#THAT HURT ME OML...

[iamnorthstrike]

Girls: "There's nothing more painful than a breakup-"

... I was about to beat Concrete Jungle in STN's Hunt Mode yesterday and right as I started holding down F to get on the helicopter a car decided to come out of nowhere and hit me

[mochiiniko]

video game women are so cool

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

Aww <33 it’s the Devi in him fr we love to see it!!

[ibetittering]

About time I made an edit to this song 😋

[hazyletter]

a promise (yours, yours, yours). until the end (of forevermore),

"Here."

Tobio looks up and sees Kei holding out his white beanie, the one with cat eyes and whiskers and cute little ears. The setter blinks for a moment and stares. Confused, he tilts his head to the side.

Kei just snorts at his expression, hinting to Tobio that it may or may not be a breath taken out to humiliate him, but he is surprised to feel hands on his ear, and Tobio shivers in reflex at the warmth on his skin.

"You're freezing cold." Kei pulls his fingertips to the shell of his ear, massaging them between his thumb and index, before gliding them further up to play with Tobio's locks. "Wear it." He pertains to the beanie.

They stare at each other for a long while, Tobio just because he wanted to, and Kei with a silent but patient question. It wasn't long until Tobio raised his palm and Kei laid the beanie on its surface. Momentarily moving himself away from Kei's hand, Tobio secures the beanie on his head, ducking his head, then tries to make his bangs look presentable right after.

He hears a laugh from above. It's Kei, cracking his lips into an amused smile. "Cute."

Tobio immediately feels the surface of the skin on his face grow warm. He frowns, the kind that's a signature of his. "Shut up."

Kei raised a brow with a snicker, before stepping closer to his figure that is still seated on the swing set. He fiddles with Tobio's bangs, leaving the latter to close his eyes and relax in front of him, and when Kei lets go, Tobio steadies his gaze.

He does not jump when Kei leans his body even further and steals a kiss from his lips, closing his eyes as if it's nothing but a habit by now. The surface of Kei's glasses always makes it a bit awkward, but Tobio doesn't mind it, hasn't minded it with how close they keep attaching themselves to one another. Tobio hears Kei taking a short breath between his lips and it is enough.

And so Tobio does not resist interlocking his hand with Kei's, squeezing it for additional ease as they don't pull away, leaving it hanging around the air.

Kei doesn't fully stand up when he lets go, but instead snuggles his cheek towards Tobio's, then moves to his neck, leaving a small peck on the skin that has Tobio sighing.

"Are you not uncomfortable?" Tobio points out his posture.

Kei just hums. "Never when I'm with you."

The simplicity leaves Tobio's heart thumping. He leans his head to Kei's shoulder, and holds out his arms to hug Kei. Kei moves into a kneeling position, the back of his ankle supporting his upper body, and places his hands on Tobio's neck and waist.

"We have to leave." Tobio mutters to his jacket. 

"Stay here for a moment." Kei whispers to his ear.

There are leaves that carelessly fall around them, and when Tobio's gaze catches into one, he follows its dark yellow form and is reminded of Kei's eyes. He had the urge to see them all of a sudden, and so Tobio pushes his body away from Kei and ignores his disagreeing sigh. He steadies himself with a hold on the middle blocker's shoulder to stop the swing from moving him too much.

Tobio stares into those dark, golden circles and lines framed by white and black, lets his hand caress its holder's cheek, and stays there.

"Mhm. Okay. Just a few minutes more."

Kei's gaze softens, whatever he saw in Tobio's face is the reason for it. Or perhaps the unusual softness of his voice. His gentle, affectionate touch. The way the wind still pulled on his covered locks for a simple dance. How the beanie looked on his ever-stoic expression that is now painted with autumn's cold but relaxing messages.

"Just a few minutes."

if you'd like to support this short fic even further, you can support it on ao3 as well!

[lesbian-cowpoke]

I'm gonna be honest I need someone to explain wtf is the DC timeline.

Cause like. I get everything pre-flashpoint. Then n52 happens and my brain breaks.

I'm specifically asking because I'm trying to piece together Stephanie's timeline.

