#and a version of themselves they can't quite reach

[banana-together]

just thinking about house. just thinking about house and wilson's offices and how their decor choices reflect how they display themselves.

just thinking about how house keeps all sorts of random crap lying around his office: his guitar, his lacrosse balls, random antique-looking pieces, little trinkets. stuff to play with. he's always fidgeting or trying to master new skills like the juggling and playing lacrosse with his cane on the wall. he does it loud and obviously like with the guitar and his music on the radio. he wants his items to be seen as personal, as the things that make him up. he displays them so loudly so everyone knows that through being the best at what he does, he's earned the right to be himself as loudly as he wants. to do whatever he wants. it means he makes the right choice by sacrificing relationships, human connection, niceties, because now no one stops him from being 'free'. it's a performance to convince himself that it's all worth it.

just thinking about how wilson keeps a pretty neat office, but the 'personal' items he keeps around as decor are mostly gifts from patients. he struggles to put things around that represent himself, so he represents his relationships with his patients instead. he shows off how caring and connected he is, but doesn't show much about himself at all. he displays them to prove to himself that as long as he has all these relationships, he doesn't need a 'self'. it's a performance to convince himself it's all worth it.

tl:dr- house displays his 'self' to prove he doesn't need relationships, and wilson displays his relationships to prove he doesn't need a 'self'.

[oc-cinematic-universe]

BANGs my head against the wall

[tottentz]

DROWNED AND DREAMT ── aventurine ◟1.3k w.c ◟sfw, hurt + comfort.

the first time you hug aventurine is months after his disappearance. 

you are there when he wakes up, crouched in front of him. it's 3 AM, and you're still disheveled—hair tousled, clothes askew—but he finds you beautiful. you are bright, brighter than the cosmic spark that ignited existence, a single bang setting in motion the events leading to your first meeting.

he should have slipped away before you stirred, fled like always. his bag is in here somewhere. you are the last thing tying you to this version of his life. but he is also tired, and weak, so now he is here with you looking at him.

there's a furrow between you eyebrows. he could reach out and poke it. he knows you would have left him, he stay still

"aventurine," you say, kind of rough, kind of... something. disbelieving, maybe. you don't speak. not for a long, stretching moment, so he musters up the strength to clear his throat.

"hello, friend," he says, and it comes out like a terrible croak. it hurts, the way the words rip through his throat. your face does this complicated thing, and then you lean into his space and hugs him. you hug him so hard it actually hurts.

he tries to come up with an explanation other than this, because he is not the kind of person you would hug, but there's nothing else it could be. he doesn't need to restrain you or hide you from something. there's nothing to protect him from. which means this can only be that. a hug.

your warmth envelops him, one arm around his shoulders, the other cradling his head. he presses his mouth to your shoulder, eyes closed, inhaling the scent of olive oil soap and jasmine. it hurts, a sensation long forgotten.

"missed you" you whisper, and there it is. his raw, sore throat tightens. his eyes doesn't quite well up with tears, but there's wetness, there's something. he wonders if he is supposed to hug you back.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd almost think you cared about me, friend," he wheezes. it hurts. your hair tickles his cheek. you smell like olive oil soap and jasmine, and his ribs feel cracked and broken under your touch.

you are gentle, inexplicably so. he breathes again, unsure how to respond when you pull back, still frowning. "are you alright?" you ask, and this isn't— he can't— he doesn't get it.

he looks at you. weariness and tension and adrenaline pouring themselves together to form one temper to be in, and his mood instantly soured in empathy when he felt the telltale hues of sadness rearing your gaze.

"i'm okay," he tells you, and you open your mouth, frowning, so he raises his hands in surrender. "as okay as someone who just escaped "death" can be, i swear—"

you don't say anything, you don't question it. what is he meant to do with that? someone else's trust—care? delusion? is that dangerous? it feels like care, in your concern, in the tight, hurting embrace, lingering on his skin. what does that say about him?

"okay," you say after a moment. you squeez his hand. vile impressions of himself brought swells of water to flood the cursed well of his glassy optics, something bubbling to the surface that you have to be very delicate with. you sit next to him on the edge of the bed. close enough that if you reached out you could touch your fingers to the center of his chest, feel the warmth of the skin there. he wants to. he won't. "should i ask what you plan to do from now on?."

nothing, he thinks. running away, maybe, away from here. away from you.

