#Especially now that his shard has been activated

[cranesofibycus]

some c3e89 reflections

Fully losing my mind over all the cast's theories they talk about in the ep89 cooldown. The city being a massive funnel for Ludinus to suck up Predathos? Liliana thinking she can prevent The Worst Outcome, while insisting that Ludinus has some undisclosed redeeming qualities? Ashley continuously questioning the existence of Predathos? I love it. And I particularly love all the conversations about the gods, their importance for the world, questioning Liliana's assessment of them as tyrants, and that you can live your whole life on Exandria without knowing more than the gods' names. I also found their discussion of who deserves to come to Exandria interesting. They didn't really get too far into it, but the idea of a stolen homeland and the need for some sort of "restoration" is definitely something I've been thinking about since they've met some of the Ruidus peoples - there are some colonial/native parallels shining through. And just in general, it's wholly fascinating that even now - on the moon - it seems like, other than Orym and FCG, none of the Hells are actually particularly convinced that saving the Gods is necessary and worthwhile. They know that Ludinus is bad news, but they aren't in it to save the divine. I like that this leads to great in- and out-of-character discussions, but it must be difficult for each of them to find their motivation to put it all on a line for a cause that they only circumstantially stumbled into.

[neversetyoufree]

Looking back, I wonder how much of Vanitas's choice in this scene is tied to the fact that he was given a choice in the first place.

So much of Vanitas's character is centered around the theme of self-determination (and the lack thereof). He is absolutely deprived of any control over his body and/or destiny at many of the key points in his life, and nowadays he's always desperately grasping at what few shards of self-determination he does have. This is why he freaks out when Roland talks about him being "under the vampires' power" in mémoire 15. It's why he's hung up on the idea of freedom as isolation from others' influence. It's why his main response to being triggered is to do something crazy and cause a scene; it puts him in control of the situation.

All that to say, when Luna destroys Moreau's lab and agrees to take Misha away, Vanitas must be desperate to feel some form of in-control, but I do not think he expects to be given any choice in what happens to him next. He's been conditioned not to expect that despite how much he wants it.

Vanitas certainly doesn't have much agency in how he lives his life as a child, as no kid gets to pick their parents or circumstances, and Vani has it especially rough with the death of his mother hanging over his head. Then his father dies protecting him, and he dies in a situation in which Vanitas is utterly powerless. Horror erupts into his life out of nowhere, and his dad throws himself in front of some fangs, and there's nothing Vanitas can do but watch it happen.

Next there's Vanitas's brief time training as a chasseur, which is one part of his history we know little about, so it's hard for me to say how free his choice was. He may have been pressured into joining, as we know the Chassuers aren't above pushy/manipulative recruitment of children (Astolfo), but I could also see his choice to hunt vampires made as a trauma response to the powerlessness of the vampire attack he survived. "I was powerless, so I'll claim the power to enact violence and make sure they can't hurt me or others again."

Then Vanitas is abducted by Doctor Moreau, which strips him of his agency just about as awfully as anything possibly could.

Vanitas the test subject has no bodily autonomy. He is poked and prodded and experimented on, because his body is an object of science to Moreau, not the vessel of a person with rights or self-determination. His only big active choices during his captivity are the choice to not run away for fear of somebody else suffering and the choice to volunteer in Mikhail's place. The only choices he can make are the choices to stay and throw himself even deeper into his own violation. Even his relationship with Misha is something that just kind of Happens to him. The kid is a force of nature that Moreau dumps on him without his say.

(This isn't Mikhail's fault, as Misha is just a child that wants affection, but having a needy, vulnerable little brother figure suddenly dropped on him in the midst of all that horror couldn't have made Vanitas feel less out of control).

Then Vanitas's torment by Moreau hits its climax, and Vanitas is told that not only has his body been violated by way of pain and torture—even his basic humanity has been and will be stripped from him. He now feels the disgust of having the blood of something he hates inside of him without his consent. And he's about to be killed, turned into a mindless husk of a "living key" instead of a person.

And that's when Luna shows up. This mysterious, incredibly powerful being appears and wreaks havoc on Moreau's lab like an avenging angel, and it agrees to Mikhail's request to take "us" along with it. Everything in Vanitas's life so far has taught him that he is powerless in the face of others' great power. Horrible shit just keeps happening to him forever, and this monstrous person sounds like they've just agreed to carry him off on Mikhail's request without a word of input from him. Of course he doesn't expect to be given a choice.

But he is.

Luna scoops up Mikhail, then they turn to Vanitas and ask if he would like to come along with them as well. After months or years of absolutely all of his autonomy and power being stripped away from him, the most powerful being Vanitas has ever encountered stops and gives him a choice about what he'd like to do next. They give him the option to go off on his own and decide his own fate rather than go along with them. And that's why Vanitas doesn't run away.

These are the images that flash through Vanitas's head right before he gets up and runs to Luna:

These moments are what inform Vanitas's choice. The memories of his father's death and Moreau's final experiment on him—his two most awful moments of abject helplessness.

When Vanitas runs to Luna and accepts their offer, these moments are what he's running from. He's fleeing from his inability to do anything or control his fate. He's running from a life of stolen agency. He's running toward the one adult who actually stopped and gave him a choice about what he'd like to do next.

Vanitas chooses Luna because they, despite having the power to kill or subdue him, give him the freedom to choose to accompany them in the first place. He's drawn to them not for protection, but as an escape to a life where he gets to keep making choices and grasp some agency.

Luna is the savior that gives Vanitas his freedom and autonomy back after it's stolen by Moreau. That's why it's so tragic that Vanitas carries their Mark in the present day. It's undeniable proof that, in their right mind or not, some version of Luna violated the fundamental trust and gift of autonomy that brought Vanitas into their family in the first place.

Luna's bite, both the physical violation and the transformation into inhumanity that it brings, is yet another way that Vanitas is stripped of all control of his body and fate.

[silvernightabyss]

At the dawn of the world

Yandere angel x Creator gn!reader

Your dear friend has decided that you could use a companion while you are busy creating your world. Would you be willing to accept his gift of a young angel?

It's just fluff.

word count: 1.8k

In the beginning was a void, viscous and black, but nevertheless soothing in its absence. No thoughts, emotions or feelings. At that moment he didn't even know such concepts, just existing. Or was he not existing at that moment? It was too hard to say, and it was even harder to capture the moment of his birth and self-awareness. One thing he remembered for sure was that a voice, which he would later learn was his Creator, had told him about their dear friend. They were still a very young Creator, recently beginning to create a world of their own. There were no living and intelligent beings in it yet, and his Creator decided to be concerned and give them a companion. So that they would not get bored and someone could take care of them. That was the meaning and purpose behind him. What he, at that moment still non-existent and nameless, had to be created for.

Gradually the world began to form a clearer picture around him, the knowledge itself appearing in his head. The names of colors he had never seen, the taste of dishes he had never eaten. Brick by brick, the house of his mind was being built slowly but surely. The emptiness was receding, taking with it a sense of weightlessness.

The waves came and receded, leaving pieces on the shore of his mind, from which he began to actively assemble himself. If he did not like a color, an opinion, a thought that was contained in a shard, he ruthlessly threw it away so that the sea could take it back. The most beautiful and suitable ones he put into a mosaic that would become his future self. During the whole process, his Creator watched carefully, sometimes gently suggesting how best to arrange the pieces. Finally, the last fragment took its place and he felt complete. It was a pleasant feeling.

The first physical sensation he realized was the wind playing with the feathers of his wings behind his back. Then the cool floor beneath the toes of his bare feet, the soft fabric of the toga slung over his left shoulder. Tentatively, he squeezed his hand and his short fingernails pressed into his palm. His eyelids felt unclimbable, but he was eager to see his surroundings and began to make more of an effort. He wondered if the colors he knew were as beautiful. After an eternity, and really only a few seconds, he succeeded. At first startled by the bright light he blinked quickly getting used to the illumination and immediately afterwards froze in admiration. Azure, aquamarine, sapphire, and many other colors filled his eyes.

“It would be wrong of me to give you a name, so wait a while. Now we'll reach the teleportation hall between worlds and you can meet them.”

He nods back, still unsure of how to speak; the pink muscle in his mouth felt more like a strange appendage than an actual body part, but he's getting more used to it by the seconds. His hair lay heavy on his back, and he ran his hand through it slowly, savoring the silky feel of it under his fingers. He hoped that the Creator for whom he had been created would like it as much as he did. The wings on the sides of his head moved on their own without him having any control over them. No matter how hard he tried, they just refused to obey. To summarize, everything was strange and almost a little too much; especially the amount of conscious effort he had to put into each step as he followed his Creator.

As soon as they passed through the portal, for a second it seemed to him that he was in the middle of a yellow sea. The tall flowers reaching to his hips stretched to the horizon in every direction. In the distance stood a two-story cottage surrounded by a white fence, its roof painted bright green. It looked like a place from a good fairy tale where everyone lived happily ever after. Looking up, he saw large fluffy clouds floating leisurely under the control of playful wind currents. The sight before his eyes was breathtaking, and goosebumps immediately appeared on his arms.

“Wait here a minute I'll get them, I want you to be the surprise.”

He obediently stood still. He could not find a name for the surrounding flowers in his library of knowledge, no matter how hard he tried. Was it your own personal design for your world? The petals of the flowers tapered at the tip to spread apart like a small snake's tongue. He squatted down and touched one of the stamens, and it was soft and fuzzy. The pollen sticking to the pads of his fingers made him curious to explore, and without thinking he licked it. The sweet flavor filled his mouth, there was some tartness to it, but it only added another level of yumminess.

With his keen senses, he heard footsteps approaching and jumped up immediately, but he tripped and almost fell face down into the ground, but managed to catch his balance. The wave of shame that swept over him could have washed a medium-sized city off the map. You hadn't even been introduced to each other yet, and he'd already made himself look like a clumsy angel who couldn't even handle his own limbs. And if you refuse to accept him? He shuddered at the thought, a cold sensation settling firmly in the bottom of his stomach.

As you approached, he began to devour your form in front of him with the greed of a man dying of thirst. His heart beat frantically in his chest, wanting to jump into your arms to stay with you forever. He nervously interlocked his hands in front of him and waited for any words you might say. He was sure that your voice would be more beautiful than the trills of any bird.

“Ta da. I know how busy you are with creating the world, so I made an angel especially for you so you'd have a helper and not be lonely.” Your friend winked playfully at you. “You can call him whatever you want. He doesn't have a name yet.”

You looked him from head to toe, and he had a hard time suppressing the urge to make sure his clothes and hair were all right. He was touching flowers. What if the pollen was still on him and lurking somewhere on his face? How careless of him, he should have known better and not touched it at all. You'll definitely reject him now. He bit his lip, trying to hold back his feelings and not burst into tears in front of you. He didn't want to make himself look like an even more incompetent fool in front of you for not even being able to contain his feelings.

“He's cute. I like him. But you know how bad I am with naming.” You sighed. “Okay, I'll think of something.”

Relief so intense pierced him that he almost fainted. You called him sweet! A blush spread across his cheeks and even reached his ears. Now you were going to give him a name. He was sure to remember this day for the rest of his eternity. He tried desperately not to squirm in spot under your gaze. His snow-white wings were folded slightly behind his back. The ones on his head were pressed tightly against his ears, showing his nervousness.

Your lips moved silently mouthing the possible options, until finally loud and clear you said:

“Irin.”

You gave him a name. That meant you were willing to accept him, right? Didn't it? Irin promised himself that he would cherish the name you gave him like the apple of his eye. Irin. How lovely and sweet it sounded; it was as if you'd captured his essence in four simple letters. With metaphorical stars in his eyes, he looked at you with his hands clasped tightly to his chest.