So like. In the n52 she basically never met the bats before and was spoiler again. That timeline carried to rebirth. And in the Batmen Eternal storyline... Tim like... found/was given tech/brother eye from the pre52 future? Cause like it's from the pre52 timeline just in the future? And it shows Steph and Cass that they used to be batgirls in that timeline?

And then. I don't know. They become batgirls again? And like. Steph's old history is back???

Idk. I'm very confused help please.

[might-be-a-potato]

I'VE FIGURED OUT HOW TO ADD SUBTITLES AND TRANSLATE THEM

NOTHING CAN STOP ME NOW AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !!!!!!!!!

Although these ones are all google-translated, which defaults to polite-speech for everything. Which means they have funny things like this:

Which (very roughly) translates to "Porkchop, would you kindly stop messing around?"

I'M DYING OVER HERE PLEASEEEEEEEE

[cir-cea]

I SHOULD HAVE NEVER WATCHED DEATH NOTE WHY IS A BRITISH RAT DYING MAKING ME CRY RIGHT NOW WHAT IS THIS

[life-o-n-m4rs]

An Analysis on the Finale and Aziraphale’s Inner Monologue (Michael Sheen is an Incredible Actor)

Like most Good Omens fans in these tragic, triyng times, I’ve spent hours scrolling through Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr reading hundreds of people’s thoughts and opinions on the season, particularly the final scene of the season in which Aziraphale is offered to return to Heaven to be Supreme Archangel and Crowley confesses his love to Aziraphale after literal millennia of pining. After my most recent rewatch of the season, I spent a lot of time focussing on the final scene(s) and carefully eyeing every tiny detail. Not necessarily around the coffee, but around everything that came after it. I am somewhat on the fence about the coffee theory. Though I don’t think that Aziraphale decided to go back to Heaven entirely on his own fruition, I don’t think he was completely under the control of Heaven either. His ultimate decision was not entirely out of character.

Starting with the coffee and scene with Metatron itself: many people have theorized that The Metatron poisoned Aziraphale with cyanide, which I see the logic in. We saw earlier in the series in the second minisode that poison causes demons���and presumably angels–to act very strange, like they’re high or drunk. When he drank the laudnum, Crowley stops a girl from killing herself, while stating that it was not a kind thing to do as he was “Off [his] rocker on laudnum. Not responsible for [his] actions”. However, Crowley still drinks the laudnum to stop Elspeth from doing it herself, so obviously he was at least somewhat in his right mind. He still aimed to thwart her attempt, so his statement deflecting his actions due to his intoxication could just be another moment of Crowley denying any goodness in him, much like when he saves Aziraphale’s books and tells him not to thank him. So, coming back to the coffee, it is perhaps plausible that Aziraphale said yes to The Metatron because he was not entirely in his right mind. When we see Metatron order the coffee, he does ask for a “dash of almond syrup”, but when giving it to Aziraphale, says that there is a “hefty jigger” of it. That certainly doesn’t sound like a dash. Where the coffee theory starts to fall off, however, is immediately after Aziraphale drinks the coffee. When Crowley drank the laudnum, he immediately felt the effects of the poison, whereas with Aziraphale, we see that he is completely the same afterwards. Of course, cyanide is not laudnum, and it was also, theoretically, mixed in with coffee, so the effects could very well be different. Aziraphale returns to his shop with no coffee in hand, so it is safe to assume that he finished it, and we don’t see any changes in behavior until he starts talking to Crowley. That is when he starts to act off.

If we look at Aziraphale during his conversation with The Metatron, he immediately declines his offer. He flatout says that he does not want to go back to heaven. Not only that, but Metatron tells Aziraphale that he chose him to replace Gabriel as Supreme Archangel because he’s a great, natural leader. That he’s honest and doesn’t just tell people what they want to hear, which is just flatout not true. We see Aziraphale lie so many times in the show, probably more than Crowley, and he especially lies to Heaven on multiple occasions. That’s a huge focus of the minisode in episode 2, that Aziraphale lied to Heaven. He has never aligned with Heaven’s beliefs. He is notoriously insuboordinate. He is by far not the best choice to be Supreme Archangel, especially since he hasn’t properly aligned himself with Heaven, or even spoken to them, in years. This is the first piece of manipulation from The Metatron’s part. Not even necessarily some miracle or poisoning, but he was feeding Azirphale what he wants to hear. He’s praising him to get in his good graces, but that’s only the first half. Aziraphale still says no. It’s not until Metatron presents his second half of the offer that we see something start to crack in Aziraphale. If The Metatron did do something to Aziraphale, it still could not have worked without this vital piece. He offers to let Aziraphale, as Supreme Archangel, restore Crowley as an angel. Crowley can come with. Suddenly things are different, and we see it on Aziraphale’s face. Michael Sheen is an inredible actor and he manages to narrate a deep and painful inner monologue within Aziraphale with just his face. The second The Metatron starts to say that he could bring Crowley with him, his expression changes very subtly, but just enough for us to see that something made its way through to him.