"you're so sure I won't just leave again." is not a question, it is a statement, a possibility.

your wrist shook in resistance, and aventurine began to fear his resolve would expel you. unspoken words sat impatiently on your tongue, but you kept the syllables suppressed with a heavy sigh breathed through your nose.

 "no," you say. "but will you consider—"

you stop. he feels like everything suddenly stops. he is doused in cold, cold water and burning at the same time as his stomach suddenly twisted in knots.

"me?," you whisper, the width of your squared shoulders caved and folded your figure into a timid recoil "will you consider me?."

he wants to hear your heartbeat, discern truth. he'd reach into your chest if he could. you're not a liar, not like him

he is not used to wanting. that's a lie too; he used to wanting, to needing with every bit of himself. what he isn't used to is being allowed to want. being encouraged to want. being wanted to want.

you could reach out and touch him. you're almost certain he would let you. the odds are in your favor. it's hardly even a gamble.

he tips, slowly, until his head lands on your shoulder. you don't stop him. you wouldn't. he warms up to you in steps, stages, like he has throughout the time you've known him. his heart sits like a small bird in his throat. he hesitates for a long moment before he wraps his arm around you. something settles with a certain kind of fragility. you are not soft with him. he is not soft with you. but you are trying, and the least hee can do is try too.

he closes his eyes. you smell like olive oil soap and jasmine. it's a clean smell. a safe one. you are warm. sturdy and stable in a way he hasn't been all his life. you squeez him to you with a gentleness he didn't realize you were capable of. that he didn't realize he was capable of receiving. he wonders, for a long moment, if he can really have this.

"don't lie to me, friend." you tell him.

you take a breath. there is a moment between that and when you lift your hand from his upper arm to rest it on his head. you comb your fingers through his hair like you are just as unsure about this as he is. it's been a long time since anyone touched him like this. your fingers trace the shell of his ear, and something in jim trembles. he has ached for this. he didn't realize until now.

"i would not lie about this," you say. he wonders if he can count it as a promise. he wants to. he wants you to mean it when you says kind things to him. he wants you to mean it when you treat him gently. he wants to deserve it, but he doesn't. and yet, you allow him to be greedy.

"okay," he tells you. your fingers run through his hair. he can't afford to make promises like you can, but he can do this. he can offer you this much. "i'll consider."

he is tired. he is weak. the world thinks he is dead. it can wait a little longer. he can stay here a little longer. and if it hurts him? well, he'll take whatever comes.

. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪

[twilightkitkat]

Do you ever just sit there, thinking about Logan and Wade and them together and what it means?

Thinking about why they're so big right now. Why it took THIS version of them to finally get that formula right?

Because it wasn't like they hadn't interacted in previous universes. It wasn't like they hadn't had crossover comics or episodes where they interacted in animated series of other Marvel characters. It wasn't like this was the FIRST time they'd been together, like it was a new concept.

They'd interacted before. They have a whole backstory together, both Weapon X experiments gone wrong (and right, in a fucked up way). They both had similarities. They both put on a metaphorical mask to hide their emotions, to keep others from seeing how desperately they needed to feel human connection. They both have low self-esteem and low expectations. They both were the ones people turned to when they needed to get the gritty, morally grey, dirty work done that nobody needed to do.

They always had a kinship. In some of the comics, it caused them to become friends. To reach a sort of mutual understanding.

But now?

It took THIS version of Logan—exhausted and grieving and borderline suicidal, closed off from the world—and THIS Wade—desperate and aching to matter like it'd eat him whole—for them to finally come together into something greater. Into not just Deadpool and Wolverine, teaming up for a one-off, but Deadpool and Wolverine, where they're a set. Where Wade takes him home and makes a place for him in his family and Logan accepts it. Relishes in it, even.

They'd always had similarities. But in a fucked-up, high-stakes situation, they were finally able to let down their masks and see them. They finally saw the void reflected in each other's eyes and realized they were one and the same. And they fight over it, sure, but they understand each other and it's so evident in the way they interact. In the way Logan knew just the weak points to hit to piss Wade off. In the way Wade understood why Logan would want to sacrifice himself but refused to let it happen.

