#Let me know if you'd like more!

[dealy-health3051]

FemiPro Supplements - Health

A Game-Changer for Women's Wellness: FemiPro Supplements Review

When it comes to women's health, finding the right supplement that meets all your needs can be challenging. After using the FemiPro Supplements - Health product, I can confidently say it’s a game-changer. From its high-quality ingredients to its noticeable benefits, this supplement has exceeded my expectations.

Unmatched Quality and Ingredients

The first thing I noticed about FemiPro Supplements is its commitment to quality. The product is made with natural and scientifically-backed ingredients, tailored specifically to support women's health. Unlike other generic supplements, FemiPro is designed to address common issues like hormonal balance, energy levels, and overall vitality. It contains essential vitamins, minerals, and plant-based extracts that promote long-term health without unnecessary additives.

Remarkable Benefits for Energy and Mood

After incorporating the supplement into my daily routine, I experienced a significant boost in energy levels. The fatigue I often felt in the afternoons became a thing of the past. Additionally, FemiPro had a positive impact on my mood. The balanced blend of nutrients seems to support mental clarity and emotional well-being, which is a major win for any woman juggling a busy schedule.

Improved Hormonal Health and Balance

One of the standout features of FemiPro is its ability to support hormonal health. As someone who has struggled with irregular cycles and hormonal fluctuations, I noticed a marked improvement within a few weeks of using this product. It helped regulate my cycles, reduce PMS symptoms, and enhance my overall sense of balance. This targeted approach to hormonal wellness is what sets FemiPro apart from other products on the market.

Supports Skin, Hair, and Nail Health

An unexpected but welcome benefit of FemiPro was the noticeable improvement in my skin, hair, and nails. My skin feels more hydrated and radiant, my nails have grown stronger, and my hair has regained its shine. These changes indicate that the supplement truly works from within to enhance overall beauty and vitality.

Easy to Use and Gentle on the Stomach

FemiPro Supplements are incredibly easy to integrate into any routine. The capsules are easy to swallow, and I experienced no stomach discomfort or side effects, which is often a concern with other products. The thoughtful formulation ensures that the supplement is gentle yet effective, making it suitable for long-term use.

Final Thoughts: A Must-Try for Women

Using FemiPro Supplements has been a transformative experience. It addresses multiple facets of women’s health, from hormonal balance to energy and skin health, all in one convenient product. Whether you're looking to improve your overall well-being, tackle specific health concerns, or simply feel your best every day, I highly recommend giving FemiPro a try.

With its superior quality and proven benefits, FemiPro Supplements have become a staple in my health routine, and I couldn’t be happier with the results.

[otomehonyaku]

Diabolik Lovers More,Blood ☽ Yandere Ruki (Manservant Ending)

I was reminded of this scene a little while ago (thanks to @karleksmumskladdkaka, who is my daily Ruki content dealer tbh) and I'd like you all to indulge in yandere Ruki with me for a moment... the unhinged whispering fucking kills me every time dkfjdfkf

[sboochi]

So apparently vikings really liked poetry

EVERYONE LOOK AT THE ART ALKA DREW FOR THIS AU!!!

[headcanonthings]

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 3

Gotham Academy High School was the sort of school where almost everyone was elite in some way or another. Some of them were from old money like Damian who held himself up to a very high standard in his academics and was the top of the class. Others from new money like Dash and the rest of his cohorts became very hateful of somebody like Danny who was given a scholarship by Bruce Wayne, in their eyes Danny was taking advantage of Damian not even knowing that Damian approached Danny for companionship two years ago.

This also meant that everyone including the teachers would compare Danny and Damian to each other even though they weren’t brothers. That didn’t matter though as Danny was associated with them so that was all the reason they needed.

Danny groaned as he sunk into the seat next to Damian. The lunchroom was filled with chatting students and Danny was glad he shared the next class with Damian, which happened to be English. Dash never bothered Danny when Damian was around, probably because Damian had threatened the jock. How he was threatened Danny didn’t know, Damian never told him what happened and he was a little scared to ask. 

The guy hadn’t stopped harassing Danny since he and Jazz transferred a couple years ago. The school year had barely begun and Dash had made Danny his primary target like he was making up for lost time over the summer. Danny sighed as he dropped his paper bagged lunch on the table with a little plop. Jazz had packed for him this morning hopefully before his parents arrived and contaminated the entire kitchen.

“Dash again?” his sister asked across the table, she was seated next to Tim.

“I was paired against him in dodgeball again,” Danny lamented, his head resting on his arms that were crossed on the table.

“Danny, could you just talk to Mr. Lancer or something?” Jazz asked before she took a bite from her sandwich.

Danny sighed again and unpacked his lunch, “I have but no one will listen! They all act like I’m lying or something.” The teachers at this school probably wouldn’t listen to a charity case like him. Dash was a football player and had plans to become captain of the team. Everyone at the school loved Dash and it was precisely why everyone except maybe the four students at the table they were seated looked down and sometimes even bullied Danny.

Danny ignored it all eventually, it was better just to let the jock tire himself out. 

Once Danny and Damian finished eating they made their way to English. Luckily it was easy to carry the material for a class that only required a small binder and whatever book they were reading, in this case it was ‘gone with the wind’. Danny didn’t really care about reading old literature like this but he did what he had to maintain the grades he had. He’d endure anything, even Dash’s bullying, to become an astronaut.

Danny could hardly concentrate today through his afternoon classes. For some reason he had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. He tried his best to ignore it, he was probably just tired or something. Soon the school day was out and Danny packed up whatever homework he had for the day and headed outside to wait with Jazz. Damian and Tim were probably wrapping up their classes. Tim had an AP class that ran an extra 30 minutes and Damian’s last class was art, they were doing a painting and it wasn’t unusual for Damian to finish up what he was working on as he found out over the last few years that he enjoyed painting.

“… Do you think it’ll work?” Jazz asked a hint of hesitation in her voice. Danny knew she was talking about the portal, the both of them had talked about it before. Danny glanced over at his sister, he could tell she was having trouble sleeping lately, her face looked tired and her posture was stiff with her arms crossed in front of her. Both of them had anxiety about the possibilities the portal possessed, and they were especially worried that their parents wouldn’t take it well if the portal didn’t work. 

He was equally concerned that it would work. “I hope not…” he said eventually. It was something that brought the siblings closer as the whole of their family fell apart. How their parents managed to pull off getting the funding in the first place seemed to be a miracle. Everyone called their parents crazy and dismissed all of their science as ludicrous garbage.

Danny wondered how they even managed to stay under Batman's radar, he thought that something like this would be cause for the vigilante to look into it but maybe the thought of ghosts was just that outlandish that even the dark knight himself thought it to be crazy too. Danny himself didn’t believe in anything his parents published, some of the papers even seemed to be biased somehow, even though his parents hadn’t ever actually encountered a ghost. That last part was probably the reason no one bothered to actually investigate his parents, there wasn’t really much to investigate.