We are deliberately not shown the rest of their conversation. There is clearly something there that we did not see. The only other part of their conversation we see is at the end of it. The Metatron says that Azirphale “[doesn’t] have to answer immediately. Take all the time you need”. All that Azirpahle says in response is that he doesn’t know what to say, to which The Metatron says, “Go tell your friend the good news”, as if he knows that, in the end, Aziraphale will come with him. We watch Aziraphale walk away, and he does not look like he has good news for Crowley. He looks scared.

Something inside of Aziraphale is battling itself in this moment. We see no change in his demeanor until we reenters his bookshop, and even then, it’s not until right before Crowley begins speaking. We see him looking at Crowley and something almost seems to waft over him. He’s no longer scared or nervous about this news. He suddenly wants to tell Crowley all about it.

When Aziraphale cuts Crowley off, he’s suddenly ecstatic about going back to Heaven, which does not at all match how he was feeling less than one minute ago on his way back to the bookshop. So, it might be entirely possible that The Metatron didn’t do anything to Aziraphale until after their conversation. That he performed some miracle on him just as he was walking away. As Aziraphale explains the ordeal to Crowley, he is filled more and more with joy and excitement about all of it. Aziraphale, who, just a few minutes ago, said that he didn’t want to go back to Heaven. I do believe that part of him here is thinking back on when he knew Crowley as an angel. We don’t know much about Crowley’s time as an angel, but we do know that he was an important angel. Important enough to be second to the Supreme Archangel as Aziraphale proposes. We saw a small moment of Crowley when he was an angel and how much he loved building the universe. Creating stars. Countless galaxies that were like his children. But we know very well why Crowley could never go back. So why doesn’t Aziraphale? Aziraphale doesn’t exactly have the best relationship with Heaven. They were the ones who tried to destroy him, to hurt Crowley, to destroy the world and humanity, which Azirphale stopped. Why should we believe that he’s even been forgiven for that? Crowley seems to share the same sentiment that the viewers do–why should Aziraphale go back after what they did to him?–because he immediately assumes that Aziraphale turned down the offer.

Crowley tells Aziraphale that they’re better than that. That they don’t need Heaven. That when Hell offered him a promotion, he said no, without hesitation. Aziraphale rebutes with “Obviously you said no to Hell, you’re the bad guys.” You’re. When has Aziraphale ever aligned Crowley with Hell like that? Especially in the last few years of their relationship. They have been completely cut off from both sides for years. This is the first instance of something slipping through that isn’t entirely Aziraphale. This is not something that he would say to Crowley. Aziraphale says, “...Heaven. It’s the side of light, of truth. Of good.” He has spent all of both seasons of the show whole-heartedly believing that Crowley was good. He has always seen him as such. So, for him to not only include Crowley in the Hell collective, but to imply that Crowley cannot be good without Heaven, is a clear sign that something is wrong. Crowley is begging, pleading that Azirphale said no to Metatron. If we look back, he never gave an answer. The Metatron told him that he could take all the time he needed to answer. But Aziraphale has his answer. He never had a choice in giving one, did he? Aziraphale did say no and The Metatron didn’t take it.

At this point, Crowley can feel Aziraphale slipping away, so he goes on with his confession anyway. It’s clear in his voice that he’s now desperately trying to hold onto Aziraphale. Throughout Crowley’s confession, he plays a tug-of-war with Heaven for Aziraphale. He brings up Gabriel and Beelzebub, saying that if they “can go off together, then we can”. He’s not just bringing them up as a point in his argument to say that it is possible for an angel and a demon to love each other. He’s bringing them up because Beelzebub says flatout that they “found something that mattered more than choosing sides”. Crowley is trying to present himself as that for Aziraphale in that moment. He’s looking him in the eye, allowing himself to be vulnerable, and begging him to forget about sides. What about shades of gray?