It took two men at the end of their ropes, reeling from loss, to see each other at rock bottom and yank each other up and climb together.

And isn't that beautiful?

To meet someone who sees you at your worst, at your lowest, and still decides you're worth it. Who easily shoves past your facade and sees the real you—the grief-ridden, terrified, clawing animal that begs to not be alone—and welcomes it.

Who agrees to make a home with you, in the aftermath of it all, even when one of you gets back what you'd had before. Because you realize that you found what you'd been working so hard all along to save: a home.

And you wouldn't have this without them. You can't go back to your life before, even if you love the people in it. Because you can't imagine going back to feeling cosmically alone, to feeling like people care but don't get it. To going back to starving after finally getting used to eating well.

There's something special about this Wade and this Logan. Something that their other versions wanted, yearned for, but never quite achieved. They were their own individual people with their own lives and friends, but were they ever more than content? Were they ever truly happy with themselves in the way we see these two at the end of the movie?

It's like meeting your soulmate.

You were destined to cross paths in different universes, temporarily entering each other's orbit, but always left unsatiated. Until, finally, finally, you get the push you need. To reach out. To take that outstretched hand.

To latch onto each other and let your orbits shift to accommodate. To push past Wade's cheerful, crass mask and Logan's gruff, closed-off exterior to finally let each other in. Let them be seen.

A relationship is a series of choices. Regardless of your chemistry, regardless of the similarities in other Logans and Wades, it's the choices that matter. You can want for something and still not have it, you can realize you relate to someone without reaching out.

That's why this Logan and Wade are so special.

Because they chose this. Wade chose this Logan, out of all of them, and stuck with him. Logan chose to believe Wade, to not abandon him even after realizing he'd lied. Wade chose to be emotionally vulnerable and reveal his history with Vanessa. Logan chose to break free from Cassandra to help save Wade's World, even if she could silence the voices in his head. Because Wade was more important. Wade chose to show Logan his family, instead of just claiming that he was being noble and saving the world. He chose to be honest, to show Logan who he was. Logan chose to sacrifice himself and Wade chose to do it in turn. Wade chose to call out after him, to not let him go, and Logan chose to turn around, to listen, and to come with him. To come home with him.

They finally chose each other.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"You're quitting?" the villain asked and the hero nearly jumped out of their own skin. They had had quite the day and the last person they had expected to see in their own living room was the villain.

"Jeez- yes-" They felt their pulse in their throat and when they set down their plate, their fingers shook. Right. They hadn't told the villain.

It was stupid that they felt - to some degree at least - obligated to tell their nemesis that they weren't interested in wearing the cape anymore. In all honesty, that feeling of obligation only existed because the hero wanted some comfort.

"You're quitting?" the villain asked again and the hero only frowned softly.

"Yeah."

"Bullshit."

"No, I am done. I am done with this." In return, the villain let out a huff and crossed their arms in front of their chest.

"You can't just quit," the villain said, as if they had any say in this. It was refreshing, though. Most people had encouraged them. Hell, their parents had begged for years, colleagues called them incredibly lucky and friends only sighed in gratitude.

But the villain didn't seem to accept this.

"I did. I did quit," the hero said. "I signed the papers and everything. They wanted to throw a party but I declined."

They stared at their wine glass. It was difficult not to feel like a total loser. Because, in the end, this was much more "giving up" than it was "quitting."

"Why?"

The hero took in a deep breath and a sip from the glass. The wine was a gift from their boss, but it tasted much too sour.

"Why are you here? Was it that necessary to break into my apartment?"

"Why are you leaving? We were just starting to..." The hero stared at the villain. Starting to...? The villain rolled their eyes. "The people love you."

They came closer, every step taken urgently. The hero was flattered but also slightly overwhelmed. They could feel their cheeks heat up when the villain was right in front of them, their hand nearly reaching for the hero's arm.

Only now, the hero realized that they had never been in their home together and moreover, the hero had never looked this revealing, even though they were fully clothed.

Their gaze was glued to the floor.

"This stupid city needs you. Most heroes are total assholes with no consideration of anyone's feelings, including citizens. Do you want that to be your legacy? The perfect hero who gave up?"