“Okay I realize I'm the third wheel here, I'll come back later. Bye bye.” Your friend smirked and shook his head, then quickly disappeared into the vortex of the portal.

Now it was just the two of you in the middle of the flower field. Irin opened his dry lips with difficulty, and allowed himself to speak to you.

“I… I am honored to have been created to serve you. You are more beautiful and magnificent than I ever dared to imagine. If there is anything about me that you do not like, I will gladly change it until it satisfies your tastes. The purpose of my existence is to serve you. Please use me as you wish.” Irin spat out his entire monologue in one breath and immediately bowed, waiting for your reaction.

I wasn't too furious, was I? Should I have spoken slower? I definitely should have. Another mistake. I would never be able to look them in the eye again. Reacting to his feelings, the wings near his head fluttered, making small flapping motions. Your fingers on his chin came as a big surprise. Gently but insistently, you lifted his face upwards. Irin felt like a boiled crawfish, so red he managed to become by the feel of it. His face was burning, and the heat spread even to his chest.

“Stop being so nervous, handsome. I promise I won't bite. Unless you ask me to.” You winked at him. “What do you say we walk over to that pretty cottage not far away now? I'll make you a cup of tea and we can discuss all the matters that concern you and me.”

'Handsome' echoed in his ears as he nodded silently in response. Bite? Your teeth press against his flesh, increasing the pressure with each passing second. The marks that appear afterward on his skin. Irin exhaled slightly dreamily. You could bite him as many times as you wanted. In fact, he'd want you to do it. Take him and squeeze him as tightly as you need to. He would gladly put his flesh under the sharp tips of your fangs.

The idea that he was worthy of drinking tea personally made by you left his eyes moist. What a good god you were to put so much effort into it for him. Irin promised himself that he would savor every drop, making sure to savor the taste in his mouth. Questions? Yes, perhaps he did have a few.

You wrapped your arm around his wrist and pulled him toward the cottage. The yellow sea parted obediently in front of you both, making steps light and carefree. Irin stared at your back in front of him, happiness like champagne bubbles rising from the soles of his feet to his heart. The sun's rays warmed his top and the surface of his wings and he felt as if he was covered in a soft, fluffy blanket. At that moment, he made a wish to be with you forever. After all, today was his birthday, and everyone knows that wishes made on such a day always come true. Nothing he could have wished for more.

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

[davie-bullck]

So I finished Wind and Truth. Major spoilers for the cosmere.

Well, that went both so much better and so much worse than I ever could’ve expected. Not the quality of the writing or the story itself, those were so so so good.

The only prediction I made that came true was Herald Kaladin. I don’t think I ever posted about it but I have been preaching that gospel since Jezrien died. My favorite guy is immortal now!! So hopefully he’ll be around until the Cosmere comes to a close. And good lord Brandon did him so right. It’s a shame he didn’t get to spread therapy to the physical realm on Roshar very much but he’s putting those skills to extremely good use.

I never liked Szeth until this book. I love the direction he’s going in, especially the direction him and Nightblood are going. I AM NOT A THING. No talking sword has ever made me cry so much.

I never vibed with the theories that Gavinor would be Odium’s champion but I thought it was incredibly well done and I’m very excited to see what comes of him in the back half.

Rlainarin is everything I could’ve hoped for, and seeing Brandon’s growth as a writer in his representation of queer and neurodivergent characters has been so rewarding! I also love that Rlain has been given such a relevant role as Bridger of Minds. I was worried he might just become Renarin’s bf and not much more.

Adolin and Maya’s arc was so much more than I could’ve hoped for, I love the Unoathed, and hit fighting the thunderclast was one of my favorite action scenes in the cosmere.

I’m so glad Vasher is sticking around on Roshar AND training Lift??? I love Lift and can’t wait for her book in the back half.

I caught on to the Auxiliary “twist” as soon as he started calling Szeth his squire. I’m glad we got to see the beginning of Sigzil’s transition to Nomad. I’m not sure if I would recommend people reading Sunlit Man between Row and WaT or after, but I was glad I’d read Sunlit Man already. I love Sigzil so so much and really hope we get more of him than just Sunlit Man, fortunately the time dilation thing allows him time to travel the cosmere as Nomad then Zellion and still possibly come back for the back half!

Retribution, the perfect direction for this midpoint in the series. Taravangian wielding two shards that can work well together is such a huge insane threat and I can’t wait to see how the world responds to him.

Although they took a bit of a back seat I was very excited by where the Listeners ended up.

Dalinar. Good LORD Dalinar. If Kaladin didn’t exist he would easily be my favorite character, and as devastating as his death is, I’m so incredibly proud of him and his journey. Given what he was up against, he absolutely made the right decision, forcing the other shards into action. I LOOOOOOOVED him showing Honor that it’s not all about sticking to oaths, showing the power what it could be even in a dire moment like that.

The cosmere fandom is one of the only ones I actively engage with, due in no small part to the morality of its flagship series (I know I know, Mistborn’s cool too)

This is my favorite book series, I will love it until the day I die. I’m sad that there won’t be a new one for a couple years but it’s genuinely something that makes me want to be healthier so I live long enough to see the conclusion. The immortal words are etched into my heart and I will continue to do my best to live by them.

Life before death. Strength before weakness. Journey before destination.

[serafilms]

song 19! ballad of a homeschooled girl (olivia rodrigo) + percy jackson (ok i love this??? i support loser percy x loser reader) requested by anon (2023 spotify wrapped event)

i broke a glass, i tripped and fell, i told secrets i shouldn’t tell

The party at the pavilion is already in full swing by the time you’re walking up. A bump in the grass catches on your foot.

“Fuck!”

You open your eyes and look around. Nobody saw. Thank the gods.

You don’t mind socialising, you really don’t. You’re fine during arts and crafts and kayaking (activities which you do with your cabin), and at meals (where you sit with your cabin), and when everyone’s chatting before bedtime (okay, so maybe you only really know how to talk to your siblings at this camp, but it’s fine).

But something about a party especially just sets you on edge. You can’t even remember what it’s supposed to be for, but you know that some of the Apollo cabin organised it, and that the whole camp is to be in attendance. Honestly, you’re not sure why. Something about being able to stay up past curfew and having an excuse to use their giant speakers and smuggled drinks?

Whatever. Just need to get through tonight, you grumble to yourself.

You pick up a glass and fill it with something from a big jug on the nearest table before taking a sip. Pepsi. Okay, maybe this party won’t be terrible.

Spoken too soon. Just as you turn away from the table, you collide with someone else and your glass slips out of your hand and smashes onto the floor. There is silence for a minute as you both stare at its broken shards.

Then, you look up, and Percy Jackson is right in front of you.

“Oh my gods, I— sorry, uh, I didn’t— um…” Your cheeks burn and your shoulders sag as you hang your head. “…hey Percy.”

His ears look suspiciously red as he glances between the broken glass on the floor and your face.

“Hi Y/N,” His voice cracks a little and he quickly clears his throat. “Hang on, let me just—“

A wave of his hand pulls some water out of another jug and he drags it along the floor, gathering up the mess and carrying it over to the nearest trashcan. The table is now one refreshment short, but at least the ground is safe to walk on again.

You don’t really know what to say now. You decide on, “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

There’s another pause. He speaks up again, “So, um, do you like the party so far?”

His ears are still red and he’s standing there and looking at you and you can tell he has no intention of going anywhere else so you flush and do the only thing you can think of: ramble.

“Um, well, I just got here but honestly it hasn’t been great so far,” you say, fingers wringing around each other, “I mean, like, the music is good and the decorations are nice but I’ve been here, like, a total of five minutes and I’ve already tripped once and broken a glass in front of the guy I like, so— wait.”

Well. You hadn’t meant to say that. As if it was possible, you feel your face heat up even more. Oh gods, you’re on the verge of sweating.

Percy’s face is a blanket of shock. “Wait, do you like me?”

Yep, you’re definitely sweating.

“Uh, well. You see—“

His eyes are wide and his ears are red as he leans forward to anticipate your answer. There’s one more awkward silence, lasting just about three seconds before you make your decision. You turn on your heel and sprint away.

“Wait, Y/N!”

[sickficideas]

gotta hear me out || sick Akutagawa w/ caretaker Atsushi - chapter 1 of 3

ao3! 5.5k/??? - please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! sicktember 2024, day 30: past prompt (2022, day 27: sleepless night)

Atsushi is on edge.

Breaking into anyone’s apartment is a nerve-wracking activity, and especially when Atsushi is doing so in an apartment that belongs to the Port Mafia’s so-called Hell Hound, without his knowledge. He wonders why Dazai couldn't have just done this himself, if it's really just a wellness check, like he says.

Initially, he was tempted to take the easy way out. He still has the phone number of the blonde woman he works with - Higuchi - and calling her to ask if he's still alive probably would have been the easiest way to go about this, but he's not sure involving other people is a good idea, especially if Dazai really is concerned about his well-being. All Atsushi has heard about the situation is that Dazai hasn’t heard from him in over a week, and there's a storm on the horizon too from a hurricane that's battering the shore of a nearby city. He’s just asked Atsushi to make sure he isn’t dead in his apartment before the storm comes in.

Miraculously, he's made it inside without tripping off any sort of alarm, at least not to his knowledge. The lock was easy enough to pick.

Now the hard part. Finding Akutagawa in the apartment without getting killed first.

Akutagawa's apartment is fairly large. It looks about as fancy and regal as he would expect of him, complete with taller-than-average ceilings and bookshelves filled with leather-back and gold foil editions making it look way more expensive than necessary. The decorations outside of the book shelving are minimal, like he hasn't been living here long at all.

The view from the tall, floor-to-ceiling windows is nice, he imagines, if the near-blackout curtains weren’t covering the windows. It’s a fairly high penthouse overlooking the city of Yokohama. He’s not sure why Akutagawa would want it covered. This is the kind of view he imagines tourists would pay money to see.

He wanders over to the window, out of curiosity. Even if Akutagawa realizes he’s here before Atsushi finds him, he won’t kill him. He promised not to.

Atsushi pulled back the curtain far enough to let some light in. He’s forgotten it’s storming outside, and the sky is a splotchy gray and black, spilling rain out onto the port city for the last few hours. His hair is still a little damp from his walk over here as proof. Still, it’s better than sitting in near darkness. He pulls the blinds open all the way, illuminating the entire living room, and revealing a figure standing in the doorway of a room just past the couch.

Akutagawa.

Akutagawa stands there, a cardigan wrapped defensively around himself, several long shards of fabric floating over his shoulders. Atsushi figured he wouldn’t be happy to see him no matter which way he approached this, but at least this way, he wouldn’t have been able to barricade himself in.

He looks absolutely terrible, though. His hair is completely unkempt, stuck up in all sorts of directions like he just woke up, and his skin is awfully pale. He’s certainly sick, Atsushi concludes, but not sick enough to not threaten Atsushi, it seems.

Akutagawa doesn’t need to approach him, the fabric of his cardigan pinning Atsushi’s back against the window, and not allowing him to come any further.

“I have no reservations against throwing you out of that window,” Akutagawa mumbles, his voice hoarse like he hasn’t used it in days, or it’s been damaged from several hours of coughing. Either way, it hurts Atsushi to listen to. His eyes squint, trying to adjust to the light.

“I’d definitely die if I fell from this height,” Atsushi reminds him, his shoulders tensing up at the roaring thunder overhead.