Crowley is presenting Aziraphale with an offer. An offer for the two of them to forget Heaven and Hell, to forget everything but each other. But Aziraphale has his mind set, either by himself or by someone else, but it is set nonetheless. Even as he fights whatever is inside of him, pulling him toward Heaven, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do everything in his power to pull Crowley with him because he cannot bear to be apart from him. Crowley would burn Heaven to the ground for Aziraphale, but he’s afraid of fire.

The best comparison for Aziraphale’s willingness to go back to Heaven, which many people have used, is that of an abuse victim. He has suffered at the hands of Heaven for millennia, but when the expectation is that he must feel worthless, he holds on so tight to any speck of praise like it is high above the standard. When Crowley presents his offer to Aziraphale, he’s not turning it down. He is trying to fulfill it while also getting to enact his hopes for Heaven. He says to Crowley, “Come with me. To Heaven. I’ll run it, you can be my second in command”. This line always stuck out to me. Second in command. When has Crowley ever been a second to Aziraphale? Throughout the series, we see them walking together, always shoulder to shoulder. Neither ever walks behind or in front of the other. They have always been equals. Now, suddenly, Crowley is no longer worthy of being Aziraphale’s equal. Almost as though Heaven is looking at Crowley and saying that he doesn’t deserve to be on the same level as a measly principality. Someone who was once important enough to build galaxies can never be on the same level again because he has fallen. The Metatron is starting to flood into Aziraphale’s head, and Aziraphale is fighting to stay afloat, reaching out for Crowley to pull him out, but if Crowley takes his hand he’ll just get pulled under, too.

“You can’t leave this bookshop,” Crowley says. You can’t leave me. Is what he means. “Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale patronizingly coos at him. He thinks that Crowley is refusing because of foolish attachments to material objects, something that Heaven has no time or use for. Something Heaven has no patience for. “Nothing lasts forever.” We won’t last forever. Crowley is offering Aziraphale eternity, and Aziraphale is laughing at him for it. At least, from Crowley’s perspective. Through his heartbreak, he can’t see that Aziraphale so badly wants to go with him, but something is holding him down, so he asks Crowley to come to him. There is no halfway point. “No, I don’t suppose it does.” Crowley puts his glasses on while he’s alone with Aziraphale for the first time in years. He spent years carefully tearing down his walls for him, and it’s as if, in an instant, someone came along and pressed undo. All the bricks came magneting back together and built themselves back up. Crowley opened himself up, truly, for the first time ever, and he thinks he’s being rejected becaus Aziraphale doesn’t know how to tell him how beautiful he looks. As Crowley walks away, Aziraphale doesn’t know what he did wrong. Why is Crowley leaving? He’s offering him what is, in his mind, the best possible outcome. He wants to fix Heaven for Crowley. He wants him to be that sweet, happy, angel he was, but Aziraphale’s too naive to see that he never can be. He’s begging Crowley to come with him now. “We can be together,” he says, almost like it’s a compromise. He still doesn’t know how to let himself love Crowley, but he’s willing to let Crowley love him if that means he will stay. He says that they can be angels, doing good, again implying that Crowley cannot be good without Heaven. Crowley cannot be good with Aziraphale. But the fact of the matter is, he may be good without Aziraphale, but he isn’t Crowley. More and more of Aziraphale breaks through in this moment. In his moment of desperation not to lose Crowley, he’s forgetting about Heaven. All he needs is Crowley. He needs him. And when that plead doesn’t work, Heaven surfaces again. He turns to anger. “I don’t think you understand what I’m offering you.” He’s now bringing Crowley down. He’s using the same tactics that Heaven does. Make them feel worthless so that they love you when you give them anything more. But this is also Heaven trying to push Crowley away from Aziraphale. The intention never was for Crowley to be an angel. Metatron knew very well that Crowley would say no. He just needed that option to get in. To break into Aziraphale’s mind, tear the two apart with no hope of mending, and keep them as far away from each other as possible.