The siblings waited in silence and eventually Tim and Damian showed up after their classes and the four headed to Alfred waiting by the car. 

If anyone tried to start a conversation with Danny he wasn’t paying attention. If he was being honest, his parents' portal scared him a lot. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous about it, both him and Jazz renounced the thought that ghosts could exist. Something deep down in his guts told him that he should turn and run, that what his parents were attempting was taboo and that his parents were tampering with forces unimaginable. 

No one was going to listen to a fourteen year old though so Danny kept his feelings to himself and ignored them. 

Soon they were pulled in front of their apartment and true to their word, Damian and Tim asked Alfred to park nearby. Danny and Jazz took a hesitant glance at each other as they walked into the house. 

[fishofthewoods]

Oh my god I woke up this morning and my Stardew Valley meta post had almost 150 notes????? Hello?????????? Anyways I started writing this last night because @moon-is-pretty-tonight left nice tags on the original so thank you so much!!

We know from the starting scenes of the game that the farmer's grandfather loved Stardew Valley. So why did he leave? Pelican Town is a good place to grow old; George and Evelyn are just fine. It's a fine place to raise a kid, but maybe he just wanted to raise his child closer to real schools and other children.

Or maybe, just maybe, he understood.

Was there a day when he was in his thirties where he looked at his friends and realized they weren't like him? That he could run faster than them, work longer, explore deeper into the hidden places of the valley?

Was there a day when he went to the wizard to ask him for help, for knowledge if nothing else? Did he learn then that his family was different? Special? Chosen? And how did he react? He couldn't possibly raise a child in the valley if they would be as strange and fey as him. He had to leave. There was no other way.

But years later, on his deathbed, did he regret that choice?

Is that why he gave the farmer the letter?

Is that why they went back home?

When the farmer steps off the bus that first day, the valley is still on the cusp of winter, just barely tipping over into spring. The flowers are starting to bloom, but a chill still hangs in the air. As soon as the farmer's boots touch the soil there's a change. The air gets warmer. The trees get greener. Not by too much, not all at once, but it changes.

The junimos watch the farmer as they do their work. They're new to farming, but take to it with frightening speed; their first batch of crops is perfect. None of the townsfolk tell them that parsnips don't normally grow in less than a week, that cauliflowers don't grow to be ten feet tall, that fairies don't visit when the sun goes down and grow potatoes and beans and tulips overnight. The junimos talk amongst themselves in their strange, wild language, and agree: this is the one. They're back. The valley recognizes its own, even when they've left for a generation. The farmers have come home.

Things change fast in the valley. The community center, empty and decrepit for so many years, is rejuvenated. (Lewis says it was abandoned only a few weeks after the farmer's grandfather left. Strange coincidence, he says, that it both came and went with the farmer's family.) The mines and the quarry, similarly abandoned, are explored for the first time in ages. The town becomes cleaner, brighter, more vibrant, happier.

And it is happier. Not just the environment, but the people. It's the talk of the town for weeks when Haley does her first closet purge. Leah's art show in the town square is a huge success. Shane's smiling for the first time since he moved to the valley. All of them, when asked, say it's all thanks to the farmer.

People love to ask why Lewis didn't fix the community center on his own. Why Willy never repaired the boat to ginger island. Why Abigail or Marlon never went down to fix the elevator in the mines, or why Clint didn't fix the minecarts.

But isn't it so much more interesting to ask how those things were there in the first place? How they got so broken down? If the stories the townspeople tell are true, the valley was once a beautiful place, flourishing and full of life; why did that change? When did it change?

Was it when the farmer's grandfather, the locus of the valley, its chosen representative, left town?

And if so, what happens when the farmer comes back?

[maridoodles]

Where would you like to go?

👉 Visit Seventh Heaven Visit Sector 5 Church

Get this art as a comfy tshirt in my etsy shop!

[californianedgeworth]

hits your lawyers with my decade-olderification beam (pre- and post- 7 year gap headcanons)

[pisoprano]

To everyone who's contributed to the Loveybug AU: thank you! It's been wonderful to see everyone's takes on Loveybug and I wanted to pay homage to all the designs that have been created so far:

anna-scribbles

thewanderersminuet (2) (3)

bluebrrytea

heartfulselkie (2)

marichouchou

amandayetagain

bklily

Seeing all of the joy being channeled into your art has been a real treat--there are so many ways that Loveybug can manifest and all are wonderful! Thank you for sharing your vision of her with us!

Tagging: @anna-scribbles, @blur0se, @bluebrrytea, @heartfulselkie, @marichouchou @amandayetagain @bklily @asukiess

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC OR PAIRING.

Nathan and Ruben share a bond more powerful than most; mutual understanding through past experiences no one should ever have to go through, and through past actions so horrible they cannot be spoken of. Their grief and the blood on their hands binds them to the STEM technology they created, which has alienated them from the rest of the world— but they give each other the comfort they have both longed for so desperately for years, and that is all they need. They are each other's counterpart; you cannot imagine one without the other, like two sides of the same coin. Through their pain, their grief, their desire, and their regret, they have become one.

anna akhmatova, the guest // bones; equinox // 'i won't become' by kim jakobsson // agustín gómez-arcos, the carnivorous lamb // by oxy // achilles come down; gang of youths // czeslaw milosz, from 'new and collected poems: 1931-2001' // 'extended ambience portrait from a resonant biostructure' and 'migraine tenfold times ten' by daniel vega // a little death; the neighbourhood // marina tsvetaeva, from 'poem of the end' // by drummnist // katie maria, winter // 'nocturne in black and gold the falling rocket' by james abbott mcneill whistler // micah nemerever, these violent delights // body language; we are fury // 'the penitent' by emil melmoth // chelsea dingman, from 'of those who can't afford to be gentle'

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[wolfchans]

JEONGHAN ♡ TO YOU

[p4nishers]

thinking abt how azi was truly crowley's sunlight through the millenniums. like, here's this demon who didn't mean to fall, who just asked questions and deep down he was still so good. and he is alone, he's the literally the emboidement of the first sin, and NOT by his own choosing. he's so alone and afraid and just wants a real conversation w someone, even if its an angel who'll most likely hate him. and here's the guardian of eden, who gave away his sword, that GOD gave to him, without asking a single question, to help the humans under his charge and he's kind to crowley and crowley is utterly fascinated. zira is basically the first protector, not only to adam and eve BUT CROWLEY TOO. he protects crowley from the first rain bc he's so fundamentally good and kind and crowley can't help seeking him out over the years. when they meet in rome, c is obviously far more withdrawn and angry bc of the things he's seen and was forced to do and there's az again, so happy to see him and even inviting him to dinner. everytime they met, even when crowley was saving azira, he also saved crowley by the simple act of being his friend.

[ratstuckinamarble]

Wanted to share a little fella I made not too long ago :P

They're inspired by a plushie I found online that I can't buy in my country. I made it so they can hold stuff, and of course my first thought was the lesbian flag XD

(Materials: polymer clay, acrylic paint, UV resin (only use it in a super well ventilated area! and while wearing rubber gloves, and a respirator. This stuff is toxic))

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones XXII

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Please note: There will be heavy subjects discussed that may be triggering.