“You’ll find a way to survive. You roach,” he hisses, turning his head and coughing into his hands a few times, and the fabric holding Atsushi against the wall even loosens. Painful, Atsushi thinks, worse than usual. He’s not well, that’s for sure.

“That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to try to kill me, Akutagawa,” Atsushi reminds him, but Akutagawa knows that. He said himself that he keeps his promises, and truly has no intention of killing him. That being said, he’s certainly not thrilled to see Atsushi uninvited in his apartment.

“What do you want?” Akutagawa growls at him, the fabric now at his neck, evidently not happy with the condescending tone he’s being spoken to with.

“Dazai told me to check on you,” Atsushi stammers, his tiger paws up at the side of his head, eyes crossing and making his head hurt as they stare down the shards of fabric aimed at his neck.

“Dazai…” Akutagawa mumbles, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Dazai told you…”

The fabric shards at Atsushi’s neck starts to fall as the tension leaves Akutagawa’s shoulders. For a second, maybe he accepts the reason, but Atsushi thinks it's because he's about to pass out. And he's right. Akutagawa doesn't even make it a few seconds before his eyes roll back, and he loses control of all of the muscles in his body - falling forward face first.

The thunder rumbles overhead once again, but this time, Atsushi ignores it in favor of rushing over to the unconscious body on the living room carpet.

Atsushi kneels beside Akutagawa, who twitches in some unconscious attempt to wake himself up. Atsushi is tempted to just pick him up and put him on the couch here, but just because Akutagawa made a vow not to kill him, doesn’t mean he won’t hurt him. Maybe he just slow down here first.

Should he contact Dazai? Akutagawa clearly isn’t in shape enough to look after himself, and really, Atsushi was only told to make sure he was alive. Maybe he can contact someone Akutagawa works with to come look after him, but does he trust anyone to do something like that?

No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t trust anyone, so really, Atsushi taking care of this situation is no different than anyone else doing so.

Atsushi lays a hand on Akuatagwa’s upper arm, but he tenses up at the touch. He’s not unconscious anymore, at least.

“Leave,” Akutagawa croaks. That sudden burst of energy to attempt to kill Atsushi must have been all that he had left in him, because he makes no other attempts even shoo Atsushi away from him. His voice really sounds awful, and he coughs a few times into the carpet, not having the breath force them back. Atsushi takes that moment of weakness to scoop him off of the floor and to the couch, at the very least, which he doesn;t bother fighting against.

“You look like shit, Akutagawa,” Atsushi tells him, genuinely concerned when he gets a better look at him. The circles under his eyes are too dark to suggest he’s slept at all in the past several days, and Atsushi is even concerned that he’s lost weight with how his cheekbones jut out even more than usual. “How long have you been sick for?”

“Don’t talk to me,” Akutagawa groans, bringing up his arm to cover his face, painfully aware of how Atsushi is studying it.

“Don't you live with your sister? Where is she?” Atsushi asks. He doesn’t see any sign of her having been around, but he’s hoping he’s wrong.

“I don't know,” he barely manages, “haven't heard from her.”

“What do you mean?” Atsushi asks.

“She’s working,” Akutagawa murmurs as Atsushi tries to sneak a hand onto his forehead to get a general read of his temperature. Not awful, but definitely a fever, he realizes. He wonders how long he’s been like this.

Atsushi’s not aware enough of the inner workings of the mafia to know if that means they should be concerned about his sister or not, but Akutagawa doesn’t seem too concerned - maybe it’s normal, then. He can’t imagine he would go out of his way to concern his sister about his well-being either, though.

Atsushi sits back on the coffee table, peering out of Akutagawa’s high-rise view for just a moment, deciding on how he should proceed. He thinks he should stay. Clearly, Akutagawa is not capable of caring for himself, whatever it is that’s plaguing him. He wonders if Dazai was hoping for this outcome.

“You need a shower,” Atsushi tells him. Akutagawa is still covering his face. He knows Akutagawa generally doesn’t wash himself as often as he should, and he can tell just by his hair that he hasn’t showered in a while - he’s sure it would help him feel better regardless.

“No,” Akutagawa huffs.

“Don't no me,” Atsushi groans. “How long have you been here for, by yourself? Do I even wanna know?”

“I’d imagine not,” Akutagawa grumbles. “What’s the date?”

“The twenty-fifth,” Atsushi tells him.

Akutagawa groans, and it’s answer enough that Atsushi probably does not want to know how long he’s been alone for. That’s fine, as long as he’s compliant enough to let someone else look after him.

Atsushi realizes he’s already made that decision for himself, then.

Akutagawa tries to sit himself up, but the effort is too much pressure on his lungs, it seems. He’s propped up on an elbow and coughing so hard into his hand he nearly gags. Atsushi is hesitant to reach out a hand on his back to give him some comfort, he’s never sure how Akutagawa will react to that sort of thing, but he doesn’t fight it. Atsushi tries to be careful, gentle, not cross too many lines.

There’s no blood, though, when he lowers his hand. That’s a good sign, maybe it’s not too serious, then.

Akutagawa manages to pull himself up and off the couch, but clearly without enough strength to stand on his own without a hand supporting him on the end of the couch. He’s hesitant to walk forward.  Atsushi stands and walks beside him, taking his arm and surprised to see no bite back from him. He leads him back to his bedroom, where evidently, he’s been spending the past several days.

“Why are you here?” Akutagawa murmurs quietly, whisking his arm away once he makes it to the bed. The curtains in his bedroom are closed too, lights off, dark aside from the light spilling in through the open door. There’s pillows on the floor and sheets strewn across the bed. There’s a trash bin over near the left side of the bed. Atsushi’s sure that’s a sign he’s been sick to his stomach, too.

“I told you already,” Atsushi murmurs. Akutagawa sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over his chest.

“You've confirmed I haven't bit the dust, so leave,” he mumbles, averting his eyes from Atsushi. “Tell Dazai to mind his own business.”

“You’re sick,” Atsushi reminds him.

“I’m always sick,” Akutagawa huffs.

“Okay, but not like this. You have a fever,” Atsushi reminds him, planting his hands on his hips. “And you just passed out a minute ago. You can’t walk by yourself.”

“And why does that matter to you? It should -” he coughs into his hand, scooting further back on the bed and crossing his legs, “it should make no difference to you. I’m not your friend. I’ve been ill before and I don’t need anyone’s help.”

“I’m not gonna let you suffer by yourself, though,” Atsushi tells him. He couldn’t really give him a further explanation why, he just thinks that he should take this opportunity now to look after him for a little bit if he can. He’s sure no one else would be able to sneak into his apartment and leave alive, other than his sister.

Akutagawa’s eyes trace the folds in the sheets underneath him, studying anything but the figure in front of them, probably hoping that if he doesn’t look, Atsushi will go away. Unfortunately for him, he’s just as stubborn - if not worse.

“Have you taken anything? Medicine? Water?” Atsushi asks, tilting his head to the side, trying to force eye contact.

“Leave me alone, Weretiger,” Akutagawa groans, throwing himself onto the bed and pulling the sheets over his thin form as he curls on his side, but Atsushi won’t take that for an answer. He walks over to the side of the bed, sits on it, and pulls the sheet up to look at Akutagawa’s face.

He glares up at him, trying to pull the sheet back over his face, but he’s too weak right now to win the fight. He’s almost pouting.

“Answer me,” Atsushi tells him.

“I can’t - I can’t keep anything down,” Akutagawa admits in a low grumble, He sounds like a child. Atsushi sighs.

“Since how long?” Atsushi asks him.

“I don’t know. I haven’t been keeping track,” Akutagawa huffs, and Atsushi lets go of the sheet, letting it fall back over his face. That confirms that he’s been throwing up then, which adds a whole new angle to his problems. He can’t take any medicine, drink water or eat - he probably needs to see a doctor, but Atsushi has to take this one thing at a time.

Akutagawa coughs under the sheets, curling in on himself, and Atsushi watches his frame shiver underneath. His eyes catch a few spots of blood on the comforter and the sheets underneath, even parts of the pillows - some larger, some smaller, but all in the same relative shape. It looks like a print, almost - some of it is older and some of it fresher, like it’s from this morning - it’s from an injury.

Atsushi realizes there’s many more problems here than he was expecting. He’s just going to have to tackle each thing one by one. Taking Akutagawa to a legally practicing doctor or hospital is simply not an option - not that he would even allow for that, anyway.

“I’m gonna start a shower for you. I’ll be back in a minute,” Atsushi tells him. That’s a good place to start. He can check him for injuries without physically prying the information out of him. Keeping the water lukewarm might help lower his fever too, and he’s sure feeling clean will help him feel better. He looks like he hasn’t showered in weeks.

“Not a shower,” Akutagawa grumbles from under the sheets.

“Okay, a bath then,” Atsushi insists as he wanders into Akutagawa’s bathroom. It won’t get him as clean as a shower would, but it’s better than nothing.

Another culture shock he experiences as he enters Akutagawa’s master bathroom - it’s larger than Atsushi’s entire bedroom, he’s almost certain of it. Long, marble counters and more sinks  than he needs, a walk-in shower and a separate bathtub. He was almost expecting a chandelier on the ceiling when he looked up. The ceiling is certainly tall enough for one.

He starts running the water after deciding on a temperature, not too warm but not cold enough to make him feel worse, surprised at how quickly he gets warm water from the faucet. There’s little jets in there too, like some kind of jacuzzi - Atsushi decides to get those running at a low setting too. He adds some body soap at the end of the tub to simulate a bubble bath - he’s sure Akutagawa isn’t that kind of guy, but if it were his own bath, he’d want that.

He finds towels in one of the cabinets - thick, fluffy, more expensive than Atsushi wants to know, probably, and sets them on the side of the tub.

Atsushi wanders back into Akutagawa’s bedroom, where the latter is sitting at the end of his bed, facing Atsushi, to his surprise. He thought he was going to have to drag him out with his teeth.

“The bath is ready,” Atsushi tells him, standing in the doorway. Akutagawa squints at the light coming in from the bathroom. He realizes he’s going to have to help Akutagawa through this, he likely doesn’t have the energy to bathe himself at all - Atsushi is fine with that, but he’s not sure Akutagawa is.

“I don’t want your help,” Akutagawa mumbles to himself.

“You passed out earlier, when you tried to throw me out your window,” Atsushi reminds him. He’s not sure he’ll make the walk over, let alone wash his own hair.

“I did not attempt such a thing. Separate actions from threats,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” Atsushi huffs, “c’mon.”

Akutagawa looks at him for a second, and then dips his head away in shame.

Atsushi's heart sinks. Of course he’s not thrilled about this. Taking off his clothes would leave him completely defenseless, and even though Atsushi truly means no harm in this moment, he can’t know Akutagawa’s inner thoughts. He’s surprised to see him so defeated. He thinks it’s telling of how he’s feeling if he’s not putting up much of a fight.

“Here. I have an idea. We can do them separately,” Atsushi suggests.

Akutagawa's head lifts.

“Undress, but, you can keep something on your head, like…a towel or a hair cap or something so you can still use your ability if you need to. And then, we can wash your hair after you're done with the bath,” Atsushi suggests enthusiastically. He thinks it's a good idea, but Akutagawa makes a face at him, like he thinks it's ridiculous. “That…that’d work, right?”

“Technically…yes,” Akutagawa mumbles, “only you would come up with something like that.”

“Well, you got a better idea?” Atsushi huffs, his cheeks heating up, a little embarrassed.

“Help me into the bathroom and let me undress privately,” Akutagawa says, more of a demand, really, but Atsushi is in no position to refuse him. It’s either this or nothing.