Aziraphale gives up trying to hold onto Crowley. Heaven is in his head and in his ear saying, “Give up. He’s not coming.” Heaven has built itself back up in Aziraphale’s head. He has closed himself from Crowley. It’s not until Crowley kisses him that the battle begins again between Aziraphale and whatever The Metatron placed in him, whether literally or emotionally. We see on Aziraphale’s face and in his body language a flicker between wanting and hating it. But he never pulls away. When Crowley let’s go, Aziraphale looks horrified. Like he can’t believe that Crowley just did that, or that he allowed it to continue as long as it did. Deep down, there’s nothing Aziraphale wanted more, but not like this. As he struggles to find his words, his face is first sad. Afraid. He mouths something through an exhale that appears to be what wants to be an “I love you”, but his face shifts. Heaven takes over again and all he can say is “I forgive you”. He goes from sad and lovelorn to a sort of anger with Crowley. We see him flash back and forth between these two many times throughout this sequence.

As Crowley walks away, Aziraphale comes through again, wanting to go after him. He even appears to mouth “No”. He wants him to stay. He wants to stay with him. But then he looks after him with a furrowed brow. He’d better walk away. It’s better for everyone.

He pushes Heaven back again when he presses his fingers to his lips. He wants to remember what that felt like. He wants to feel it again. Desperately. But he changes again and wipes the kiss away. It’s not what Heaven would want, and so neither shall he, for this love is a sin, and angels do not sin.

When the Metatron returns and Aziraphale tells him he didn’t take it well, The Metatron immediately puts Crowley down, saying that he was “always asking damn fool questions”. Now that Crowley was out of sight, he needed to be out of mind as well. He did not align with Heaven or its goals, so Aziraphale cannot think even remotely fondly of him. He must be an angel again, and angels do not look upon demons with an ounce of kindness. Crowley does not deserve Aziraphale’s kindness. He offered him something great, and he was too foolish to accept it. Right?

The Metatron asks Aziraphale if he’s ready to start. Aziraphale never gave him an answer, though, did he? Because there was no answer to give. Aziraphale never had a choice. Crowley had to be gone, and Aziraphale had to be the one to push him away, because how else would they regain control over the both of them? The reality of it has suddenly hit Aziraphale. He’s still fighting Heaven’s control. Suddenly, he can’t leave the bookshop. Suddenly, it must last forever, because this is Crowley’s shop, too. While The Metatron is trying to get Aziraphale out of the shop, he keeps looking at the chairs. The chairs in which he and Crowley sat and drank so many times. Where they laughed together. Where they decided to stop armageddon. The chairs where they decided that their side was the only one that mattered. Aziraphale is doubting. He almost tells The Metatron that he wants to stay. He almost tells him no. But he can’t, because The Metatron won’t let him. He can’t.

In the scene just before Aziraphale gets on the elevator, the music is a key factor. It tells the viewer exactly what’s going on in Aziraphale’s mind. He is still flipping between Heavn and Crowley. Every time Aziraphale leans toward Heaven, the music plays in a major key, with more emphasis on the flute. When his mind goes to Crowley, the strings take over with a melancholy melody. Strings that pull Aziraphale down, back to the world, to Crowley. And then he takes that final breath and steps onto the elevator. The flute takes over again and the music changes to a hopeful melody, but still sad enough sounding, especially when we cut back to Crowley getting into his car. We see one final look of doubt on Azirphale’s face as the elevator doors close. The weight of his choices are hitting him. But he doens’t dwell on them long because he’s finally let go of the ledge. He’s stopped trying to float. He’s sinking down into the black waters of Heaven and his mind has vanished. He’s under the Metatron’s control now. We see him struggling and fighting one final time during the credits until finally, just before both he and Crowley are completely gone, he cracks an unsettling grin. The last ties to Earth have been severed. His uncanny expressions throughout the entire credit sequence are meant to be unnerving. Something is deeply, deeply, wrong.

So, I don’t think I necessarily believe in the coffee theory exactly, though I do think that it is important. There was so much cinematic emphasis placed on the coffee, but whether that be because The Metatron meddled with it or just as a red herring to raise unease from the viewer with The Metatron is uncertain. The only person who knows is Neil Gaiman and we all know just how much we’d get out of him if we asked. Ultimately, if Crowley coming to Heaven was never presented as an option in the first place, Aziraphale would not have gone. But he leaves with blame placed on Crowley, and that’s exactly how The Metatron wanted it.