*This chapter was previously part of chapter 21 (which again, was 30 pages?? insane) and as I have been editing and reuploading the chapters, I have since decided to split chapter 21 into two. 

shoutout to @abruisedmuse for being my number one on this journey!

tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @vanserrass / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @teddyhoneybear / @readthelastpaage / @positivewitch / @krem-does-stuff / @clockwork-ashes / @carolynmezzosoprano / @carnythian / @runningwiththeoceans / @secret-third-thing / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @thedarkinmansfield / @mali22 / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @moonfawnx / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @eachies / @feysandfeels / @thelovelymadone / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @sinnerrsworld / @gracie-rosee / @stormycleric / @queenofnothing1998 / @wolvesnravens / @theeternalstruggle / @the-midnightwriter / @illyrianvalkyrie / @that-golden-lyre / @ladystarrynight

Find it all here.

Something was wrong. 

Iris had started to sense it not too long after Eris had left; a sense of unease worked its way through her chest and twisted in her gut.  She tried to brush off the worry — today had been a whirlwind and Finn showing up suddenly was probably adding to the stress she was already feeling. Eris would be fine. He should be fine. Even if he was taking longer than she expected. 

She let herself focus on other things while she waited, mindlessly tidying the room, washing up for bed, and lastly, actually choosing something she deemed indecent to wear to bed.

It was a beautiful olive-green gown, the material satin with lace trimmings that seemed to have been made for her, hugging her body in a way she knew would send her husband into a nice little spiral. Or, at least she hoped it would. It was also much shorter than she’d ever worn around Eris, barely reaching her midthigh, and that — well, that made her a little more nervous than she’d like to be.

It was just skin after all. She’d gradually been showing him a little more skin with each new set but never…never this much. Iris flushed deeply and then frowned at her reflection.

“Get over yourself,” she mumbled. “It’s not like you don’t want him to touch you.” 

Because she did. If his kisses were any indication, Eris would likely be the death of her, and that had her feeling very nervous. But she had a nice long robe that would make her feel more secure. 

At least until they talked and she got answers to her questions. 

Today had been challenging in its own way but this moment, choosing to be a little more intimate with him…this was for her. For the way he had been making her feel the past few weeks. For the way his eyes always watched her with just a little hunger and a whole lot of amusement. 

But mostly…it was for the way his voice had dropped when he had made his request earlier. He had asked so politely. It would be bad manners to refuse. 

If he’d just hurry up and come back already.

Iris had been standing in front of the vanity, fidgeting slightly with the thin strap of her nightgown when a sharp tug to her ribcage had her freezing. A gasp left her lips as she steadied herself and the dread she had been trying to keep at bay came back in full force. She felt panicked. She felt — she felt pain.

Something was wrong and she didn’t understand what that was. That — that tug.

With shaking hands, she quickly slipped the robe over her gown and tied it firmly, rushing to her door and yanking it open. 

She staggered to a halt in the doorway when one of Eris’s commanders turned to face her and she blinked in surprise. 

“Oren?” she asked and straightened. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

The general took a moment to scan the hall, empty except for the two of them then took a small step towards her and gave her a tight smile. “His Royal Highness, Prince Eris wished for you to have some additional protection at this time,” Oren said calmly but Iris’s heart stuttered in her chest. She didn’t miss the usage of the formal title, especially when Oren and Eris were considered friends.

“Where is he?” she demanded. “He was supposed to be meeting with Finn earlier. Has something happened?”

The tight smile remained on Oren’s face.  “The High Lord requested him earlier. He sent me here before he went.”

Iris inhaled sharply, her grip tightening on the doorframe as another sense of unease washed over her. “I knew something was wrong,” she said quietly and Oren narrowed his eyes at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Something is wrong. I can feel it.” Iris said and rubbed a hand to her forehead. “I’m going to change then go find —”

“I can’t let you leave,” Oren stated and Iris froze.

“Excuse me?”

Oren winced and Iris cocked a brow as he took a breath. “I am under orders to watch over you,” he said more gently. “Until he returns from his meeting with the High Lord.”

“He’s never had someone stand guard when he meets with the High Lord,” she said quietly, and again, she felt that flutter of panic as Oren’s lip thinned. 

“It seems, the High Lord is angrier than usual.”

Iris bit her lip and then let out a breath. He was angry with Eris and Iris knew without a doubt, it had to be because of her. Because of her horrible father. “Fuck.” she mumbled and Oren gestured gently to the room behind her. 

“I suggest you wait inside.”

“How am I supposed to wait when I know that —” she began then cut herself off in frustration, knowing she couldn’t say anything about the High Lord that wouldn’t get back to him. “How can I just wait when I’m telling you I can sense something is wrong!”

Oren gave her a look she didn’t quite understand then again, gently said, “I know it might be hard to wait but it’s better for you and him that you stay here. He’ll worry about you less.”

Worry about her. As if she cared about herself at this moment. Knowing what she knew about Beron, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was tearing into Eris for not beating Iris alongside her father. She ran a hand through her hair and bit her lip, holding back a string of curses. 

The High Lord needed Eris. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything — but Iris immediately shook her head. The High Lord would do whatever he wanted to his son. 

And she could do nothing to protect him. 

Shame and anger coiled in her stomach and Iris wished there was more she could do — anything she could do other than sit here and wait.

She glanced at the commander once more who only gave her a nod. She sighed.

“You don’t have to wait outside. I’ll be fine,” she said quietly. “No one can come in here without my permission.”

Oren gave her a small smile. “I know. But I am loyal to one male and one male only,” he said. “And I will do as he requested of me.”

Iris watched Oren carefully. So it seemed he knew all about Eris and the way things were with the High Lord. He’d also been a friend and commander of his for so long…but she had to ask, “Why?”

The corner of the commander’s mouth shifted up. “Because I see what he’s been trying to do. And I believe in him,” he said then gestured with his chin behind her again. “I’ll be here if you need anything until he returns.”

Knowing she’d been dismissed, Iris turned to go back into her rooms. Oren had distracted her briefly but as she slowly shut the door, her hands started to shake again. She couldn’t help the guilt threatening to consume her, couldn't help the twist in her gut. How long would Beron keep his son? What would he do to him?

Her eyes flickered to the grandfather clock sitting in the corner of their living space and she frowned. It was already so late in the evening. How much longer would this meeting take?

But an hour went by. Then several more. 

And Iris spent the time pacing around their room, fighting back her anxiety and holding herself back from running past Oren and finding her husband herself. 

She had been seated, curled up on their bed trying and failing to distract herself when she heard the familiar thud of their door closing and leaped to her feet.

“You took so long! I started to think —” Iris started but the rest of the words died in her throat at the sight of Eris in front of her. 

Heat filled the room almost immediately as Iris halted a few feet away from him. 