Atsushi frowns, though, because this will make it a lot harder to see if he’s injured somewhere. “You know I don’t care if I see - “

“Please.”

Atsushi shrinks a little. It’s a desperate plea. Atsushi can’t place the look in his eyes.

“Okay, fine,” Atsushi tells him, “but you have to show me where you’re injured. I see the blood on your sheets.”

“You’ll see the wound,” Akutagawa insists, standing off the bed with Atsushi’s support as he takes his arm, “it’s on my shoulder.”

Atsushi makes sure he’s a little more careful taking his arm then, walking him into the bathroom. Atsushi realizes now just how dizzy he is, how weak his legs are. He can’t easily walk without help. He suspects that he used his ability to keep himself stable when he first arrived here, but he’s not doing that now, Atsushi taking that place instead.

Atsushi sits him down at the little step beside the tub and Atsushi reluctantly walks back in the bedroom, closing the door. It takes Akutagawa a little longer than Atsushi would expect to undress. He’s not sure if he’s just slower than he expected, even with how weak he is right now, or maybe he’s just working up the nerve to take his clothes off. Atsushi vaguely remembers his aversion to bathing or taking off his clothes - he’s sure there’s good reason for him to do that, but he’s not sure he’s in any position to ask why.

“Ready yet?” Atsushi asks, just barely opening the door.

“Yes,” he answers quietly, far enough to sound like he’s already in the tub.

His hair is covered in a towel, turned away when Atsushi walks in, facing the frosted windows. Atsushi approaches, sitting on the step beside the tub, seeing the wound on his shoulder right away.

It’s open, but it’s been there for several days, over a week. It starts just over his collarbone and ends at his shoulder blade - a good, clean cut, though he’s not sure what could have caused this.

Atsushi’s hand gently lands beside it, moving his skin to the side to get a feeling of how deep it is, and it’s deeper than it looks.

His skin is so hot, he realizes too. Atsushi should really get a reading on his temperature, but it can’t be as high as it feels it is, because he’s still coherent. Then again, Atsushi has seen him with high fevers before, and been relatively impressed with how sound he was in those moments.

Right now, though, the injury on his shoulder is what needs attention first. He’s surprised Akutagawa even managed to get injured on this part of his body - he tends to protect himself pretty well, it’s usually his limbs that end up taking hits he can’t avoid, so it makes him wonder if he was dealing with this illness before he was injured.

“That looks really bad, Akutagawa,” Atsushi mumbles. He’s sure it’s infected, as has been for several days, and it still bleeds every now and then too, the dried blood covering his shoulder. It makes him a little nauseous to look at. “I think I need to clean that before we do anything.”

“Do as you wish,” Akutagawa murmurs with a quiet sigh. He’s given up fighting back, finally, but it’s a little sad to see him so dejected.

“Where do you keep that kind of stuff?” Atsushi asks, hoping he has anything for it at all, but he’s sure that he does.

“There’s disinfectant in the cabinet under the sink,” Akutagawa tells him.

Atsushi fetches it quickly, taking some cotton rounds from the counter to gently dab it with. He’s not sure how much this will help, he never really has to treat injuries like this, but it’s better than nothing.

He’s as careful as he can be, dripping the disinfectant onto the cotton rounds and gently dabbing it on the edges of the wound first. Akutagawa’s still stiff. He can’t see much of him through the bubbles, but can gather that his knees are at his chest, arms wrapped around them defensively. He was hoping he’s relax a little bit, that maybe the jets would help him do that, but he’s too tense. He’s so defensive that he hardly reacts to the disinfectant on his wound, which should surely burn, or sting at the very least.

“Does it hurt?” Atsushi asks, moving in more towards the center, trying to clean off some of the blood and what looks like pus forming in the middle.

“No, it’s fine,” Akutagawa says quietly.

“When was the last time you took any medicine? For your fever, or anything?” Atsushi asks him, finishing up cleaning the wound.

“A few days ago,” Akutagawa answers, not seeming to have an exact answer for him. Getting him to take any medication is probably not going to happen, but Atsushi thinks he would honestly prioritize getting him to eat something or drink some water. He’ll make that his next objective.

Atsushi takes a washcloth and cleans the blood around the wound, discarding that and using another to scrub his arms, which he surprisingly allows. He tenses up quite a bit when Atsushi reaches his hand, holding gently and scrubbing between his fingers. He’s got nice hands, he thinks, his cheeks reddening at the sudden random thought.

“You can take the towel off,” Akutagawa murmurs feverishly. 

“You…you sure?” Atsushi asks. He’s surprised to hear that from him unprompted.

Akutagawa just nods his head once.

Atsushi unwraps the towel, gently tossing it to the side.

He hands Akutagawa a washcloth, urging him to scrub himself where he can while Atsushi works on washing his hair, which could certainly use some work. It’s greasy but stiff from dried sweat, too, and he’s certain he sees dried blood in certain parts, too, especially in the white tips on the side where his wound is.

He takes a cup that he’d grabbed from the sink when preparing the bath, fills it with water and gently pours it over Akutagawa’s hair, tilting his head to avoid the water dripping into his wound, saturating his hair with water with just a few pours.

He starts to work the shampoo into his hair with both hands, down to the roots, making sure his hair will clean up as good as possible. Akutagawa even relaxes a bit when Atsushi massages his scalp. He’s sure it feels nice.

“It’s starting to feel cold,” Akutagawa says through a shiver.

“Okay, yeah, it wasn’t super warm to begin with,” Atsushi remembers as he starts to rinse the shampoo out of his hair. He’d really like him to rinse off in the shower, but that seemed to have been a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross, and he’s lucky he got him this far anyway. He’s not coughing a much anymore, that’s a good sign.

“Can you bring me a change of clothes?” Akutagawa asks.

“Oh - yeah, sure. Just something comfortable? To sleep in?” Atsushi asks.

“That’s fine.”

Atsushi walks out and heads for the door in Akutagawa’s bedroom that he assumes is his closet - another room far larger than necessary, but with not much filling it. He doesn’t really have many clothes at all, so Atsushi doesn’t have a hard time deciding.

He takes an oversized t-shirt, and a sweater, in case he prefers one over the other, a pair of boxers and sweatpants. Both tops have low necklines, so Atsushi can easily peak at his wound. He thinks that needs to be covered for a while to avoid the blood seeping through.

He opens the door back into the bathroom, catching Akutagawa off guard, it seems - he’s already out of the tub, standing on the bathmat outside of it, scrambling to cover himself with a towel.

“Just leave them here. Let me change privately,” he requests, eyes averted from Atsushi. He’s embarrassed. Atsushi respects his wishes, though, and steps back outside of the bathroom to let him change.

Atsushi leans against the door, waiting on a signal from Akutagawa, hoping he can dress himself without falling over. Really, Atsushi wouldn’t mind helping. He almost wonders if he can dress himself easily with his ability, but maybe he’s avoiding doing that to conserve energy.

He hears him fall, though.

Atsushi rushes in, wanting to respect his privacy but also wanting to make sure that he’s safe, too. Akutagawa’s already trying to get himself back up when Atsushi opens the door, clothed, but pressing a hand up to his head. He decided on the sweatshirt, the t-shirt still lying on the floor.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles as Atsushi kneels next to him, worried he hit his head, “just dizzy.”

“Stay there. There’s an outlet right here, I’ll dry your hair,” Atsushi insists, standing and heading for the cabinet where he saw the hair dryer earlier.

Akutagawa leans against the side of the tub, eyes shut and in clear discomfort, head leaning back. He attempted to dry his hair, Atsushi thinks, but having his arms over his head to do the job was too much for him. It’s still fairly wet, dripping onto the hem of his sweater.

Atsushi takes a dry washcloth, tucking it underneath Akutagawa’s sweater and over the wound, deciding he’ll work on covering that later, but he needs to get his hair dry first. He towel dries it the best he can, as gently as possible to avoid jostling his sensitive head around, before he flips the switch on the hair dryer.

Akutagawa coughs a few times, covering his mouth. Atsushi reaches over to lay a hand against his neck, trying to get a feel for his temperature to see if it changed after the bath, but he still feels warm - in fact, Akutagawa even shivers a bit at the touch, and Atsushi knows he generally runs warm.

Akutagawa’s hair is thinner than it looks, and doesn't take long to try. Atsushi makes sure to not leave any of it damp, running his hands through it to make sure he didn't miss a single strand of hair.

Atsushi unplugs the hair dryer and puts it back where he found it before coming back to pull the drain up for the bath water, and he's surprised at how docile Akutagawa is being. He doesn't really move at all, just turning so that he's leaning against the tub again, not making any effort to stand up.

He's more deflated, really like he's given up. Atsushi is glad he's being compliant, but it's a little sad to see him like this.

“Where can I find something to bandage that wound?” Atsushi asks him, and Akutagawa just uses a hand to vaguely gesture at the cabinet where he found the disinfectant.

Atsushi gathers a few things - an antibiotic ointment he finds, a non-adherent pad and two large bandages to lay over each other and make sure the whole thing is covered. He kneels down beside Akutagawa's wounded shoulder and pulls the neckline of his sweater down, removing the washcloth he'd left over the wound. Akutagawa tenses up as he peels it off, stuck in a few places from the blood, but thankfully it's not bleeding much.

“Sorry,” Atsushi says, laying the washcloth off to the side.

“It's fine,” Akutagawa tells him. He sounds like he's getting really tired, and Atsushi realizes he can see it in his eyes, too. He'll get him to bed once they're done here.

Atsushi dresses the wound the best he can. It's not something he's used to doing at all. His own wounds usually heal up fast enough for him to just tough through them and hope for the best, but he imagines Akutagawa's body heals even slower than the average person with how sick he is.

His stomach twists, trying to keep that out of his head. He's not dying now. He'll be okay. Atsushi will take care of him and he'll be fine.

He finishes up, surprised with how still Akutagawa stayed throughout the whole process of Atsushi figuring out the angles of the bandages and such, but he realizes that his eyes are shut, his head leaned against the tub.

Atsushi stands up, picking up the ointment and trash to dispose if everything properly, and Akutagawa tries to follow - using the tub as support to stand himself up.

“Wait, stay here, alright? I'll go change your sheets. I think I saw backups in your closet.”

“You don't need to do that,” he mumbles.

“What?” Atsushi teases, already out of the bathroom. He's pretty fast at changing sheets but Akutagawa's western-style king size mattress proves a bit of a challenge for him. He just hopes that he's fast enough to get back to Akutagawa in time to make sure he doesn't fall again.

But of course, Akutagawa has already tried to walk back. He's leaned against the tub, very clearly struggling to keep himself standing. He's paler than before. Clearly it's taking far too much effort for him to even just stand there.

“I can help you, you know. There's no reason to force yourself to walk if you can't do it,” Atsushi huffs.

“I won't let you carry me,” he growls, all of a sudden deciding he doesn't want any help - even after Atsushi helped him walk in here to begin with. He knows Akutagawa hates to have anyone help him with anything, but maybe he’s just trying to save face right now.

“I don't need to carry you,” Atsushi tells him. “We’ll just do what we did the way in here, okay?”

Akutagawa refuses eye contact, but his shoulders sink in defeat, realizing he can’t do it himself.

Atsushi helps him back to his bed, and this time, it take shim longer. Atsushi is well aware of how dizzy he is. He’s not sure if that’s due to his fever, a head injury, headache or something else, but right now it’s pretty bad. He must be sore, too.

Akutagawa closes his eyes as soon as he’s laying on his back, not entirely to go to sleep, it seems, because he sighs like he’s just experienced too tough of an ordeal. Atsushi almost wants to smile. He knows he’s pretty sick, but he seems more exhausted by something as simple as taking a bath than he was after any of the near-death fights he’s experienced.