[poggermilo]

Malevolent has hurt me in ways i cannot put into words. I cant stand it 😭

[honorary-fool]

Mortal Treatment || Whumptober 2023 Day 2

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

-----

cw/tw: swearing, mention of emeto/vomit (nothing happens though), mentions of a previous character's death, blood mentions (not real),

misc notes: oc x canon, oc uses they/them & vae/vaer neopronouns, first attempt at trying to write actual delirium but I think it turned out okay ^^ ; also used a prompt by @whumpster-dumpster ; not beta read ; cross-posted on ao3 under mimikyu_nerd_69

word count: 2.2k

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

          Archons don’t get sick. They can't catch the flu, and are immune to stomach bugs. Common colds may as well tremble in their presence. Mortal medicine has little to no effect on their divine selves, as do the illnesses they contract and spread every once in a blue moon. Allergies are a different case, as they are not sickness, rather just reactions to things of the mortal world- Barbatos would know first hand. But a genuine illness afflicted upon one of The Seven? That would simply be unheard of!

          But most of the archons still have their gnosis in their possession, and without the chess-like pieces they are much weaker, both in terms of their power and general vulnerability. No one had thought to inform the anemo archon of this information, especially after his gnosis was taken rather painfully by The Fair Lady.

          At first Venti thought of the symptoms as merely his feline allergy rearing its head again. After all, he had been in the city earlier in the day- stray cats roaming the streets were a common sight in Mondstadt (and they seemed to really like him, furry bastards). 

          Surely that would explain the fatigue and the headache and blurry vision and puffy eyes and a particularly persistent case of the sniffles.. right?

          Venti made it to the Whispering Woods without blacking out or injury. With a less-than-graceful 'oomph', he dropped to the grass, and his lyre tumbled to the grass beside him with a low thump. He attempted to sit up and lean against the tree close by, but a lack of energy and faint body aches made it rather difficult. Okay, that's fine, it could be worse- he could've been in the middle of nowhere in Liyue with Geovishaps after him in such a state. 

          The bard closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself before he attempted again to sit up. This time it was a lot more successful, but still left him achy and fatigued. He leaned back against the rough bark, closing his eyes again to try and drown out the pounding headache at the back of his skull. It felt like someone was whacking him over the head with a flat end of a claymore. At least it was dark outside, so the sun wouldn't bother him like it did earlier in the day.

          There were no monsters in sight, so maybe it wouldn't hurt to doze off for a bit...

~=+=~

          Venti wasn't sure when he came to consciousness again, but he definitely knew the surroundings looked vastly different from before.

          He attempted to bolt, fearing he'd been kidnapped, only to fall off of something..fuzzy? and tumble face-first onto the floor. Everything felt like it was spinning, so it was hard to tell where exactly he was, which only added to how horrible he physically felt.

          Chills seeped into his bones, sending shivers down his spine and a cold sweat down his neck. Lights burned overhead, leaving him slightly overwhelmed by the heat and brightness. The headache remained, and as far as he could tell, it either stayed the same or worsened since he blacked out. Everything hurt all over, both from the fall and pre-existing body aches, and his limbs felt like jelly beneath him. He groaned, trying to hide from the light and in his arm instead.

"Taking that as the cue you've finally woken up.." Venti heard a familiar voice call, followed by footsteps.

          A head of teal hair poked their head into the room, immediately finding him on the floor with a sad smile. Of course his partner found him. At least it was someone he trusted to not have ill intent.

"Oh, you poor dear... you're in a worse state than I found you last night," Carmen cooed, approaching before kneeling on the floor next to Venti. "I'm glad I found you when I did... are you okay?"

"Mmh..."

          Seems he had little energy to speak as well. Lovely.

"Shit..," Carmen murmured as they reached forward, cupping his cheek in their hand as they slightly lifted his head up. "That's strange, your braids seem a little duller than usual... Hold still for me for a moment, I need to test somethin'.."

          Vae leaned to press a gentle kiss to the other's forehead, pulling away after a few seconds. Their expression, initially one of mild worry, shifted to one of concern, almost fear.