Her husband stood before her and Iris wasn’t sure where to look. At the now tattered jacket somehow still on his body. At the blood dripping from him. Or his hair that now barely reached the nape of his neck. She couldn’t stop staring, her heart rate increasing at the cold detachment on his face and the dead look in his eyes that set her on edge. 

Iris tried to swallow, to hold back the horror and panic going through her body, to calm her shaking hands.

“What — what happened?” she asked carefully, taking a step closer to him. Eris’s gaze dropped to her feet and the step she took closer to him then back up to her face. 

A beat of silence passed. Then another. Eris watched her, barely blinking and Iris didn’t dare move or say anything more as her fingers curled into the fabric of her robe. 

Slowly and without saying a word, Eris gestured to his body, to the state he was in, and Iris tried to keep her expression from falling, tried to curb the slight panic clogging in her throat. Once again, Eris only glanced down and then back up at her but this time, she saw wildfire in his eyes. The room’s temperature spiked and Iris felt her chest tighten as anger surged around them. 

Eris wasn’t angry, no. He was seething. Fuming.

He took a step towards her, his hands clasped behind his back and her heart started to beat frantically at the flame that licked at his heels. 

“Eris,” she started gently. “Tell me what happened.”

The Prince of Autumn cocked his head as his wild eyes watched her and Iris knew whatever had happened, whatever the High Lord had done to him, it was bad enough that Eris had gone someplace far, far away. And her Eris was not back yet. 

His eyes narrowed on her and Iris couldn’t find it in her to say anything more, her body tensing instead. She wanted him to say something, anything to fill the silence between them, where the only sound she could hear was the frantic beating of her heart. Her husband had not returned as he had left and she wasn’t sure if he fully would. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself that would help him, that would ease whatever was going through his mind right now.

It was as she opened her mouth once more that Eris moved, taking one step towards her and Iris paused. She willed herself not to flinch as his hands lowered from behind his back and knew Eris had clocked the movement. His hands wouldn’t hurt her but it still didn’t stop her from watching them carefully.

They watched each other silently. 

And Eris wanted to reply to her question, to speak, but he was having a hard time trying not to vomit. He was having a hard time trying to remember how to breathe properly. He had lost consciousness at some point enduring his father’s wrath and had woken up to find himself lying in his own blood. He didn’t remember being untied, and he didn’t know how much time had passed, but he knew he needed to check on his mother. He knew he needed to get back to his wife. 

So Eris had forced himself to stand on trembling legs, his wits barely about him. He forced himself to leave the throne room and muster what willpower he had left to winnow in front of his parent’s chambers. And Eris had waited, barely able to stand as his blood dripped from him to hear something, anything to indicate that his mother was alright. But Eris had heard nothing and he didn’t know if the deafening silence was worse than the cries of pain he had expected. Only when black dots began to line his vision had he finally forced himself to winnow once more to his own door. 

He had waved off an alarmed Oren and allowed himself a moment to compose himself before walking in and standing as he stood now.

And he really, really wanted to hurl his guts because Iris was looking at him in a way he wasn’t used to in a moment like this. No one usually saw him like this. He mostly let himself go numb during his father’s unleashing and then, only when he was alone, did Eris let his anger consume him. But he had already been teetering on the edge today and he was no longer alone. 

Iris said nothing as he stood there, only watching him with a level of concern that made his chest feel tight. She cared. She cared about what happened to him. She was not his father and she was not looking at him with anything but genuine concern and everything in him recoiled at the fact that she had to see him this way at all. That his father had put him in this position, to look weak and it made him so angry that Eris went momentarily blind with rage. 

He forced himself to swallow and then do it again before he could unlock his jaw enough to speak.

“My father,” he began in a voice that wasn’t quite his and the flames licking his heels spiked up. “Wanted to give me a new look.” He held up a bloodied fist. “He suggested I choke you with what was left of this.”

Iris dropped her gaze to his hand holding — clutching strands of hair that was — she looked up at his face again then back down to his hand. 

“Oh gods.” she mumbled and her heart sank to the pits of her stomach. What had the High Lord done to him? Or rather, what hadn’t the High Lord done to him? Iris took another hesitant step toward him and started to say, “Let me —” 

But immediately, Eris held his other hand, halting her in place and Iris fell silent. His eyes didn’t leave the hand holding the strands of his hair.

He finally glanced up at her, that wildfire in his eyes. “I told him to fuck off, of course.” he continued. “He didn’t take that well.” His gaze dropped again and Iris’s eyes followed to where a few drops of blood had dripped by his feet. She couldn’t even tell where it was coming from. “He didn’t take many things well during our conversation.”

“Conversation,” she repeated faintly and her face fell at the way his own hands had started to shake. “The state that you’re in is the result of a conversation.”

Eris fell silent again, blinking down at his trembling hands. A part of him wished he’d evaporate, simply melt into the floor, and cease to exist. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel this way. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to think about how much this family had been through and how much more they’d have to suffer until his fucken father died. Maybe then he wouldn't have to worry about his wife being another body for his father to beat down. 

Maybe then —

“Eris?” 

He looked up at her gentle calling, so unlike the voice of his father who had spent the past few hours breaking him. The way she looked at him made him want to collapse.

He was bleeding and broken and there was no logical reason for it other than his father was a monster.

“How — how did you even walk the halls like this?” she finally asked and couldn’t help how choked her voice sounded, couldn’t help that she had to keep breaking his silence. Her own hands were shaking as she moved closer to him. “Let me help you — let me see wherever you’re bleeding from.”

Eris shook his head and tried to breathe. She cared and it was too much for him. He couldn’t do this now — he needed more time.

But even if he wanted to, that thread at his ribcage forced him to stay where he was. How could it not when he looked at her and it steadied him? That thread that had dragged him back here, to this room. That thread was the reason he hadn’t let his fire consume him.

It took him another moment to speak, his eyes unblinking as he watched her. “I shouldn’t be able to winnow directly in the House, you know,” he said with a hoarse laugh and swayed slightly. “But stubborn as I am, I can bend the magic to my will.” He pointed a bloody finger at her. “I think it has to do with you.”

This rooted Iris to where she stood. “With me?” she repeated in a whisper. 

“With you,” he confirmed and lowered a trembling hand to his side, his eyes unfocused. “I had to come back to you. You were waiting for me.”

Iris’s mouth trembled and she tried to swallow back the cascade of emotions surging through her body at his words. “What can I do?” she pleaded. “What do you need right now to make this moment easier?”

“What do I need.” he repeated and his eyes fell back to his hands. Iris watched his grip tighten until a flame burst in his fist and what was left of his hair was no more. Eris shook his head again, his chest rising and falling as he tried to breathe. Her face fell as he backed a step from her, both fists aflame now. “You shouldn’t be near me right now.” he said and his gaze flickered up, his wild eyes watching her. “I — I am not — I don’t —”

What was left of her battered heart broke further. He was physically standing before her but Iris could see the struggle in his eyes to connect to their reality.  She wanted to reach him. She needed to reach him and remind him, that he was hers and she would take care of him the way he took care of her.