“Feeling clean helps, right?” Atsushi asks. Akutagawa looks strangely peaceful, lying there like that, his clean, fluffy hair falling against the pillow, his eyes still closed. Maybe he is falling asleep. He coughs a few times, and lays a hand on his chest. Atsushi wonders if it hurts, but thankfully, the coughing doesn’t continue.

Akutagawa just nods. He’s surprised to see him admit it, but he thinks that’s a far as he’ll go.

“I forgot, I wanted to take your temperature…” Atsushi remembers, turning back towards the bathroom, figuring it’s probably in one of the many drawers there.

“Are you staying?” Akutagawa suddenly asks. He sounds half asleep, like he didn’t hear Atsushi’s mumbling at all. His eyelids part just enough to look at Atsushi’s form.

“Yeah, I'll stay,” Atsushi tells him. He’s not sure what to make of this. Does he want him to stay? Is he asking him to leave? He can’t do that, he’s still very clearly sick and that injury needs to be regularly tended to. But if he wants him to stay - can he even know that Atsushi just genuinely wants to help him? “Dazai - Dazai asked me to.”

Absolutely not true, but the only thing he could say to satisfy both concerns.

“When did…” Akutagawa starts, but without the energy to continue the conversation. His eyes start to fall shut again, and his breaths start to change again, slow, quiet.

Atsushi wonders how long it's been since he slept.

[cyberdragoninfinity]

CANNOT stop thinking about how for the most part this whole duel links event Yuri has been very Often and Adamantly referring to the Reunification of the Yuboys as a Present Tense Event, something that's still actively happening (which he isnt.. technically wrong about, since we know from dialogue from back in Yuto's event that the actual 'real life not VR' yuboys are still in yuya's soul)

(that last one especially gets me--there's been a whole underlining narrative this event about the yuboys trying to figure out if Yuri really didn't change after everything and Yuri stubbornly maintaining that it doesn't matter anyway) (almost (to me) like in his eyes at the end of the day he's still just a piece of Zarc anyway. a puzzle piece doesn't change shape after it's slotted into place, after all.) (but a conversation on Yuri's complete mental lack of personhood is for another time)

EXCEPT!! There are a few times he's slipped up, referenced the Yuboy Fusion/"being one" as a past event; he does it once in his conversation with Yugo but more importantly he does it when he admits to the other three that his worldview Has shifted, he's actually learned to have fun even while losing. (which is a HUGE deal for this character but anyway)

"we used to be one and the same......"

him saying that now, in his lv 2000 raid cutscene, it definitely seems like this is deliberate character progression, so now this damn game got me wondering if maybe, just maybe, this event is gonna end with some depiction of Yuri having to openly accept and embrace that he ISNT just a Zarc shard, he isn't just a Duel Academy superweapon, but an individual person, just as the other yuboys are their own people beyond being cosmically Zarc-linked.

and, well, if that happens, i WILL be hooting and hollering and exploding and maybe crying a little. who knows!!!!

[cttrajan1206]

OH I FORGOT! i also wanted to ask, how did anjem get his scar??

WAAAAAA ALSO FUN

Was really hoping for this question actually sjshdjf

This is how Astral first discovered his soot power actually!

It all began when Anjem was cleaning the room and dropped a vase. He was picking up the pieces when a shard sliced at his hand. It wasn't too bad but quite a lot of blood seeped out at first. His main concern was dripping blood over everything so he wrapped some tissue around it and cleared up the vase. Or so he would have done if it were not for Astral suddenly grabbing at his hand, boice full of wonder.

It was the first time he'd seen blood.

It was beautiful.

He wanted to see more.

He asked Anjem about it, who, under the brainwashih especially, wasn't quite sure but he was Astral's doll to with as he wished. Astral cupped his face, admiring him as he said that. He brushed his thumb over Anjem's lips, watching the soot trail down them.

He wondered if humans bled from their mouths too.

Before Anjem could react, Astral had already picked up a shard and slashed at it. The pain had been more intense than his hand and he flinched, crying out. The soot across his lips mixed with it and Astral snapped out of it, struck by the fact he'd hurt him and willing the pain to stop.

The pain didn't stop, but the blood did, clotting quickly as an ugly mixture of dried soot.

Anjem was given the day off and they thought nothing of it. The next day, it had healed already, leaving behind only the scar.

In the mirror, Anjem realised he liked it better this way. There was an ever faint line of soot outside its edges but this way, his face was now both his and Astral's. There was a distinct mark of them both there. The pain hadn't even been that bad. And Astral had been so worried for him. He loved getting such attention from the shade. If anything, it was a mark of Them, togrther. As Shade soot and Human blood.

And Astral? If anything Astral found the event fascinating. And later, when it was fully healed and aged, he realised the scar was pretty hot actually.

After that, they'd do experiments often. Anjem has a few more scars around his body - all in non vital and relatively safe areas.

Astral inflicted most of them.

They did nothing against pain until they could sneak in things from the relief team either. The wounds never actually stopped, Astral just got better at sealing them up quickly so they didn't scar. Anjem doesn't mind it. He loves the attention, specifically from Astral and from watching him work his power.

He got used to the pain quickly after all.

Ajsbdjd anyway!! I rambled a bit but yeee this is the full story haha.

Thank you for asking !!

Here's another tidbit doodle:

Astral loves Anjem's face. Similar to Louise and Lou, but Astral holds Anjem as a separate beijg to him and admires him in a different way. One of his favourite activities is to hold Anjem and trace an outline for each feature with his fingers.

Anjem adores this too

[bonnieisaway]

Was rewatching Scissor Seven as a treat and you know what I just noticed? Seven has always shown a propensity for being an incredibly quick learner, which is one of the ways he was so lethal as an assassin, but holy shit I never realized- In the episode Two Heroes, when he's fighting Redtooth he never uses his qi to manipulate his sword in his signature fighting style like we see him do later on with Thousand Demon Daggers and his scissors, but at the end of the fight he literally watches Green Phoenix manipulate his own two swords to drive off Redtooth WITH qi in the same way he often does later on so, so what are the chances this mofo saw GP waving his swords around, said hmm that seems useful and STRAIGHT UP COPIED HIS QI TECHNIQUE FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE JUST FROM WATCHING QP DO IT???

Oh my god wait actually that'd be so cool if that was why

He is a quick learner!! I hope eventually they talk a bit more about it because back in season 1 his only named move at the time was just 'high imitation' when he was able to copy Dachun but he hasn't really tried with anyone else's moves - which I think he would be INSANE with Thirteen's one move she learned from Green Phoenix, twin blades, moonlight on twin phoenixes - but also now in season four he has his own named move that isn't an imitation. It's insane how fast he's able to learn and adapt even whilst actively in combat, especially back when he fought Redtooth back when he was 15.

But also while being a very quick learner I do love that he has this combat style and general attitude about these things that are very much his own. I think the only time before Two Heros he's used his qi on the Thousand Demon Daggers was back in We Meet Again, Captain Jack and Thirteen was in danger. But like really throughout the show along with how fast he learns and keeps things in mind (I mean, he was literally tripping balls when Eleven and Dachun fought and still remembered from back then Dachun's, and the rest of the bodybuilders's, biggest weakness. And he has an affinity for doing things that have never been done before, he just tries new shit and it works! Especially when he fights Redtooth and uses his scissors the way he does at the end of the fight, he does that again in season 3! Above that he also used the sword presented to him as the 'attack only, Thousand Demon Daggers' to protect Thirteen using the shards in season 3.

I think it's really cool like how much he learns and how fast he does but also they still balance that loveable dumbass personality with how insanely quick he is to adapt and learn things

[astrum-aetherium]

Do you think Henry and Camilla were actually in love?

the question of all questions has finally found its way into my inbox. i don't know how long this will be, but just know that i could write a novel-length essay supporting my opinion. here's a shortened version.

i've spent a long time entertaining this thought, specifically as someone who is undeniably (and evidently) attracted to henry in more ways than one. when i initially read the book for the first time in 2019, i obviously picked up on the clues donna tartt scarcely dispersed throughout the length of the novel (with the glass shard scene posing a final confirmation of her intentions for the two characters), and i must say, out of my naive and obnoxiously teenaged simplicity of perception, i did accept their (strangely established) love and even root for it; especially during henry's last scene — the actual, outspoken confession and the secret whisper — and camilla's consecutive rejection of richard's proposal with the claim she still loved henry.

however, i have matured now, read the book a few more times, and found reason to change my viewpoint completely. no, i no longer believe they were in love per se — let me elaborate. before i do, however, i have to put a TW for incest on here. it is unavoidable when talking of henry and camilla. therefore, beware. lots of mentions of incest-related trauma and the consequences thereof.

the realization that i disbelieve in their love being romantic struck me upon my first reread, because i somehow suppressed the actual outrage of camilla and charles' incestual relationship. of course, i remembered them to be romantically involved with one another, but having read the book anew at a slightly older age, i started comprehending the sheer extent of the trauma that may originate from something like that. there is an undeniable possibility of it having started as a form of abuse instead of something purely consensual (which incest very, very rarely is), and that has led me to believe that camilla, at least in future years to come, would no longer be attracted to men both romantically as well as sexually. this may very well be a response to her trauma.

here, of course, it can be argued that it was all consensual and would thus not result in trauma, but i wholeheartedly disagree with that. incest, being taboo and socially unacceptable for very plausible reasons, would generate trauma regardless of the degree of willingness the participating parties portray. that is, of course, given the parties are aware of the taboo aspect of it in the first place, which charles and camilla obviously were. however much i believe it did not, in fact, start as something consensual (once again — it very rarely does), i understand where one might be coming from with claims that it did, as this is all fiction and we simply have no possibility of knowing for sure.

to cut this tangent short — i believe camilla would develop into a lesbian based on her incest-related trauma and would therefore simply mistake her "love" for henry for devotion to his authoritative and mystifying charms and leadership skills. she would believe to be in love with him because she would simply be unaware of her sexuality just yet, given she was still participating in incestuous activity with her twin brother, and would instead seek solace in the company of another man who she does not have a familial bond with. after all, even she and francis had a small little thing (a kiss from what i can remember), and he himself is openly queer.

as for henry, this is where things get a little more complex. i sort of deride his attraction to camilla, however real it may have been, as she is, after all, the only girl in their circle. of course, i keep thinking, of course everyone will be going after her. that poor thing — not even safe from her own brother.

from henry's point of view, i think he just projected the conventionally instilled idea of finding a partner to settle down onto the first intelligent woman he came across who matched his quite specific interests. and this is not to say that camilla cannot be loved for any other reason, but i simply, honestly and truthfully, find it hard to believe that henry would ever genuinely love someone. i know that we all like to believe that he has a soft side, but i more often than not don't. he does, after all, portray antisocial and even psychopathic tendencies. and people suffering from personality disorders like that are unlikely to ever perceive authentic emotions. i think his supposed love for camilla is a result of a conventional belief being applied to encountering someone who is so similar to you interest-wise that you initially feel like they are the one. he may have felt subconsciously "forced" to find a life partner, as that is the traditional standard for humanity that even his deviant mindset cannot undo.

this is what i honestly think. trauma-induced, misinterpreted, misplaced feelings for an authoritative figure juxtaposed with a misapplied, subconscious manifestation of a conventional belief. perhaps platonic love, but certainly not romantic; strong — yes, may as well, but not romantic or, for that matter, sexual (once again, due to trauma).

i do hope this communicates my position on the matter well. thank you for asking. i enjoyed gathering my thoughts and phrasing them in conclusive sentences at last.