"You're burning up, lovebug... I thought it was a hangover, but you didn’t smell like wine, an’ I fear this might be worse," they attempted to joke, despite the worry lacing vaer tone. "Hopefully it’s nothing more than just a bad cold. I'm gonna try to get you back on my bed, okay?"

          Now that they said it, that does sound right..part of him wondered why vae didn’t bring him to his own room, but maybe they panicked..rightfully so, but still.

          Venti gave a weak nod, before returning his head to the cold floor beneath him. He lazily watched them as they stared with narrowed eyes for a few moments in silent contemplation. Carmen had carried him around multiple times, too many to count, but he's always been upright or standing prior to.. not exactly ill and flat on his stomach on the floor.

          After minutes of struggling through various attempts, Carmen finally had him sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning against their body for support. Once up there, they started to remove most of his layers in an attempt to cool him down a little bit. One hand gingerly undid the bow securing his cape while the other reached to grab the fallen beret off the floor. He managed to kick off his loafers himself, and vae moved behind him to loosen the laces on his corset. They even undid his braids, setting the hair elastics on the bedside table and carding their fingers through the sections to loosen the braids. Every garment removed was carefully set aside to fold up later, and by the time they finished, all he was left in was his shirt, shorts, and tights. 

          Afterwards, they gently pushed him to lay down, almost pulling the blanket over him before deciding against it.

“Is this helping? Do you feel a bit cooler yet?”

          Venti whined in response, curling up on his side.

          They sighed, gently placing their hand on his head and scratching at his scalp. A sad smile formed on their lips as they watched him lean into their touch almost instantly, like magnetic attraction.

"If you're gonna be okay being alone for a few minutes, I'm gonna grab a few things from the kitchen, okay?"

          Carmen tried to hide their laugh at the pout their partner had, glazed-over puppy eyes staring at them under dark hair. It’d be cute if he wasn’t sick..

"I'll be quick, I promise.. you don't feel like you're gonna throw up, right?"

          They felt him shake his head from under their palm, vaer hand moving with him.

"Then you'll be okay for five minutes, sweet pea.."

          They leaned over to gently place a kiss on the flushed tip of his nose, removing their hand from his head before leaving for the door.

          Venti watched them leave, staring off into space. Maybe the heat was getting to be too much, but he didn’t have the energy to use his anemo abilities to cool himself off.

          So, he just stared at the dark brown door, which then became staring at the darker brown floor, and then nothing at all as his vision blurred. Why was it so hard to focus, was this normal? It couldn’t be, but why was it so difficult to keep his eyes focused- did it really take that much energy?

          He sniffled quietly, rubbing at his eyes- maybe that would help?

          When he pulled his hand away, he saw a brown and white blur against the wall. 

“Mhh…” he groaned, trying to move himself closer to the edge of the bed to see it. Of course, he could only get so far in his weakened state.

          The blur looked..scarily reminiscent of someone. The colors were in all the right places, it had to be…

          They were dead though. He saw it with his own eyes. Why were they here if they’re dead?? 

          Too absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t notice them come closer until pale blue eyes were staring right into his. He tensed, startled, before trying to reach out for them. His hand went right through them, and for a moment he felt the color drain from his face.

“Wh..”

          They’re..they’re gone, but they’re here! But they’re gone… But they’re here…

          Venti kept trying to touch them, to grab their hand, feel some sort of warmth and solidity in their form. Pale hand kept swiping at air, cutting through the image of his late best friend.

“No.. no no no no-”

          His hand shook as he kept trying, until it fell limply back to the mattress, until his vision became too blurry to see them completely.

“Don’t go..come back..” he pleaded, sniffling.

          The white and brown figure backed away slowly, out through the open doorway.

“Come back..”

          The god’s eyes burned, and this time he rubbed at them with his sleeve. When he pulled his arm away, he saw red.

“Carmen..? Carmen..!” he choked out, clawing at the sheets, oblivious to how they left no streaks of blood. “Carmen.. ‘m bleeding..”

          Venti saw the figure slowly return, kneeling at his side again.

“Why’s..why’s it back? Carmen..!” 

          He kept crying out for his partner, increasingly overwhelmed from the light, and the blood, and the image of his dead best friend taunting him with its presence, and-

“I’m here, sweetheart..”

