every so often there is invoked a Blood of Eden mission protocol—we call it Protocol One. It is used in times of either terrible joy or the worst possible outcomes. Protocol One means there are no more formal orders—if given in the field of battle, often it is understood as ‘Scatter. Retreat. Disunite,’ but it is not quite that. There is a different protocol that is simply used for retreat, protocol that means ‘Save yourselves.’ I received the order to save myself when I was young … and I saved myself, which is why you hear me now, starting this terrible truck, putting my life’s work in the hands of my enemies and of strangers I do not understand. But now I give you Protocol One … and Protocol One is ‘Live.’”(7)

Crown and Pyrrha salute WS, and the new person asks what mission protocol she'll give the local forces. WS replies, basically the standard, "Fight like hell and do not shoot any civilians." She starts wishing them luck in turn, Crown, Nona, even Pyrrha, but when she comes to the new person…

We Suffer paused. Camilla-and-Palamedes cocked their burnt head to one side. “Paul,” they suggested.(8) “Paul. Good luck, Paul,” said We Suffer. “Now … you have my coat, which you can keep, but my wallet is in the breast pocket, so hand it over.”

Paul obediently hands over the wallet, and WS leaves to give final orders to those not in the room. Pyrrha asks how long they'd been planning the conversion, and Paul says "They had a lot of rainy-day backup plans."

“Yeah, but—Paul?” “Just Paul,” said Paul. Crown suggested, “Paul … Hect?” “Just Paul,” said Paul. “U Lap,” said the corpse prince, from the back of the cabin.(9) “Thanks for your contribution,” said Paul. “Aulp,” said the corpse prince. “No,” said Paul.

There's a final burst of radio comm with WS, wishing luck and such, and then Paul starts up the truck. Nona feels so strange, insulated from the mechanical movement feelings by being in Pyrrha's lap, with her body feeling so numb. Pyrrha asks, what now, and Paul releases a lever allowing the truck to lurch forward. The cabin grows cold. An automated fan starts whirring to clear the condensation from everyone's breaths, and a heater melts it into water that pools, then starts to run up into the windshield.

Paul leant forward on the accelerator, and then—

=====

(1) The Messenger. I think I already alluded to AOL Instant Messenger in a previous chapter. This just confirms it. Emma Sen, MSN messenger. I can't tell if I think this was just an incredibly elaborate setup for a joke, or if I think Muir is going to pull something out of this reference in Alecto. Both, really, I suppose. (2) What do you think the message is? Why are there two parts? Who, or what, is the other? The message is too simple, but they didn't say the message, they said codewords that imply a message. I can't wait to see if this comes back, honestly. (3) The classic "you know too much" beat from spy movies. Is it really a meme or reference, in the modern senses, or just… universal language of storytelling, at this point? (4) Wondering what it would be like to have fused with Harrow so thoroughly. Wondering if there's still a chance they could. Wondering if it's better not to know the insides of Harrow's thoughts so intimately after all. Thoughts wandering (intentionally confusing usage) onward down through all the questions she still has about and for Harrow. I see you, Kiriona. (5) Very likely, a very different God from the one most of the Nine Houses characters have invoked. Though, maybe the same one as John. (6) Every hope of Eden. What does We Suffer hope for Eden? There's so much symbology in the choice of the name of the organization, after all. We just saw in John's recounting the way that the ancestors of the modern non-House civilization cast themselves out of Eden, out of the origin world, out of the safety of the garden of home. How much has the Blood of Eden mission changed in ten thousand years? How far have they warped? What do they even want anymore, besides… no, not besides, what do they want after elimination of the Nine Houses empire? Do they even know? Do they have the faintest idea? (7) I can't find a good specific reference for this, it's so vague as to be unsearchable, but it's a beautiful backup mission statement to have at the ready.

(8) This one word, this one line, is quite honestly what made me want to do this whole project. It's been percolating in my brain for the entire 10 months since I first read the book. Honestly I don't even think I have space for my entire yell about it, so the shortest version is "go look up some articles about Paul the Apostle, and yell with me." The next shortest version is that Paul was born Saul (which calls back to the longish ah sound that Muir said in the GtN bonus materials tied Palamedes and Camilla's names together as a matched pair) and was an enemy of Jesus, before he had a revelation, and converted. As many as fourteen of the twenty-seven books of the New Testament are sometimes attributed to his writing, though only seven can be undoubtedly verified. Contrary to common belief, Paul wasn't exactly a name given on his conversion. It was fairly typical to have a Hebrew name and a Greco-Roman name at the time, and the names are used somewhat interchangeably in some contexts within gospel. Using "Paul" would put a lot of his converts more at ease than using "Saul" in the same era. At any rate, Paul was one of the biggest names in the early Church, big on conversion this guy. And I think the symbolism of all that, rolled up into this new unfaithful Lyctor who started faithful to John and now is faithful to their own ideal… it's just very interesting. Especially since Kiriona the actual son (daughter) of God has shown up just as the final stages of conversion were underway. (There may or may not be an even longer version of this essay but it's better done by someone with more professional biblical scholarship and possibly as a degree thesis.) (9) Sorry, Kiriona, but Paul is a lot less anagram-able than Sex Pal.

[shuicheese]

HAPPY NEW YEAR Y'ALL!! ✨🎉🎊 it's not new year for me YET so i wanna say some stuff !!

i won't really sugarcoat it but 2023 was a really bad year for me bhjfvjf nOT TO BE NEGATIVE ON MAIN BC GENUINELY THERE ARE A HANDFUL OF GOOD THINGS THAT HAPPENED ACTUALLY

mainly talking to my net friends again and "overcoming" one of my extreme af phobias (fear of a specific medical procedure),,,,twice. twice. idk HOW i did that???? i wouldn't even believe you if you told me i actually did it!

i reached out and tried to talk to a handful of old friends i still cherish a lot, ones i haven't talked to in a while, and tbh even tho i'm still shy and have a long way to go, it's better than feeling the intense guilt while being withdrawn- i said this last year, and the year before, but i do hope. my social issues will get better in 2024, even if it's small--

on a mildly personal ish note; one of my current goals is to be a bit nicer to myself when it comes to my art and,,,. hope this convention i'll attend on feb will go well. i also hope i can stand up for myself again, set boundaries even, and not let people take advantage of my kindness or take me for granted like this year,, OTL

kinda a small message to my friends + you, yes you- you're not immune hehehueheu; ILYSM!! AND I HOPE YOU KNOW THIS!! i'm personally proud of you for making it this far and even if your year wasn't good, i hope next year will be better!! you survived 2023 and that's already an achievement :DD you're awesome and i'm personally raising my pompoms for you!!

THINK THAT'S ABT IT!! I KNOW THIS IS SO SO SOOO SAPPYYYY BUT i'm thankful to still have my friends, to adopt my cattos, and tbh just try to keep going instead of "giving up". and aAAAHH THANK Y'ALL FOR YOUR PATIENCE WITH ME TBH QOQ!!

i hope 2024 will be a better year, even if it's a little bit! <3