"I'm just sick of all the blood. And the violence. About not actually making a difference. Once I defeat a bad guy, two more appear like hydra heads. I'm just...I'm not good enough. I can't deal with it anymore," the hero admitted. They stared at their toast on the plate and wondered what their next move would be. For most of their life, they had trained to be a hero. They had given everything. "It just hurts. A lot."

Getting a job, probably. That seemed to be a good move.

And then, the villain laughed. It wasn't a chuckle, it wasn't a snicker. It was a loud and honest laugh. As if the hero had just made the most ridiculous joke.

"You're funny."

"You know what? I don't have to tell you anything."

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to this city," the villain said. Now, they seemed quite aggravated, quite serious. "And you're quitting?"

"Like I said, I...I am just not good enough."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say."

"I am not saving enough people, okay?! People keep dying and I can't...I can't..." The hero bit their bottom lip but it was still trembling. "I can't save everyone."

The villain was quiet and the hero could see how hard they were clenching their fists. When was the last time they had ever seen them this angry?

"You know what? Screw you." The villain frowned, almost as if their own words pained them. "No one can save everyone. But a hero, a true hero, inspires others to be the very best version of themselves. They rise to the occasion and others follow them, not out of obligation but because they...because you...because you touch the very soul of others. You're the light in the darkest cave, you are the water in the driest desert, you are the hope the people crave."

The hero hadn't noticed how their jaw had dropped. They didn't know what to say, all they could whisper was the villain's name.

"Ugh. And now I am making a fool out of myself again because of you." The villain crossed their arms in front of their chest but the hero still saw the soft blush on their face.

"No, you...listen, I..." Why was it so difficult to say anything?

"I'm leaving. And you-" the villain pointed at them with an angry index finger "-better show up tomorrow."

With that, they climbed out of the window and the hero stared at their toast for the next 20 minutes in silence.

[vectorisheree]

"You ever wonder what it would be like to wake up outside your own body?"

Holy shit!? Holy fucking shit????? Very surprised that they're actually acknowledging the fact that Eclipse was apart of Moon- practically was Moon (or is Moon, he was at least a fragment of old Moon, are we counting fragments as equal to the person, or ai, themselves?), since he definitely sees himself as Moon, referring to Moon’s body as his 'own'. Eclipse was discarded part of Moon, an unfavourable aspect of Moon that, instead of accepting it as a part of himself, Moon tore and ripped Eclipse, his killcode, from his code and abandoned within Sun, quite literally dumping his main problem on him (in him?)

And like, old Moon had some serious issues and anxiety over losing his bodily autonomy, being trapped in Sun again (to the point that another dimentional version of him literally ends up killing Sun for his, perceived, freedom) , and I'd like to assume that this trait is shared with Eclipse, who was once promised his own freedom through Moon's, only to have it stripped away, only to find himself still stuck, fragmented and alone. Abandoned, disposed of. Betrayed at the very least.

How could Eclipse ever forgive the man who discarded him and left him to rot? Personally, with the way things are going now, I don't believe he could, not on his own, not without some serious intervention (through Earth or new Moon, or whoever really) or guidance. Old Moon is dead, replaced by a convincing replica, nothing that new Moon says or could say about old Moon's actions would really get to Eclipse, both because of his current general distrust of Moon, but also because new Moon is a completely different person to old Moon, he can't apologise and atone for the actions of another, not in anyway significant, its just not the same. Eclipse holds a grudge against a dead man and he'll never reach a satisfying end for himself. What can he do? (Even in a dimention where Eclipse does get the star, his previous main goal, he never seemed too happy) I think that Eclipse will have to accept what has happened to him and that he can't do anything about it before he is able to move on and grow around his past.

"...Horrifying."

I was already working on an Eclipse rant from like last week as well, what a coincidence, so I'll keep this short (will post at some point this week or month or year) (My wording was pretty bad in the last part but I do think that an Eclipse redemption could be possible, just that it would take a lot of work from multiple parties)

[chuckeroo777]

Laios got Eaten AU Chapters 53-85

Chapters 1-52 <- Be sure to read part 1. Falin being alive does cause some ripple effects which will continue in this part.