          In the white and brown figure’s place was his partner, looking down at him in concern. Carmen gently cupped his cheek with warm, pale hands, wiping away the tears with vaer thumb. If his eyes didn’t deceive him, he could’ve sworn they flinched.

“Shhh, it’s okay..” they cooed, “I’m here, you’re safe…”

“But..but ‘m bleeding-”

“Bleeding?”

          They watched him raise his hand to show him. He didn’t understand why they took his hand in theirs almost instantly and gently squeezed it- why would they immediately touch something bloody?

“There’s no blood, sweet pea, I promise…it’s a bit wet with tears, but that’s about it..” they reassured him, letting go of his hand after a few moments.

“Oh..”

“Is that why you’re crying?”

          He nodded, rubbing at his eyes again. “Mhmm… an… an’ I saw someone..”

“Oh?” Carmen tilted their head slightly. “That’s..a bit worrying. Who exactly did you see..?”

“Mhh…my, my friend..”

          Thankfully, knowing of the archon’s background, it didn’t take long to figure out who he most likely meant, despite a few people fitting the description of just ‘his friend’. If it were one of the others, they’d be mentioned by name, but because this one wasn’t, then that meant…

“I see…”

          It broke their heart to see him so upset, between the illness and likely resurfaced grief. Poor bastard’s had to put up with so much shit- not that they haven’t either, but there’s a difference between being an immortal god that’s been around for centuries and an immortal elf that’s been around for even less time.

          They pulled away for a moment, crawling up onto their bed to sit next to the god. Vae gently turned vaer partner over onto his other side, frowning at how he winced from the movement. Seems those body aches haven’t left…

“I’m sorry it took so long to come back, by the way..I got sidetracked trying to make soup..” They eyed the tray they put on the bedside table, watching the steam rise from the radish and veggie soup bowl. “I did get the thermometer though…let’s see, just ooone second-”

          Carmen reached over the god and plucked the thermometer off the tray. They pressed a button, waited for the beep, then carefully stuck it under his tongue.

“Good..it’s only for a minute, I know it’s uncomfortable..” 

          They held the thermometer with one hand and used the other to play with Venti’s hair in an attempt to distract him from the uncomfortable sensation. Thank goodness Fontaine made these a while ago- they couldn't imagine how people used to figure out temperatures without them.

          Finally, the thermometer beeped, and they removed it to look at the number.

“Shit… 39.4. No wonder you were hallucinating your friend…”

          Carmen sighed, setting the thermometer down before trying to move the god to sit up against the pillows. He let vaer do so, not having the energy to do it himself or protest other than a wince of pain, to which they mumbled an apology. 

          As soon as he was sorted out, they reached for the tray on the bedside table, deciding it best to maybe get some form of sustenance in his system to help combat the illness. There’s not much that can be done, given mortal medicine’s a hit or miss, but that has to work, right?

          Vae was about to lift a spoonful to his mouth, when they realized he was nodding off against their shoulder. Into the bowl goes the spoon, their hand reaching up to play with his hair instead. Later then, they decided, ‘cus for now he needs all the rest he can get.

[shortdumbperson]

Porters accent is shite just sayin

Like Eric ily but plz no one sounds like that

Please

Stop

[waloeders]

see if i could just lie down while i draw thatd be poggers

[thedonutdeliverygirl]

You know I think the fact that I have back pain 24/7 like some sorta old person gives me the right to talk like one so from now on I think I (and any other gen-Z who has the back pain of a 50 yr old) should be allowed to use "you know back in my day-" bc like I'm part of gen-Z which is pretty youngish still but idk I think the ageing process for us is quicker then it was for the other generationsn

[byanyan]

to whom does your heart belong?

your heart belongs to the sun

ㅤyou are a wildfire waiting to happen. one lit cigarette away from catastrophe. you are passion itself, full of rage and joy and love and pain. you are the driving force behind change, so why are you afraid of it? not all that is new will hurt you. let others into your life. you will not burn them. you do not cause harm inherently, you are wounded. you will heal. i promise you will heal.

tagged by:ㅤ@gnarledbite ♡♡

[otrtbs]

Everybody's Girl. What's the point in bein' everybody's girl?