“It’s okay.” she said as gently as possible and slowly reached out a hand. “Let me help you.”

“Don’t.” Eris snarled so viciously that Iris couldn’t stop the flinch this time, yanking her hand back immediately. 

A thick silence filled the room once more and Iris watched her husband’s chest rise and fall, his breathing starting to turn shallow, those wild eyes watching her in an almost pained resolve at her reaction.

“You flinched from me.” he said, the words barely distinguishable.

Iris swallowed and she hid her trembling hands in the folds of her robe. “It’s alright.” she said softly and saw the way he shuddered at the two words. “You — you surprised me. That’s all.” 

He took a step towards her and Iris froze, waiting as he breathed more deeply, the flame licking his body seeming to flare and then shrink with each breath. “I’m — I’m sorry.” he said, his voice guttural. “I need — I — I need —”

“You need a moment.” she said as his body shook and she fought every instinct to reach out again. She — she wanted to hold him, needed to. But he wasn’t there yet. He was still finding his way back to himself. So she tried to reassure him from their six feet of distance. “That’s alright. Why don’t you go change?”

He nodded and blinked at her, his gaze still unfocused. “Shower.”

“Okay.” she said and nodded carefully. “I’ll — I’ll ask for some tea.”

But her husband just stared at her. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t.”

“Stay.” he said then repeated, “Don't go anywhere.”

Iris gave him a tentative smile, trying and failing to hide how deep her worry ran. She tightened her grip on her robe so she wouldn’t reach out to him again. “I’m not going anywhere, Eris. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

She watched him as he watched her and again felt that tug in her ribcage that she didn’t understand as Eris swallowed hard then slowly, as if he was forcing himself to, he walked away from her and into their bathroom.

The door shut behind him and Iris’s face fell. How badly had that…conversation gone? She had no doubt her own father had played a part in it after the way Eris humiliated him but to what extent? How many more gifts had Beron given Eris? Letting out a shaky breath, her eyes fell to the drops of blood that had left a trail behind him.

An icy rage blinded her momentarily and Iris wanted nothing more than to find the High Lord and stab him violently until he choked on his own blood. Until he had enough wounds to make up for the ones he put on his son even if it would never be enough. The world would be a better place when the time came and he was gone. 

The sound of the water running had her blinking back to reality and Iris forced herself to snap into action and move. 

It didn’t slip her mind that earlier in the day, their situations had been the opposite and Iris wanted nothing more than to erase the anger and the shame that tied both of them to shitty fathers. 

She knew Eris was…not himself yet. She knew he needed a way back and Iris needed to believe that there was a way out of this — this darkness they were surrounded in. There had to be. 

No one deserved to live like this and as she wiped away any signs of his bleeding heart, Iris knew she would give him whatever he needed. Anything that would be a bright light for him on an otherwise dark night. So she had the tea tray ready with a bottle of hard liquor seated right next to it. Most importantly, she had tried to discreetly have her healing salves ready if he felt comfortable enough for her to touch him. 

She waited, too restless to sit, and paced between the sitting table and hovering by the door of the bathroom, listening in case — Iris wasn’t sure in case of what but was sure she wanted to be close by. 

Iris had just moved away from the door again when it finally opened and she immediately turned to find Eris standing in his sleeping attire. She tried not to frown at how tense his body still was and her eyes roamed his face.

“I have the tea.” she said quietly. “And um, alcohol.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up a millimeter before his expression shifted to the blank one she hated and he walked over to her, stopping a few feet away.

She waited, letting him take his time as he glanced down at his feet and then back up at her, his anger still lingering around him.

He watched her, his hands at his sides. “I made you flinch away from me.”

“You were angry.” she said simply. 

“I would never harm you, Iris.” 

His tone offered no argument and the corner of her own mouth curled up. Anger towards her had typically only meant one thing but she knew, deep in her weary bones, that Eris would never hurt her. 

So Iris took a step closer to him and made sure she met his gaze as she replied in a tone that also offered no argument, “I know.” she said. “Your anger wasn’t towards me.”

His nostrils flared at the reminder and Iris almost regretted saying anything but then he took another step closer to her. “No. It wasn’t,” he said and Iris let her gaze drop to his hands that were clenching and unclenching at his sides. “After…events like this, I usually…am alone. To process.”

The words, the resignation in them, made her ache. Iris wondered how many times he’d had to process alone, with no one to share this burden with.

She looked up again and took one more step toward him as she slowly held out her hands. “Well, you’re not alone anymore,” she said quietly and watched as his gaze dropped to her open hands. “I’m here.”

“Yes. You are.” he said so softly that it made Iris’s heart twist. It took him a moment and she felt his hesitation, as if afraid to touch her but she waited. She waited as he clenched and then unclenched his hands once more before he slid his hands into hers. 

“I’m here to listen if you want to talk about it,” she said as softly as he had spoken. “If not, I’m still here.”

His grip on her hands had tightened and she watched as his breath quickened for a moment, working his jaw. “I will. I have to,” he said hoarsely. “Or I will lose my mind.”

“Okay.” she simply said even as her chest tightened at the slight tremble in his hands. “I can’t have you losing your mind over anything except me, can I now?”

Eris tried to smile at her but it turned more into a grimace and Iris gave him a small smile of her own, wanting to bring him some sense of ease. She glanced down at their intertwined hands and let her thumb caress the back of his hand gently. “I don’t think I ever actually told you but…” she met his gaze. “I like how your hands feel holding mine. I have since that day I met the puppies for the first time and you told me I have lovely hands.”

She watched the Prince of Autumn shudder at the words and it took him another moment before he could answer her. “Not puppies,” he said and Iris couldn’t help her small smile, especially as he continued in words so quiet, she almost missed them. “I like how your hands feel in mine too.” 

“I bet you do.” she said and again, the corner of his mouth lifted but this time, it remained curled up, and again, Iris couldn't stop staring at him. He may look a little different with the sloppy cut he had been given but it didn’t change the feeling that was spreading in her chest. She loved it when he smiled, especially if she was the reason. She liked his wicked mouth too much. 

Iris made to move towards the table but Eris’s grip tightened on her and she turned to find his expression tense, his body rigid.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m only getting you a drink.” she said gently and Eris swallowed then gave a small nod and squeezed her hands once more before reluctantly letting go. Iris couldn't help the way she softened at the way he watched her, as though she was his tether to his way home. 

How many times had he needed someone but had suffered alone? How many times had she been in the same scenario? It made her wonder how often had they shared a moment like this in their separate lives…two sides of the same miserable fucken coin indeed.

The thought exhausted her and with a swallow, Iris pulled away to turn to the table, feeling his eyes on her. As if she’d disappear if he blinked. She opted for the alcohol and filled both teacups to the brim. She may have the power to heal but with wounds that ran as deep as her husband’s…she wasn’t sure if she would be enough. 

She carefully handed him his teacup and stood opposite him as they glanced at one another. 