Welcome back! Today we continue where the anime cut off. We'll be going all the way to right before the final confrontation. (Mainly because I haven't figured out how to resolve that yet. I might do two versions, a good end, and a bad end.)

Let's get going! Massive spoiler warning for canon, if it wasn't obvious.

Chapter 53-54:

Same as canon.

Chapter 55:

Everything is mostly the same except Laios shows up instead of Falin. When escaping, Laios is much less gentle with Thistle.

Falin gets turned into a gnome by the giant changling. She is quite smitten by ogre Marcille, though she tries to hide it.

While Seshi and Chilchuck prepare the burgers, Falin assists with the ointment. With her healing expertise, it turns out even better, and she prevents Senshi from using it to cook.

Chapter 56:

Chilchuck has been noticeably grumpier than usual. Not only has Marcille been bugging him about his wife, but the tension between Marcille and Falin is really getting on his nerves. As before, he claims to have cheated to shut her up.

They spot the bicorn and Falin looks it up in the guide. They come up with the plan to be sinful.

When doing envy, Marcille can't help but be annoyed how Chilchuck has been giving her and Falin such judgemental looks, but then he goes and flirts with Senshi.

Without Laios, greed is a little tricky. Falin yoinks Ambrosia, and plays keep-away for a bit. She's giggling so much, she nearly forgets about the bicorn.

Then Lust gets brought up. Chilchuck and Izutsumi stare at Falin and Marcille, but before they can defend themselves, Senshi points out that it isn't lust when it's between two people who respect each other. Marcille then tentatively suggests that maybe Chilchuck's infidelity counts.

After Chilchuck gets attacked, Falin and Senshi rush into action. Falin can't body check it, but a mace to the face has the same effect. They manage to restrain it, then Senshi beheads it.

Falin is very impressed by Marcille's romantic acumen. Chilchuck is mostly left wondering why the romance expert is having such trouble admitting her feelings.

Chapter 57:

The dullahan is a type of ghost, so Falin has no trouble warding it off.

Much to Marcille's chagrin, Senshi decides to start with the head, since those parts don't preserve as well as the muscle.

Chapter 58-59:

When Senshi is discovered, it's Chilchuck who fills the party in about succubi. Unlike Laios, Falin doesn't rush off to grab milk, but she does start sweating profusely.

Thanks to there being three of them conscious in the room, they last a bit longer against the succubi, but when a succubus appears targeting Falin, things quickly break down.

Falin's succubus... is Marcille. But not merely Marcille. Due to a rather lonely childhood, Falin has a few fetishes she had been repressing. The succubus reflecting them for all to see. If she hadn't had her life force drained, she would probably have fainted from the shame and embarrassment.

Izutsumi saves the day, and everyone slowly recovers.

Marcille and Falin are mortified, and can barely even look at each other. Chilchuck finally reaches his breaking point and demands that the two of them talk about their feelings instead of continuing to bottle them up.

They end up having a heartwarming conversation where they confess their feelings. Marcille confesses that she always felt caring and protective of Falin, but the strangely fluctuating age gap made her way too uncomfortable to admit she was developing romantic feelings. But now that they are both adults, she wants to give this a try. Falin confesses that she always admired Marcille and wanted to get closer, but Marcille kept (unintentionally) rejecting her advances, so she just assumed she wasn't into her, which is why she stopped trying. Falin is so glad she was wrong. The two share a loving hug.

Chilchuck is happy for them to finally have these feelings out in the open, and they don't seem to be the sort that used to cause issues in his old groups. However, as the resident dad, he puts his foot down and insists that until this adventure is over, no sleeping together.

Speaking of sleeping together, that reminds Marcille of the dream she had while unconscious.

Chapter 60:

Marcille's dream with the Lion is similar to Laios', but with a few key differences.

Instead of appealing to Laios' care for the monsters and environment, the lion talks about how it IS the power of the dungeon. The power that the ancients discovered and misused. The very power that Marcille has desperately been looking for.

This is all very tempting for her, but she's still uncertain about becoming queen of the golden country, so the lion creates the hypothetical dream.