[aviculor]

To elaborate on my Katakuri theory, there's a lot of small details. For instance, despite being able to see the future, a jellybean he flicked knocked out the priest before he could shoot Sanji. When he invaded the Sunny, he literally sat down with his arms and legs crossed and just watched Brook and Chopper take his men out. Despite having a den den mushi and witnessing Luffy talk to his crew through a mirror shard, he at no point informs Perospero or any of his other siblings that the Strawhats are still alive. He doesn't even say anything about it to Brulee, Mascarpone, and Joscarpone who are also there in the mirror world. Basically, it would have been incredibly easy for him to kill the Strawhats and be done with it, yet he chose to do nothing simply to see how things would play out. Any time he took initiative, it was neutralizing an active threat to his family such as flicking jellybeans at would-be assassins and providing mochi earplugs during Big Mom's shriek. And, of course, fighting Luffy. Which as I said before, quickly revealed that he respects Luffy and ended with him lowkey making Luffy promise to bring down Big Mom. In short, Katakuri secretly wants his mom to be defeated.

During his backstory, the idea of going to his mom over what happened is never even brought up. No, despite being the princes and princesses of Totto Land, the Charlotte children were completely on their own. No special status. Free to be bullied, free to be assaulted and mutilated. They only had each other to rely on. In fact, when you look at the timeline, Linlin was sailing with the Rocks Pirates during most of her children's childhoods. I'm not even quite sure how she was doing that and also giving birth to at least one child a year for the last 42 solid years. But that's not important right now. What is important is that Charlotte Linlin is a bad mother who is not only negligent, but outright abusive and even willing to kill her children for getting in her way during a tantrum. Katakuri, a man who loves his siblings so dearly that he became a "perfect" cold and calculating killing machine just to keep them safe, has every reason to resent his mother. Additionally, I would imagine it bothers him how he needs to act so stoic and deathly serious to be taken seriously, yet Big Mom can act like a spoiled child and still be treated with the utmost respect and fear. Remember that's not only his mother, that's also his captain. He and Perospero essentially co-lead the Big Mom Pirates whenever Linlin isn't in her right mind, which is...often. Despite Katakuri explicitly being the strongest member of the crew outside of Big Mom herself, it's easy to think of Perospero as the #2 because he is the one at Big Mom's side carrying out her orders and acting in her interest. Katakuri...is not. If you notice, he barely even interacts with Big Mom except during the wedding ceremony. It's also worth noting he conspicuously stayed behind in Totto Land when the Big Mom Pirates sailed into Wano. All evidence suggests he's not actually that loyal to Big Mom, but he cannot openly defy her. Especially not without his beloved family turning on him.

So what happens when a young upstart pirate captain with a reputation for toppling empires named Monkey D. Luffy declares war on Big Mom and basically comes in her home to spit in her face? He personally goes to see if Luffy can put his money where his mouth is. Over the course of a long, long fight, he comes to realize Luffy might actually have what it takes and accepts defeat. He asks Luffy one more time if he still plans on coming back to defeat Big Mom one day. And when informed that Luffy successfully escaped from Totto Land, he smirks.

As for why he bothered getting in the way during Bege's assassination plot, it stands to reason his observation haki future vision told him his siblings would try to avenge her and throw their own lives away. And they would ask why he didn't do anything to stop it. Maybe he foresaw that it wouldn't even work. But much like Luffy wanting to beat up Hody Jones, it just wasn't the right way to do it.

[raayllum]

TDP Reflections: Lost Child breakdown 

“Know your roots and know yourself…”

Loss of sense of self motif for Viren, Claudia, Callum, and Rayla continues.

Claudia blinked in surprise—she didn’t realize she’d been followed from the campsite—and the creature blinked back. She tilted her head, and sure enough, the homunculus did the same.

LIKE A MIRROR REFLECTION YOU SAY, aaravos transforming her like a butterfly for his own ends

Something flickered behind its lamplike eyes—like someone passing in front of a flame—and Claudia realized that the air in her lungs was growing stale.

fire elarion motif (his touch a blaze, a gift, a spark) nobody’s business

Burbling happily, it offered her the mess like it was the prize of its many labors. Worms dangled helplessly in the air, many broken apart by the being’s sudden movement, their blunt ends wriggling in confusion.

IT’S FUCKING FISH B A I T, like bait on a hook, hook line and sinker

She uncorked her flask and plunged it into the pond. Bubbles sprouted from the lip, like someone drowning.

Her hands itched with the horrible lightness of each scattered piece, her feet ached as she walked and walked and walked to gather her father back together… And then the voice, the thread she had caught and clung to and used to haul herself out of the darkness.

I know the patience of a woven tapestry, how the weaver plaits the purpose of every thread, even as they disappear into the beauty of its design. (Patience, first Aaravos short story) / string and puppet symbolism

+ bonus dark isn’t always bad / light isn’t always good continued thread of symbolism / duality

It’s up to me again, she thought. It’s always up to me.

It’s also a perfect parallel to their own dynamics with their respective boyfriends. Terry is right there, actively supporting Claudia, but she can’t seem to fully trust that she can rely on him (just as Rayla feels she can’t fully rely on Callum - without getting him killed, perhaps) because they’e both too wrapped up in their tunnel vision of “I’m the one who has to sacrifice to keep other people together/safe” even when it’s detrimental to them and untrue. 

“So is that it?” she asked. “Aaravos left me too, huh? Like dad and Soren, and my mo—”

Lissa had left her years ago, but the space she had owned in Claudia’s heart remained. It was a dark place now, hard and hateful, its edges raw as a wound that had forgotten to heal.

A FESTERING WOUND / dark and light symbolism again as well as a parallel to Aaravos’ (missing) chest piece and according Key to his Heart theory

Surprised, Claudia looked up to see the homunculus. Its wings caught the sun, bathing it in a soft halo of lavender light. Its eyes glowed gold and luminous, almost warm, almost… patient.

A moment later, she blinked into the pond; her reflection beamed up at her. Her eyes brighter, her face fuller, more color in her cheeks. Small changes, but still—There I am, she thought.

Not only is this a smaller version of Viren’s butterfly spell to hide his physical dark magic corruption (and seemingly rejuvenate himself too) and it shows Claudia going down that path, but it’s also a parallel to 3x03:

But instead of being brought into the fold by someone else (and therefore supported through clarity rather than guise), Claudia is alone, because of course she is. 

“Let’s go,” Claudia told the creature. “I can fix this. I can fix anything.”

Her brother squirmed. “Clauds, Biscuit’s—” “—I know. But I fixed it. Now we can still play with her.” (Rise Again, S4′s Claudia short story)

She reached for its hand—and flinched. The remains of the second snail coated the homunculus’s palm, a stain of crushed flesh flecked with colorful shards of shell. The being seemed unperturbed. It gazed up at her, eyes bright and luminous. Like a helpless thing, Claudia thought. Like a child.

Re: Sir Sparklepuff being compared to both Claudia and a child, thus tethering Claudia to that same childlike comparison makes me find it especially interesting that seconds before this, Claudia reaffirms her sense of herself that she’s uniquely Strong vs her father’s “If we are led by a child king--” “He’ll make bad choices?” “He will make weak choices” as well as the juxtaposition of This, always: 

as well as the whole concept of being Lost (with Ezran and now Aaravos’ “lost and found” / game of “hide and seek” thing that’s going on) and Rayla’s “Don’t look for me and don’t follow me, I don’t think you’ll find me anyway” and Clarity of Vision amongst blackened (dark magic) / whitened (possession) eyes and

[everybodyshusband]

love languages

mushy may ; day fourteen (approx. 800 words)

read under the cut or on ao3 :)

(they/them rain, he/they swiss)

Rain’s thing has always been physical touch. They make it seem so simple, the way they effortlessly gravitate towards Mountain, linking their pinkies together, or pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. They like to be close to him; it reassures them as much as it reassures him that they’re both there, they exist, they’re in this together no matter how chaotic life gets. The reassurance is nice, and while Mountain isn’t always a touchy feely person, he finds himself missing the water ghoul’s cool touch when they’re not around.

Swiss likes words of affirmation. He likes to spill his praises for the earth ghoul from his lips in a never ending stream of adoration. It’s often when Mountain leasts expects it. He’ll be soaking in Copia’s unholy words of worship during a sermon and suddenly the multi ghoul’s voice will be in his ear, telling him how much they love seeing Mountain so engrossed in the service. Or maybe a murmured “thank you so much baby, so you’re so good to me” when Mountain reaches up to the highest cupboard to grab him a roll of baking paper. Even after all these years of knowing Swiss, their kind words still catch Mountain off guard every time. It’s always worth the surprise though, knowing that Swiss will be grinning up at his blush when he leans down to peck the multi ghoul on the cheek.

Ever since she was summoned, Cirrus has liked quality time. Time spent with just the two of them basking in each other’s good company. It never matters what the two of them do, just that they do it together. They’ve watched countless movies curled up on the couch together, worked together on separate projects on opposite sides of the greenhouse in almost total silence, and hiked up to Mountain’s favourite picnic spot deep in the woods that overlooks a field of flowers and a waterfall. The activities they do in their time spent together have always varied wildly, but again, neither of them think it matters much what they do, just that they do it together.

Cumulus enjoys gift giving, especially hand-crafted gifts. One year she banned Mountain from one of his greenhouses for three months while she painstakingly built and decorated a portable flower bed for him all by herself—the little plot now sits at the Abbey’s entrance, the colourful painted flowers along the side of the wood completely ruining whatever “evil satanic church aesthetic” the Clergy are trying to go for at the entrance, and Mountain couldn’t be more thrilled. Another year—only a few days after she was summoned and a few months before Dewdrop became a fire ghoul—she spent weeks moulding a clay soap dispenser for the ghouls’ communal bathroom. It wound up getting smashed to pieces when it got knocked off the counter, but Mountain kept a few of the shards and now they live in a little keepsake box in his room; Cumulus made that, too. Her gifts are always intricate, crafted with love, and Mountain treasures every single one.

Dewdrop, on the other hand, who would rather die than outwardly express his affection—or at least, that’s what he wants them all to think—shows his love through acts of service. It’s always in the most subtle of ways, and Mountain has to really pay attention in order to notice. After an exhausting day, he heads to his room and his clean washing has been folded neatly and placed on his chest of drawers. When he wakes up in a panic in the middle of the night because he forgot to give his new seedlings a sprinkle of water, he heads down to the greenhouses and finds the baby plants glistening with mist, and the fertiliser, which he also forgot about, is already sprinkled around the base of their stems. He makes an offhand remark about having lost his favourite hoodie, and the next day it’s sitting folded and washed on his sheets—he sneaks it back into Dewdrop’s room the same night with a love note tucked into the pocket; sue him, he likes seeing the fire ghoul swallowed up in his clothes, and he loves bearing witness to Dewdrop’s blush when he reads Mountain’s notes. As the years wear on and Dewdrop slowly becomes more vocal in expressing his love for his packmates, Mountain expects the acts to lessen. If anything, they become more and more frequent as Dewdrop grows his confidence and topples his internal walls stone by stone. It’s as if with every word of affection he speaks, he reiterates it tenfold through his actions. Mountain adores Dewdrop’s gradual increase in his ability to show affection. He knows it isn’t easy for the little spitfire, and he’s excited for him. More than anything, he’s simply happy. Happy to know that while all of Dewdrop’s feelings used to get bottled up, he’s now gaining the confidence to express it outwardly. Mountain couldn’t be prouder.