They did so much watching one another. So much observing. They exchanged so much without saying a word and Iris wondered if he could hear the way her blood was pumping so loudly in her ears. If he knew she could hear the rapid beating of his heart. 

She gestured with her chin. “Drink.”

He glanced down at the cup in his hand and then looked up with a quirked brow. “This isn’t tea.”

“I think we need something a little stronger tonight.” she said gently and Eris gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes before lifting the cup in a mock salute and knocking it back. 

Iris switched their cups and handed him hers with a small smile at the dry chuckle that escaped him before he drank it as well. But her expression immediately fell as his body gave a shudder followed by a small grunt of pain and Iris’s grip tightened on her cup.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered and the apology seemed to dim any momentary lightness Eris had experienced. 

“For what.” he said dryly. 

“For whatever happened. For all of it.” she continued and Iris tried not to fidget beneath his gaze. “For anything that I might’ve had to do with it.”

Eris stared at her in silence, his expression tight, and the only sound in the room was the tapping of his fingers against his cup. What seemed like a lifetime later, he reached out to take the empty teacup from her hands and turned from her to place them back on the table.

He stood like this for several quiet moments and it made Iris tense again, wondering if he needed more time. If she should’ve backed off and let him be alone. Even if that was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted —

“My father wanted you with me for this little meeting.” Eris finally said and Iris blinked. 

“Why?”

Eris turned to face her again and leaned against the table. She didn’t miss the way, a second later, he moved a slight inch to avoid his back making contact. 

“You see,” he began and glanced down at his hands. “He found out about my lovely encounter with your father and didn’t quite like that.” His hands slowly clenched into fists as he spoke. “The High Lord wanted you on your knees apologizing to your father. At your father’s request, of course.”

“What?” she croaked.

“But my father also wanted me to apologize to your father for beating him. Because I did it for you,” he said and then gave her a dry smile. “And well, the High Lord can’t have his son beating people for his wife now, can he? The only person the High Lord’s son should be beating is his own wife.”

Iris’s fingers dug into the folds of her robe as anger and shame washed over her once more. For the audacity of her father and the cruelty of his. 

“He doesn’t deserve an apology,” she said through clenched teeth. “He deserves death.”

“I agree.” Eris said and he slowly made his way over to her, the room heating again with each step. “Which is why my father tied me to a flogging pole and whipped me within an inch of my life. Because I told him that my wife apologizes to no one and I certainly do not apologize to anyone either, especially filth.” he snarled softly and straightened with an angry wince. “So do me a favor? Do not apologize for their choices ever again. My wife doesn’t apologize for things she had no hand in.”

Horror slammed into her as she stared at Eris, fully engulfed in his own flame. At the way he had so casually admitted what his father had done.

“He — he whipped you?” she whispered and watched his body tense again, the temperature in the room spiking once more. 

“Yes. But before that, I broke both of your father’s legs and his face again.” he said and Iris saw his fists clench again. “So that makes us somewhat even.”

“Eris…” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. How can he ask her not to apologize when she was the reason he was hurt? When it was because of her father that he had been pulled so far away from himself.

And she hated how it fell silent between them again. She hated that he felt this way. That he was made to be feeling this level of anger and despair. As if every word that fell from his mouth took too much effort, too much work. 

Iris hadn’t realized how desperately she wanted to make him feel better. To bring back that stupid smirk she pretended to hate so much. She wanted to —

“Don’t look at me like that.” he said so tiredly and it made her ache. With a shake of his head and a deep breath, his flame went out, and he turned away from her, moving towards their bed. 

But Iris froze and every single thought emptied from her head. 

With his back to her, Eris’s shirt had clung to his skin and tiny beads of blood peppered the white shirt. 

He looked over his shoulder, meeting her horrified gaze, and immediately looked away from her, his shoulders tensing as he lowered himself to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Don’t.”

“Eris, you’re bleeding again.” 

“I know.” he managed then rubbed a hand down his face. “Just please stop looking at me like that.”

Iris bit the inside of her mouth, outraged on his behalf and hating that he felt embarrassed by any of it. She willed herself to breathe. One breath in, one breath out. They couldn’t catch a break. A small dosage of time where they could just be. Where everything between them didn’t have to get so fucken hard the moment they found a little ease.

“Look at you like what?” she finally said and made her way over to him. She sank down next to him and knew her expression gave away the panic she was trying to control. “Like I’m disgusted with what happened to you? Like I’m horrified  that your father hurt you because of me and my piece of shit father?” 

She stared at him and waved a hand helplessly. “How else am I supposed to look at my husband who left me in one way then came back another?” she added softly. “How else am I supposed to look when I want to help you so badly but I’m unsure how?”

Iris watched his throat bob as he swallowed. “Careful, wife. You sound like you care about me.” he said and Iris let out a huff of frustration, glaring at him. 

“I do care, you stupid bastard.” she muttered, flushing deeply, and the dead look in his eyes was given a short reprieve when he gave her a small smile. 

“Good to know.” he said and then fell silent, the weight of this whole day and what was left unsaid suffocating. 

As Iris watched him, she was hit by the need to kiss him. The need to run her hands down his arms and chest and scarred back that she wanted to help him heal and then kiss it all better. She wanted anything but whatever this heaviness was, anything but that awful expression on his face. Her eyes scanned his slightly ruffled hair and how tired his eyes were and her frown deepened.

Slowly, she reached out a hand to gently touch his face, giving him all the time in the world to push her hand away if he desired. But he didn’t and Iris turned his head so he’d face her and his exhaustion slammed into her.

“What happened was unacceptable.” she whispered. “And for that, I am sorry that it happened to you. Because you don’t deserve it. You didn’t do anything wrong and he had no right to treat you that way.” 

Eris scoffed faintly but at her expression, swallowed hard, closing his eyes. He seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat then nuzzled gently into her hand. He hated how desperately he needed the softness of her touch. How badly he wanted to be soothed. She was here and even if he felt like death itself, she was here. “No one deserves what he delivers.” he finally said quietly. “But we still take it.” 

“You should not have to.” 

“No.” he said and straightened with a grimace, taking her hand in his hand. He let his thumb caress her palm as he added, “None of us should have to.”

“Please let me look at your back,” she whispered but he shook his head, his thumb still rubbing her hand gently. Whether it was to soothe him or to soothe her, she wasn’t sure. "Please. Let me heal it."

A muscle in his jaw flexed and Iris had to remind herself that his anger wasn't at her.

“I can heal it myself,” he replied but not unkindly. “I’m choosing not to at the moment.”

“Why?”

“Pain is good. It keeps the memory fresh.”

Once again, the room heated at the words and Iris’s body went rigid. He was so angry and gods, she knew that anger. She had tasted the humiliation he felt. And she knew without question that beneath that anger was so much sadness. So much exhaustion. So much…yearning. For more. For different.

For love. For some sense of normalcy in a fucked up home that showed them no mercy. 

Iris could practically hear his mind whirling and it pulled at her heart because she had started to understand him in a way very few people did. Slowly, she reached out once more and gently forced him to meet her gaze.