Marcille 'wakes' to find herself in bed with Falin. After changing out of their pajamas, they explore with the lion. Marcille's kingdom is a place where all the races are treated equally, with magic prolonging their lives to match hers.

She has also incorporated her ideas about a 'safe dungeon', expanding on the golden country's monster domestication to allow the harvesting of all sorts of useful things. Laios is in charge of this program.

Overall, it's all very nice and reasonable. As the audience, we know the lion will actually convince her to try and envelop the world, but for now the scope is realistic.

Marcille doesn't remember most of the dream, but relates that the lion is watching them through Falin's pearlipede. She talks a little about the 'safe dungeon' stuff, but keeps the whole age equalization thing close to her chest. And of course, beware the canaries.

Chapter 61:

Mostly the same, though Kabru's reaction to having to eat monsters is a little less severe. He hates it, but Falin and her group seemed sane enough. He isn't worried about going insane like Laios, he's just severely repulsed by it.

Kabru's nightmare is about the Laigon, stalking and hunting him down before eating him whole. Somehow, despite the massive changes, Kabru still manages to be disgusted yet intrigued about Laios.

Chapter 62:

The first half is identical, with Mithrun's story.

But when they start talking about Falin, that's when they get a bit confused. Despite Kabu's skill, he couldn't get a good read on Falin's desires. She is friendly and kind and thinks monsters are neat, but he's really unsure what would happen if she became lord of the dungeon. The only strong desire Kabru could identify was her unyielding determination to save her brother.

Mithrun begins to suspect that Falin isn't the one the demon is targeting, but unfortunately, Kabru doesn't know enough about the rest of the party to deduce who it could be.

Once the bell goes off, Kabru isn't worried about Falin, but with the demon involved, and so many unknown variables, he decides to go after them.

Chapter 63:

Falin's pearlipede leads them to Thistle's house, and they cautiously make their way in after shooting the bird.

The phoenix proves difficult, but Falin's flame wards buy them enough time to realize it's keeping its distance from the table with the bodies. They manage to weaponize Yaad and defeat and eat the bird.

Chapter 64-65:

Marcille wrenches open the book and they meet the lion. They begin thinking of a way to take down the Laigon.

Falin points out that if the Laigon is hanging out with Thistle, then it hasn't been sleeping or hunting, so her brother is probably really hungry. Senshi points out that flight is very energetically demanding too, and his mouth is real small.

They quickly get to work. The rest of this chapter and chapter 65 are skipped, since they still have plenty of bicorn meat. Notably, due to the Laigon being able to fly, they will arrive quicker, but the gang doesn't need to hunt, so it works out.

Chapter 66:

Between his panicking and self-harm, Thistle takes a bit longer to figure out what to do, since the Laigon doesn't comfort him like the Faligon did.

Chapter 67:

As they watch Thistle and the Laigon arrive, Falin is having second thoughts. Seeing him again is making her think about the plan to eat the dragon parts later. After all, isn't this exactly what Laios always wanted? But can he even survive on the surface like that? What if they save and restore him... and he's furious with her for ruining his dream.

The Laigon takes the bait and excitedly (and messily) devours the bicorn curry and rice. He then curls up and goes to sleep.

Unlike Laios, Falin doesn't consider that the chimera might have more than one brain. Tears in her eyes, she carefully approaches, and swings her mace-staff with all her might.

Falin breaks down crying. Marcille sees the results, and heals Laios' fractured head without reviving him. Now he's just sleeping. After a group hug to comfort her, Falin redoubles her determination, and they go to confront Thistle.

Chapter 68:

Identical, other than some slight name-drop changes.

Chapter 69:

Marcille has long term plans for being dungeon lord, but for now they plan to just use it to help Laios.

Falin isn't surprised to hear that Marcille is a half-elf. She suspected for a while. However, Thistle's callous taunting quickly pisses her off, and when he mentions the sterility, he nearly falls over as a stone spike erupts through the table and nearly impales him.

Infuriated, Thistle warps the room and unleashes the dragons.

The rest of the chapter plays out the same, with everyone getting separated. Falin escapes to the shelf, but everyone else gets got.

Chapter 70:

As the dragons begin fighting each other, Falin hides behind some bowls and starts chanting something while keeping an eye on Thistle.