[rainofthestorm]

From the Shards: Worlds of Iron and Glass

our head's a mess~

I don't have much of an idea of what's currently happening in our head. We're sort of trying to figure out how Tal fits into everything, and a little worried about where his "home" seems to be in our headspace: a pitch-dark cave. Our brain is frequently overtaken by fog and noise, and while we can feel ourselves dissociating pretty clearly, it's less clear what that means at any given point.

We made a path from the wasteland to the lake at least, so he can kinda come and go as he wants to, on the path illuminated through the fog.

There's a lone mountain in the middle of the wasteland, and there's a path that leads to it and spirals up around it. Dead-looking trees dot the mountain, and there's a dozen or so (13 in all I think?) of these... kind of archways or gates at various points along the path. They're very... kinda ominous I guess, unfriendly and not welcoming at all. They look like they're made of a weird kind of black obsidian or glassy rock, and there's some odd etchings on them, runes of some kind I think. Most of them are... I guess I would say dormant? A couple seem to have opened and lead to other places in our headspace.

This place seems to have existed in our brain for a very long time, at least since high school, if not earlier. An ever-present mental image, that keeps coming back to us.

The first one, lowest down, leads to my place. A lake surrounded by a forest. After a while the forest disappears in the distant fog, just like a lot of other places in our headspace.

Caitanya... I guess I would say "found" this place? I'm not sure if it's representative of anywhere but. I have a persistent problem where I struggle to actually sit/lie down and let myself rest, much less let the others actually take over for me, even if I really need them to. So Cait found this place and built the little cabin here as a kind of place to rest, give me somewhere to go if I need a rest or a break and I can't find my own way to resting properly.

The second gate seems to lead to a beach we used to live near when we were a kid, at the base of the cliffs behind it. It's... I'm not sure if it's exactly that same place, but it is distinctly familiar and similar to it. I've ventured in there by accident once, and came back again later to have a look around.

Not much worth noting here as far as I can tell, except for the streets behind the cliff that lead back to the caravan park where we grew up, and our old house. Umbra seems to kind of hang out there a lot of the time, and Winter seems to visit there often as well.

The only other active gate at the moment seems to be the one at the top. Not too sure where exactly it leads, feels like some place deep underground. It's pitch dark with only a little torchlight. I met Tal for the first time in here, fairly recently. I've not been back to explore it yet.

There's some places I can just get to, without needing to really do anything but want to be there: the lake with my cabin, the black-sand island on the calm glassy ocean, the wasteland with the mountain and the gates, Cait's forest and the hot spring.

I don't know if everyone can just directly access them or not, especially those of us who've been sealed off behind gates until now.

Even with the gates that are open now, we don't know yet how much freedom of movement those people have in our headspace.

I know I can't just jump into their areas directly, I have to go via the gate that leads there. The only exception is the gate to the lake, but I think that's just because that is my place already, and I was already able to get to it before the gate opened up.

Seems kinda like each member in our system has a sort of domain where they have some amount of control and can go voluntarily.

I know Winter visits Umbra's place sometimes, I've seen them hanging out together, and Umbra can come back to my place, and has at least a few times.

And Tal... seems to be around somewhere, although I'm less clear where he is a lot of the time.

Lyric's place is somewhere near the lake, a dance studio with the mirrors on all the walls.

Winter... I'm not sure where her home area is, I don't have a very solid idea of where she tends to hang out in our headspace. She's fronted a handful of times, but once she goes back in, I don't know where she goes.

Caitanya has her forest, and a hot spring somewhere in it. I don't know where exactly the forest is, but she's taken us there before. If she wants us there, it's no problem to get there, and she usually is okay with us being there. If she doesn't, though, I've no idea how to find it. It's a lush, quiet rainforest, lots of life but also a very peaceful place. I don't know if anything or anyone other than the plants and Caitanya live there, I've only ever seen her and the other headmates there.

There's some sort of permissions system, like I can go to any place whose owners want me there? But seemingly not places where they either don't know about me or don't particularly want to be found.

I wonder if this is why so many gates are still closed to me, because there are still those of us who are not ready to be found. I wonder if others may see different gates open than I do?

And aside from everyone's own spaces, there's... the ocean, the island, I don't know if anyone really "owns" that. I would guess we probably all have some ability to get there, we've had everyone that was awake/active meet there before, but not since Wren woke up, I think. It's... not somewhere we like to be.

Near as I can tell it's where a lot of things are buried, underneath the water. Lots of obsidian glass shards on the ocean floor. I'd guess it's the remains of... whatever the hell we destroyed when we were 11. The water is quite shallow near the island, but I'm not sure how deep it gets further out.

It's a bleak place, cold. Lonely, even if we're all here at once. Kinda like the wasteland in that way, but less structured, formless. There's no wind here, but the air carries an ever-present chill that tells you that you're completely alone, even in company.

We come here to think, often. Before we understood what we were even looking at, the mental image of this place would always come when we needed to take a quiet moment to think, relax, and reset. Be alone for a moment. We'd disturb the water, dipping our hands in and letting it drip back into the ocean. The sound of water droplets falling into the ocean has always been very loud here, echoing as though this vast expanse of an ocean is somehow also underground. Contained. And loud as though the water is much denser than it should be, heavy.

The ocean with its island and the wasteland with the gates were the only two places we knew about for a long time. We'd see them both periodically, before we had any real concept of what they were. Just pictures in our head. It escaped our notice that we had a lot of trouble picturing much of anything else, but these places were curiously vivid, always.

The island is also... raw materials, in a sense? Glass shards from the ocean and black-iron sand, for fixing things and building things. Making stained glass. The raw and unprocessed source of everything, both useful things and painful things.

This used to be our only quiet place. Somewhere to come to think. Still kinda is, but Caitanya's since made others, so I at least don't come back here quite as often now.

The ocean is unmoving, smooth as glass itself. You can reach in sometimes and pick up shards from the seabed, or catch them as they're tossed by the currents running underneath the motionless surface.

Sometimes the shards are dark and quiet. It's not time for them yet. Sometimes.... there's brief snippets of memories. Sometimes touching them at all is painful, other times you can handle them, if you're careful. Some still have sharp edges, some seem to have been worn away by the ocean and by time.

I had... forgotten. We somewhat built Wren here. Creature of iron and glass. Though I don't know if I could say truly built more than found. The shards know what they are, we merely helped put things back together.

Although they still... maybe Wren's more complete now, but when they woke up they weren't. Not quite, anyway.

They must've come back at some point maybe... or maybe what they were missing simply wasn't here in this space. I know Cait tended them a while after they awoke, I guess she managed to fix up whatever was not quite right, not quite complete.

When they woke up they... we put the shards together, we made a bird-sculpture from the glass and iron. There's no sunlight here, but it was illuminated all the same, the shards themselves glowing in their way... and then they vanished briefly, reappearing high above. They... almost fell back into the sea, before they worked out how to fly.

Wren.., is often around, now. Messenger, sometimes, passing words and images along when needed. They.... are often not fronting but are very much in our awareness nonetheless. Near-surface I guess? Sometimes they front too, though, usually if I'm a little tired.

It took four of us (me, Lyric, Caitanya, and Roan) to awaken Wren. I don't... I don't think Cait was super happy with the result, at least at first. Understood it as necessary in some way, maybe, but. Displeased. I think it wasn't good for them to wake up incomplete and scared. We're glad she took care of them anyway though.

But this place, the ocean... nothing leads to it. It just kinda is.

We are ourselves, we are our places. Our places guide us and shape us, We construct our places, and our places maintain us.

The others... Cait's forest is similar in that way. Can't really go there directly, and there aren't gates that lead there. But if we need to be there, we can get there, she'll take us.

Roan... I guess the sun kinda is its place? only been there once. strange place. also a little unfriendly, unsettling. Permanently eclipsed by some vast sheet of obsidian-glass.

Not being freely traversable seems to mean we get a bit foggy the more we venture around. There's lots of fog-walls around places, many of these are very closed-in areas, mostly...

But the ocean and the wasteland go on forever... with no sun in the sky at all, just pitch-dark night. The mountain in the centre of the wasteland and the island in the middle of the ocean are the only features in either place, as though mirroring each other.

.... I think I'm a little worried I'll get lost in here if I venture too much or too deeply.

Even though.... I'm not really supposed to be spending too much time in here... I want to. I want to understand these things. It's a little frustrating at times, but I know I'm too impatient a lot of the time.

[lilmissbacon]

What fairytales make up the Schnee family? (Theory/Thoughts)

I'm bored and can't mentally finish any of my other projects right now, so I think talking about something less complicated would be a nice way to try and loosen the mental gate that's refusing to open right now.

Now it's strange that most of Weiss's family don't have fairytale origins when everyone else's families do. Even throwaway characters you see one time will have a fable origin. So I've taken the time to actually come up with 2 groups theories for what I think the Schnee family's fairytale equivalents could be. I believe it's basically been confirmed that their grandfather was Santa, I know that. And I do understand that it's apparently been confirmed that Jacques is meant to be Jack Frost, but considering his character hasn't done anything directly connecting him with that character yet, along with how I think RT is willing to retcon origins (Oscar seemed to be based on Dorothy but then retconed to be Tip from the Oz book (not confirmed, just speculation)), I'm not really a big fan of Jacques being Jack Frost and I don't see why we can't just change his fairytale.

Theory group #1: Winter characters

Jacques = Krampas

I think instead of Jacques being based on a character that's usually categorized as just pretty mischievous, have him based on a fable that's actually more outwardly evil. Granted there are different takes on the Krampus tale, including him and Santa actually being in cahoots, Santa rewording good children and Krampus punishing bad children. It's been a while since I really watched RWBY or the Remnants series, but I do believe Nicholas Schnee and Jacques were work partners for a minute before Nicholas died. As well as the connection of Jacques's abuse toward his kids and Krampus being known for beating children.

Willow = Jack Frost

While I did say Jack Frost is mostly just known for being mischievous, he is a pretty flexible myth, given that no one truly knows the origins of it. He's portrayed as evil sometimes, sure, but the actual myth itself is just an obscure being who spreads frost during the fall season to let humans know winter is coming. Willow was also an obscure character for the long time she was never on screen, and you could see this 'spreading frost' aspect as an allegory for Willow giving Weiss the security footage to warn her that danger is coming (ba-dum-cshhhh). Not to mention it is theorized that the Jack Frost myth originates from the Norse deity of winter, Jokul Frosti. Who is also known as old man winter, which is also another title that's associated with Santa Claus himself. Further connecting Willow to her dad. And it would mean Willow is the third person connected to the Schnee's who is based on Norse myth (Nora being Weiss's friend and Fria being based on Freya). Maybe Willow used to be much more mischievous and playful as a kid/teen before Jacques came along; as a way to really allude to her being Jack Frost as well as show just how far she's fallen from grace.

Winter = the Snow Queen

Pretty sure most people have theorized this and it just makes the most sense. Especially now that she's the winter maiden and actively has snow/ice powers (yes all the maidens control in the elements in RWBY, but Winter and Fria clearly favor snow). It would be cool if this meant that Weiss and Whitley doubled as the two main kids, Gerta and Kay, from the Snow Queen tale. Which could also make sense because Kay was a nice boy before a piece of the queen's cursed mirror got lodged into his heart and turned him cruel. Only for Gerta to come back and heal his heart. Winter having left the Schnee manor (leading Weiss to do the same) and leave Whitley behind, would definitely be that glass shard here; as it is most likely the first step into how Whitley became as jaded as he was. And as much as Whitley's 'redemption arc' was not done well, Weiss being the cause of him becoming better was what the writers were aiming for.