“There is no part of you that deserves pain like this, Eris.” she said firmly and hated the way she could see his disbelief, as though it wasn’t true. 

Eris’s eyes fluttered closed at the words, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “How do you know that? That I don’t deserve pain? I’ve made bad choices. I’ve had to do bad things.”

She shook her head. “Making bad decisions and being forced to do bad things doesn’t make you a bad person. You’ve had to carry so much…give yourself some room.” she said and then added quietly, “Unburden yourself with me. Let me help you.”

Eris met her gaze and she watched the internal struggle in his eyes as he worked his jaw. Finally, he said, “There’s too much. It’s a lot.”

“I know. You were ready to tell me earlier. So tell me now.” she encouraged calmly. “You told me you wanted to know the side of me I didn’t like anyone seeing. That you wanted to see.” She squeezed his hand. “Well, I want to know too. I want to see.”

Eris seemed to pause and then his gaze hardened as he straightened. “Iris,” he began and her brows furrowed at the urgency in his tone. “You have to understand whatever I tell you, it has been kept a secret for us to survive. I do not trust anyone as much as I’m allowing myself to trust you. Don’t — don’t make me regret it.” 

She tilted her head and watched him for a quiet minute. “Have I given you a reason not to trust me?”

“No.” he said and swallowed. “But when you’ve been living in a pit of snakes for so long, you’re never sure which one will bite. Things have changed between us but…I have this doubt in the back of my mind that you’ll take anything I say and give it to the highest bidder to get out of this marriage and run.” He paused for a moment and licked his lips. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

She watched him quietly again and it made her chest tighten that even after things had shifted between them, this still worried him. So Iris swallowed and decided to be honest as well.

“And despite the changes between us…I still fear that someday you’ll realize you could beat the living shit out of me every single day and no matter how much I can defend myself, you’ll still overpower me,” she replied. “But I have not seen anything from you that would truly have me succumb to that doubt. Have you seen anything from me to feed into those doubts?”

He paused but Iris didn’t fail to notice how his thumb was back to caressing her hand softly, almost as a way to calm himself down. 

“No.” he said after a moment. “You’re my wife and my friend and my — you’re many things. I — I trust you.” 

“Good. Because I trust you too,” she whispered. “I’ve trusted you not to hurt me and you haven’t.” 

He shook his head and held up her hand in his. “It is my job to protect you. These fists will fight for you.”

Iris couldn’t help the small smile that bloomed on her face or the way her heart swelled at the words. “And I am grateful for that,” she said. “But then who protects you?”

His mouth curled into a tired smile and he sighed. “Apparently, it’s my wife with her healer hands.”

Iris gave him a pointed look and then gestured to his shirt with her chin. “Then let these hands help you.” 

Eris tensed and his grip tightened on his wife’s hands. He wasn’t used to anyone being near him whenever this happened. Wasn’t used to anyone seeing any of his scars, much less fresh ones.

But this was Iris. His wife. His mate. And he wanted her hands to touch him. To fit all of his pain in the palm of her lovely hands and wipe it away.

Could he let go? Let this part of him be free? 

He swallowed again, trying not to choke on his shame. On his fear. He was almost paralyzed by it.

But it was as if she could see it rampaging inside him, could see the struggle in his eyes. For all she had to do was give him a small smile. An encouraging one, her thumb caressing his hand in hers and Eris felt himself straighten. 

He finally allowed a dip of his chin in acceptance and promised himself that after tonight, there would be no going back. 

[fluffle-writes]

hello! I loved the weirdcore au, such a cool idea, i wanted to ask, how do vil and rook clean their wings? taking a bath seems kinda risky, imagine the pain of getting soap on multiple eyes! Actually their self care routine as a whole makes me curious, does vil still wear makeup here? Or he just takes care of his hair?

Weirdcore AU Masterlist Here!

I AM AWAKE AND READY TO TALK MORE ABOUT MY AU :D

Vil and Rook's wings! They definitely need to work around the eyes, but they have third eyelids for each of their eyes - similar to crocodiles! This allows them to fly with them open to observe the ground beneath them - which can assist in hunting or searching for something. It can also mean that irritants are more difficult to get into their eyes - but there are still problems with using cleaning agents on their wings.

Generally though, they actually don't use soaps on their wings! A thorough enough job of preening with clean water washes away any accumulated dirt, blood, dust, or dead skin cells away well enough - and damaged feathers come loose quite easily to be pulled out during preening sessions. Not to mention, soaps can strip the wings of natural oils that protect their skin and feathers.

(Chances are, if you visit in the evenings, you may come across groups of Pomefiore students preening one-another's wings in little cliques - as it's a common bonding activity for individuals with feathered wings.)

As for the rest of their self care routines, it would really need to differ from person to person... I'll speak more in depth about how their features work as well as how they maintain their appearances under the cut.

Vil's flesh has an almost malleable feel to it - it's almost slime-like to the touch but without any residue left behind, while also having the texture of human skin. Looking at him closely enough reveals that his body is actually semi-transparent. He uses pigment sacs - similar to octopi - to imitate the appearance of galacies on his skin's surface, but he can just as easily manipulate light to alter his appearance as he wishes.

Because of this, his skin may be more fragile and need more gentle cleansers and a thorough moisturising routine - which Vil keeps on top of, of course. Additionally, although I was unable to include it in his sprite edit, Vil has near-invisible glass-like talons instead of fingernails and toenails which he keeps well maintained and filed sharp.

Vil's hair is odd in the sense that it's more like liquid than hair. It's quite viscous, but leaves no residue when touched like his skin, and anything that touches it can pass through with little difficulties aside from the viscosity. Touching it can leave a tingling (almost electric) sensation in the hands, and ingestion can spell death due to the toxicity of the oils and hormones Vil's body produces to ward off danger. It doesn't need cleaning as it maintains itself for the most part, but Vil often adds ground up gold and gemstones to colour it how he wants to.

His wings and tail, as mentioned above, are kept neat and tidy through preening sessions with Rook and, more recently, Epel. He has glands that secrete natural oils under his feathers, which can be spread across them to moisturise them properly and strengthen them.

(Fun fact - When Vil was a newborn, he looked more like an amoeba with six stubby little limbs (which later grew into his wings!) He learned how to maintain a much more structured body shape and control his pigment sacs like his father later on in life)

Rook's self care routines are more focused on his animalistic traits - polishing his horns and brushing through his fur any time it gets a bit too unruly. He also often applies moisturising oils to the palms of his hands, as they are similar to paw pads that foxes have and need more tlc to keep them soft and reduce irritation/itchiness.

Bathing habits of his are similar to Vil, vetoing the use of soap on his wings but still using them on the rest of his body. Due to his fur, though, Rook may have a hard time getting thoroughly dry after without help - although he often opts to shake himself off and flap his wings to create wind to help him dry faster. Because of this, bathing has to be an evening task for him - lest he end up with skin irritation from trapped moisture.