Once he is distracted shouting orders at the dragons, she takes careful aim with her staff, and unleashes her spell, teleporting right behind Thistle, and disarming him. She may not be as burly as Laios, but Falin is a tough girl, and is easily able to overpower the elf twink.

Chapter 71:

She ties him up to her back and starts retrieving everyone's bodies.

Thistle cries fraud, and Falin explains that teleportation is actually a fairly recent invention. No wonder Thistle was terrified of Mithrun. This is the sort of magic not even the ancients were aware of.

Falin is still furious at Thistle, but decides to make a deal with him. He may choose. Either she kills him, and the party does as they please, or he may dispel the dragons and restore the room, and remain as their prisoner. If he does this, he has her word that they will do nothing to harm the people of the golden country.

Chapter 72:

Thistle, terrified what they may do to his people (An empty implied threat, but Thistle doesn't know that), reluctantly agrees. She lets him have his book just long enough to dispel his magic (Under threat that she'll teleport a rock into his head if he doesn't return it right away. Another empty threat), then she ties him up again, using proper rope, so he can't even move.

Falin revives the rest of the party. Marcille is very distraught that she died, and hugs Falin tightly. They are all very impressed that Falin managed to pull it off.

The lion is miffed that it can't feed on Thistle's desires while its current marks are watching. To make matters worse, Marcille is in no hurry to unseal the book, slamming it shut so she can rest after being revived.

Marcille and Falin talk about half-elves while Isutsumi and Chilchuck go grab drinks. Thistle continues to seethe.

Senshi prepares the tiny green dragon. He doesn't have the plant nectar, but it still turns out great. They feed some to the tied up Thistle. He reluctantly admits it's pretty good.

The gang take shifts over the night to watch the prisoner. As a curse of immortality person, Thistle doesn't need to sleep.

Chapter 73-74:

Marcille wakes up with a massive hangover. For a moment, she conflates a dream she had with last night, and panics that her first 'time' with Falin wasn't in her right mind.

Kabru arrives with the canaries. No one knows about Marcille's black magic, and Falin is pretty reasonable, so Kabru is optimistic about this meeting between them and the canaries.

Izutsumi and Marcille hide upstairs, Senshi prepares tea stuff, and Thistle sits in the corner, still seething.

Negotiations... go shockingly well! The canaries are impressed they were able to capture Thistle alive, and after a little questioning, it's clear Falin hasn't fallen under the dungeon's spell. They are a little grossed out by the bavarois, but most adventurers are a little weird.

When Falin mentions the lion, Kabru asks for permission to explain the danger. After all, the reason demon discussion is banned is to hide the existence of wish granting, and they already know about that part.

With Chilchuck and Kabru's help, Falin ends up coming to a very satisfactory deal with the elves. They will hand over Thistle and the books, on the condition that the canaries' forces provide all the assistance they can in preserving, transporting, and eating Laios. Falin is even able to cite the phoenix as evidence that this plan is viable.

Falin and Pattadol shake on it, and everyone is excited that the danger has passed.

Unfortunately, this premature happy ending is disrupted by something everyone forgot about.

Falin's pearlipede is privy to this entire conversation. And so is the lion. It manages to pop out of the unsealed half, and warns Marcille about the canaries, fueling her fear, and when Mithrun breaks into her room as the negotiations are being finalized, Marcille panics and unseals the lion.

Chapter 75:

Chaos erupts in the house as no one is quite sure what is going on. The canaries rush upstairs to help Mithrun, but they fail to stop Marcille before she declares her lordship.

The canaries are attacked by giant spiders while Marcille absconds. She vanishes before Falin or the others can see her. Falin's party heads upstairs to find Marcille, but only find dead spiders and wrapped up elves.

Chapter 76:

They help Lycion and Kabru carry everyone outside, including Thistle. Lycion fills Falin in on what happened upstairs and she is mortified. They leave Thistle with them, and head out into the remixed dungeon to try and find Marcille and talk her down.

Chapter 77-78:

Everyone receives word that Falin has taken down the lord of the dungeon.

When the chaos starts to unfold, Flamela receives an update from Lycion. Negotiations had been going well with Falin, but a member of her party went rogue, and is now the lord.