Whitley = Rudolph the red nosed Reindeer

Look I'm not very well-versed in old or not-well-known fairytales, and considering their grandfather being Santa, there is some connection here 🤣🤣🤣 And yeah, Rudolph is a more modern tale... but team FNKI are literally based on memes. I could also just keep the idea of him being Kay from the Snow Queen but I like thinking too much and Weiss already doubles with Snow White + Gerta so I'm doubling him too.

Hear me out: a young boy who is isolated for being different, not allowed to join the other kids because of this difference, only to use his uniqueness and skills to help save the day. We don't really know how Jacques treated each of his kids when they were younger, but Whitley was left behind by his sisters and he had no way of joining them in their reindeer games because he had no semblance. Only for Whitley to come around, saving the day by sending Schnee airships to save civilians when the grimm were attacking. They could even take it a step further if there ever is a volume 10. Have it start where volume 8 left off; with Winter killing grimm in the sandstorm. Have this intense life or death situation be what causes Whitley to finally unlock his semblance. And the reason he couldn't before was because his semblance is not the Schnee glyphs. Thus him protecting people in this sandstorm with energy shields that look like bubbles of bright red light. Harkening to how Rudolph led his way through the snowstorm with his red nose. This all may kinda sound ridiculous but I think it's fun.

Theory Group #2: Snow White characters

Family members in RWBY don't have a trend of being connected fairytale-wise as well. After all, Ruby and Yang themselves are based on Red Riding Hood and Goldilocks, tales that have basically nothing connecting them. And from what I understand, Blake's parents are Jungle Book characters, despite her and Adam being Beauty and the Beast. So it's not like Weiss's family needs to be Snow White characters. However, if their fairytales are not my first pics as above, I think it would be really cool if they were. And we've already seen their butler, Klein, fall into the category of being the seven dwarves to compliment Weiss as Snow White. I clearly don't have nearly as much to say or explain here so let's just get through them.

Jacques = Evil Queen

Just makes more sense as the villainess parent who keeps trying to stop his daughter from being happy.

Willow = Poison apple

Considering she wasn't seen for the longest time, it's easy for an off screen character to just be a reference to something rather than a character (I.e. Summer Rose being based on a poem). And even now that she's had screen time, her main character trait is that she poisons herself through alcohol.

Winter = The huntsmen

The one who has a profession in huntsmen-ship and ultimately protects Snow White from the Evil Queen.

Whitley = Magic mirror

From what we've seen from Whitley, he's definitely the kid in the family who adapts to who he's surrounded by. He was left alone by his sisters with their father and by proxy, started becoming more like Jacques. Not really because he wanted to be, but as a means of survival. And then in volumes 8/9 he's shown to became more sympathetic and even heroic to an extent (I.e. calling a doctor for Nora, using Schnee resources to help civilians, and he + Willow crushing the grimm). Aka; the more time the "heroes" were around him, the more he became heroic. His character probably wouldn't keep bouncing around like this depending on his companions, but it comes to show that on screen thus far, he's a character who is reflective of the people around him. And it's not to say that he can't just act certain ways to manipulate the villains in the future, in order to keep this reflective aspect of his character. After all, he just acted more like Jacques as a defense mechanism and to become the favorite child. He was only annoying towards Weiss because she and Winter had left him behind, we never got the chance to see what he was like towards anyone else.

These are just my thoughts/theory for now, let me know what you think.

[rosietrace]

Melodic Misconceptions 🎹

Track 17: They only want you when you're seventeen

Synopsis: Victoria Shard was a former member of the popular idol group [ Poisoner ] from NRC corporations. After discourse with her group leader, Victoria decided it was best for her to leave and pursue her solo career in a record label run by her parents.

It had been half a year since her separation from her old group, and Victoria had never been more successful. But now she has a new problem. She must return to NRC corporations in order to mentor the seven idol groups.

Ellis Clawthorne is a member of [ (Co)-connect ] the most recent group under NRC'S belt. With no experience as an idol, Ellis must persevere in order to succeed and pursue her dreams.

Will both girls be able to adapt to their current situations?

✐ ✎_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_✐ ✎

Author's note: After struggling with editing, it has arrived TvT unfortunately this track doesn't have any social media segments since it dives into more serious topics

This is an Aguri centered track, so unfortunately, you won't be seeing much of the other idols. But hey, Kaz is there-

On the other hand, this track is my attempt at doing a second person POV since Aguri is the reader(But can be interpreted as his own person)

To those who have read a certain mini-series in my Addams family AU, you'll have a clear idea of the kind of person Koral is.

This track is heavily inspired by the song "Seventeen" by Ladytron, so you probably have an idea of what it's about. Especially with the title of the track-

I hope you enjoy this track, despite the serious topics it will imply. If you are upset by the way the topic is portrayed, I apologize in advance.

Warning(s): Heavily implied r∆pe/sexual assault, possibly bad portrayal of the subject, my writing in general

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

You were bored.

I mean, sure, living in a luxurious apartment building with your cat is nice.

But at the same time… It just got boring after a while.

You were known as Aguri Harper, a famed actor who got their fame from being recommended by Vil Schoenheit, an idol.

It wasn't the full story, but it's the most known.

Speaking of Vil, he sent you a text that he was gonna visit you to discuss something together. You weren't sure what he meant, but since he's a close friend of yours, you allowed him to visit.

Hearing the sound of your cat purring, you chuckled."Nice to see that you're happy to be home again, Kaz." You joked, gently petting Kaz's fur.

After allowing Kaz the luxury of resting on your lap, you sat on the couch for who knows how long. It wasn't like you were counting, anyway.

Nevertheless, you eventually heard the sound of your doorbell. Sighing, you had to put Kaz on the couch to answer the door and see Vil.

In doing so, you shamelessly activated your charismatic persona."Hey Vil~" you greeted, pretending as if you didn't argue with him during the filming of 'young and beautiful'.

Vil hummed, walking past you and entering your apartment. You couldn't help but huff, hoping he didn't mind a slightly messy living room.

Vil sat on the chair near the kitchen counter."I'm sure you're aware that I need your opinion on something, Aguri." He finally said, setting his bag on the chair next to him.

Shrugging casually, you leaned against the kitchen counter."I know. I just wanna know what we're gonna talk about. I don't have all day, you know." You admitted.

Vil nodded vehemently and locked eyes with you while wearing an intense gaze.

"I'm getting a new manager for [ Poisoner ]." Vil said. Unsurprisingly, you felt your eyes widen in shock.

"Huh?? A new manager??? I mean I know it's been half a year since your last one quit but still-"

"No need to be so shocked, Aguri. You know that an idol group can't function without proper management." Vil quickly interrupted and sent you a cold stare.

That was where you thought, Ah. So he is still upset with me.

Letting out a breath, you nodded and allowed him to continue whatever ramble he was gonna have.

"For starters, I wanted to tell you that I've already arranged an appointment with a candidate. I just need your opinion about how they'd perform as a manager."

After listening to his statement, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow."Right… Who'd you choose?" You asked hesitantly.

Vil held his breath and looked like he was expecting you to get upset over who he was gonna say.

"Koral Larrane."

You fell silent as Vil looked at you awkwardly.

"..... Koral?" With your previous question answered, you already had another one waiting for a response.

Vil gave you a quick nod."Yes. Koral Larrane of XXX enterprises." He replied with an emotionless look in his eyes. It made you even more irritated.

"Vil you can't be serious! Isn't she 15???"

"She's 17." Vil corrected.

"That doesn't change the fact that she's still too young to be a manager!"

Vil didn't bother to prevent himself from rolling his eyes."You're saying that as if [ Hearts & Roses ] doesn't have a 17-year-old manager as well."

"Frisk De La Rose became their manager because of the CEO's incompetence! At the very least, she got lessons in management before being properly appointed!"

"You're acting as if Koral won't go through the same process. A bit hypocritical, don't you think?"

"How the hell- Ugh…" you groaned, placing a hand over your forehead."I can't believe you'd choose Koral of all people…"

Vil squinted his eyes."And what's that supposed to mean?" He questioned as if he was trying to interrogate you.

"She's an idol too, you know."

"She can still pursue her career while being our manager."

You grit your teeth in aggravation, growing even more tired of Vil with each passing second.

"Did you at least ask your group mates for their opinions?..."

It was Vil's turn to fall silent now. That was all you needed to be even angrier at him.

"Vil, what the hell?!?" You yelled, startling Kaz a little.

He twitched his eye while his patience was falling at the seams."I'll inform them of my decision later. Besides, they can't do anything about it anyway."

You clenched your jaw, scowling menacingly at him. Or you at least tried to."And why is that?" In an attempt to intimidate Vil, you tried narrowing your eyes a bit.

But it didn't work.

Vil only scoffed."You don't need to know. Besides…" he trailed his sentence away, "I'm leaving."

In response, you grunted, watching him walk out of your apartment and almost step on Kaz's tail in the process.

When he finally left, you slammed your fist on the kitchen counter. That was enough for Kaz to run into your room to rest a little longer.

"He…. He doesn't even know…"

You felt tears brim your eyes.

".... What Koral's manager did to me."

❀•°•═════ஓ๑🖤๑ஓ═════•°•❀

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?"

"Yes. Thank you for coming, Y/N."

You gulped, feeling a little nervous after they addressed you by your first name.

Scratch that, you were nervous your whole trip to this agency. The woman in front of you was the soon-to-be manager of Koral Larrane, an idol who will eventually debut in two years.

Sitting down, you sent the woman an awkward smile."Haha…" the woman smiled in amusement, crossing their legs and looking down at you.

"S-So, Um-"

"I know what you're trying to say."

You audibly gasped, feeling a little startled by the sudden interruption."You do?" You asked, eyes remaining wide.

The woman nodded and stood up, walking towards the door."I do. You want me to sponsor you so you can make your debut in the acting industry," she started, locking the door.

At that realization, you tensed up. Huh?... How did she-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the woman gently cupping your cheeks."Luckily for you, I help both idols and actors…" she whispered, inching closer to your face.

Your lips parted as you backed away."M-Ma'am?" You stuttered, confused by her action.

Unfortunately, you ended up on the floor after falling from the couch. With the woman on top of you.

"It's okay, Y/N…. I'll help you."

You quivered in fear, rethinking your decision."I-Its fine! I-I'll just-" your words were cut off as the woman's lips connected with your own, and your eyes widened in shock.

You couldn't move. It felt like your body was forcing you not to move.

It didn't help that you let out an unwanted moan when the woman was grinding against you. A satisfied sigh escaped her lips as she inched closer to your face once more.

"I'll be gentle with you, Y/N. Don't worry…"

❀•°•═════ஓ๑🖤๑ஓ═════•°•❀

You were seventeen at the time.

You shuddered at the memory and laid down on your bed in discomfort. Holding Kaz close to your chest, you did what you could to drift off and sleep.

But you couldn't. The memory kept flooding back.

You grunted, gently putting Kaz to the side as you massage your temples.

"I can't sleep…" you groaned as the memory kept playing in your head.

That feeling of discomfort, of losing your virginity at such a young age… It kept putting you over the edge.

And you hated it.

You hugged your legs and leaned against the headboard of your bed. Feeling Kaz cuddle up against you, a sad smile graced your face.

Feeling tears brim your eyes, you sniffled. And picked up Kaz, holding him close to your chest once more.

"At least I have you, Kaz…"

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

Tagging:

@starry-night-rose @windbornearchon @nem0-nee @fumikomiyasaki @sakuramidnight15 @geminiiviolets @authoruio @twsted-princess @knights-escort