(Vil spent a god awful amount of time combing through Rook's fur and applying potions to his skin to prevent irritation when he first moved to Pomefiore - and since then Rook's always been manhandled a little bit if Vil suspects he's falling slightly behind on that area of self-care. He is NOT sitting with Rook in his lap for hours untangling that mess of a coat again - his shedding in the spring is bad enough!)

Epel needed a LOT of TLC when Vil first spotted him - his body, hair, and wings are all made of a marble-like material. Had he practiced self care often enough, Epel would have handled the cold climate in Harveston perfectly well. However, he would often insist that applying protective wax and oils to maintain smooth skin was unnecessary since he could handle the cold just fine without it.

This meant that, once he arrived at NRC, what would have been smooth and well cared for features was instead rough around the edges with damage done by the cold and the snow from years spent outside in that environment. Epel's self care routine is chock full of revitalising tinctures designed to help his skin regain it's strength and smoothness, as well as a special type of beeswax to protect him from any more damage - which is also applied to his horns.

As for cleaning, soap and water works well except for on his wings - which instead has a special cleanser Vil made with keratin-boosting properties to ensure that they're strengthened properly without interfering with Epel's ability to fly.

(Epel himself is a little miffed with all of the routines Vil made him keep up with after he joined Pomefiore, but will admit that he feels much better a lot of the time now that he's actually properly taking care of himself.)

[minty364]

DPXDC Promp#58 Part 5

When he came too he was in the basement.

A soft hum came from the now activated portal, Danny couldn’t help but stare at it, the swirling green was mesmerizing and something in him felt a little different. He thought about what that might be for a moment but he was unable to tear his eyes away from the swirling patterns that called to him, beckoning him. 

“D-Danny?” Jazz said from behind him her voice was small and quiet, Danny almost didn’t hear her. 

He was sitting so he let himself fall onto his back and looked up at her.

She was right behind Damian and Tim who were watching him apprehensively, their hands held up in a defensive position. Jazz had a look of confusion and dread on her face while Damian also seemed confused but there was an anger there that Danny couldn’t quite place. Tim meanwhile looked like he was preparing to steal his emotions, probably because he was the eldest of the group. 

He wasn’t sure what was going on but he looked around the lab for the sink he knew had a mirror over it and when he found it he got up and walked over to see his reflection. Or well he tried, his body started floating as soon as he stood, he somehow was able to get to the mirror and looked at his reflection.

He was paler than before, almost as white as a sheet, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. His once blue eyes were a vibrant neon green, his hair once black is now white as snow. Even his hazmat suit inverted colors. White boots and gloves and a black suit. 

He fell back from the mirror onto his back as he shifted away from his reflection. It was terrifying that he could see Jazz, Tim, and Damian watching through him, he was transparent like he wasn’t really there.

He had really died, he was a ghost, the very thing his parents ranted on and on about every time he or Jazz was in ear shot. They’d rant about how evil they were and how they’d find one to dissect after the portal was completed. If that wasn’t enough he realized he couldn’t feel his pulse and he hadn’t been breathing this entire time.

He was panicking now, what exactly did this mean for him? Was his parents going to find him in the basement and try to dissect him? Should he go into the portal? If it did go to the ‘ghost zone’ as his parents called it shouldn’t he live there now? 

He could feel himself start to break as silent sobs wracked his body, he still wasn’t breathing but that probably didn’t matter if he was a ghost. 

If his parents were right about ghosts that meant he was a monster now, he probably wouldn’t be allowed near anyone again. He’d never be able to feel the warm embraces of his sisters hugs again. He desperately wanted to feel that warm again. It was the only feeling he could cling onto, and it was then that something happened. 

A bright light flashed around him, a ring around his center that split in two, one going up and the other going down.

When it was done, Danny was back in his white hazmat suit with black accents. He scrambled back up to see his reflection and he was indeed back to normal somehow and he was again tied to earth's gravity.

He could feel tears well up in his eyes again as he turned around to Jazz and their friends, “I-I’m alive?” he couldn’t stop his voice from trembling, his entire body felt chilly and he couldn’t stop himself from crying, sobbing as he struggled from air that he apparently needed again.

Damian and Tim shared a glance but Jazz ran past them as she pulled Danny into a hug. His sister was so warm and he couldn’t help but melt into it as the two cried sobbing and clinging onto each other. 

Danny was here and he was somehow alive, he was sure being a ghost was permanent but somehow he was alive and he could hold, hug, and protect those he loved. A warmth spread from his chest. 

He could tell he was indeed different now, but he wasn’t going to dwell on it at the moment. His sister was here and he was hugging her.

Damian and Tim approached slowly like they couldn’t believe Danny was here alive and well either. Damian scowled at Danny, he rarely got frustrated at him but here was and Danny didn’t get why, “why did you sacrifice yourself like that?!” Damian shouted.

Danny took a few calming breaths before speaking, “I-I tripped, I saw you and figured it was too late for me…”

Jazz and Tim looked at him terrified before Tim spoke up, “you mean they built the damn ‘on’ button on the inside?” 

Before either Danny or Jazz could speak up the door leading to the kitchen opened up, “kids? Are you still down there?” Their mom called before heading down the stairs. When she got to the bottom they could see the elegant green dress she wore that hugged her figure. She gasped as she dropped her purse, staring at the portal. “JACK!!” she shouted up the stairs before running over to the lockers to put her hazmat suit back on.

Jack walked down the stairs sullenly but once he too saw the now activated portal he rushed to put on his suit as well. 

“I thought you guys had left?” Jazz asked, pushing Danny behind her protectively, Danny wasn’t sure if she realized what happened yet but keeping him away from them until they had a better grasp over what happened was probably a good call.

Maddie shrugged as she put her goggles on her head letting it snap against her forehead with a little snap, “I forgot my Fenton-lipstick.” The reply was nonchalant.

The four friends found themselves getting pushed out of the lab as the scientists busied themselves measuring and taking readings from their new portal.

They quickly got out of the suits and gathered whatever they needed for the sleepover over at Wayne manor. Danny didn’t really care what he was packing, just shoving things into his book bag. Whatever had just occurred rattled him a little. He couldn’t help but worry that this was just the beginning. 

“That was quite some time you all took,” Alfred noted once they were seated in the back with Tim in the front and Danny in the middle in the back. Everyone kept glancing at Danny to make sure he was okay but he felt fine at the moment. 

“Uh, well,” Jazz started, “something happened to Danny,” she struggled to say. None of them were quite sure exactly what was happening but the sooner they got to a quiet space to discuss they were going too. 

Alfred glanced at Danny from the rearview mirror as he drove, “will we need to take Master Daniel to the hospital?”

Tim cut in before anyone else could, “that’s quite alright Alfred, we aren’t exactly sure what happened but we might have a code lazarus on our hands.”

Danny and Jazz shared a look, they were both equally confused having no clue what code lazarus meant. Tim normally wasn’t this serious although Danny figured the circumstances weren’t normal either.

They'd discuss thing’s later when they had privacy at Wayne manor.