With Falin's party confirmed to be working to stop Marcille, the canaries do not attack them, instead focusing on finding Marcille.

Worried that the elves will kill Marcille, Namari, Toshiro, and the Orcs head out to try and find Marcille or Falin first.

Chapter 79-80:

Marcille has approximately 25% less longing in her eyes as she stares at Laios frozen in ice.

Not being in quite the same rush as canon, they don't accidentally fall in the water, instead running down the stairs.

They find the mushrooms and retrieve their stuff. The familiars are disconcerting, but at least they are ostensibly on their side.

They attempt to head in the direction the mushrooms were heading, but don't get far before hitting a dead end. As they try to figure out what to do, a massive flying snake pounces and gobbles them up.

The party panics as the long thin chamber begins to slowly fill with fluid. With the mouth clamped shut, they decide to run as far back as they can. Falin is pretty sure intestines don't have acid, right?

After a harrowing few minutes, they are pooped out in Marcille's front yard.

After reuniting and bathing, Falin tells Marcille about their deal with the canaries, and implores Marcille to reconsider.

Marcille refuses and reveals her dream. Falin doesn't laugh at her, but is concerned. She remembers how miserable the people of the golden country were. Surely the dungeon's power can only extend lives through that same curse.

Notably, due to not eating Thistle, the lion is still in its quadrupedal form. The lion does its best to convince Falin and the others, but after what Kabru told them about the demon, it rings pretty hollow.

Falin refuses to help the demon, not wanting Marcille to become another Thistle.

Marcille is upset, and decides she can make her dream come true by herself. She has the gang confined to the kitchen. She'll do it herself, and they'll see how lovely her dream is later.

Chapter 81:

Falin has no idea what kind of monster Donato is.

Operation Hometown Cuisine proceeds as normal, though Falin doesn't have the realization about Marcille's fears, since she didn't pry into her nightmare.

After failing her persuasion roll on Marcille, Falin gets fed up and grabs Donato's hand, then teleports the doppelganger out of the tree.

Chapter 82:

Identical.

Chapter 83:

Mostly the same. Kabru isn't a prisoner. While the canaries prepare to fight the monster army, they have Kabru escort Thistle to the entrance. Thistle is mostly just resigned at this point. He spots the golden country as part of the new patchwork dungeon, and notices it is off in the corner away from the action. At least Marcille isn't putting them in danger.

Kabru meets up with Toshiro, Namari, and the orcs.

Chapter 84:

Ofc Falin also comes up with the mushroom disguises. Toshiro isn't sure how to feel seeing Falin dressed as a big dumb shroom.

Falin frantically explains how she's pretty sure the lion had been grooming Marcille to be the lord the whole time. That's why she's so out of control.

Lycion explains that when things get this bad, the only solution is to kill the dungeon lord. Thistle calls bullshit. He lost the position without being killed. Lycion clarifies that as long as the demon supports them, there is no other solution.

So Falin proposes they deal with the demon itself.

Lycion shoots that down too. As everyone heads out to fight the monsters, Falin is left despondent.

At Marcille's behest, the lion possesses the pearlipede, engulfing her arm, and speaks to Falin. It tries to convince her to join Marcille. After all, don't they love each other? Chilchuck retorts that if you really love someone, both sides have to be willing to compromise.

The lion tries another tactic. It asks about their favorite foods. Falin's favorite food is ice cream, particularly a swirl of orange sherbet and vanilla ice cream. (If she had been given the chance, she would have discovered exorcism sorbet to be her favorite.)

Unlike Laios, who realizes the lion's weakness in this fight, Falin is just left feeling even more hopeless. But ultimately, she decides to head for Marcille, not knowing what else to do.

Chapter 85:

Falin is quite delighted to see Laios, and is sure it means Marcille isn't too far gone.

Things proceed mostly the same, except Falin again poofs the doppelgangers away. As the party keeps climbing towards Marcille, Falin throws out the armor piercing questions. If Marcille is so callous to create fake versions of her parents, why not just create fake versions of her friends that agree with her dream.

Because a fake isn't the real thing. And what Falin wants is Marcille. The real Marcille.

Marcille starts to break down, admitting that the whole reason she's doing this is because she can't stand the thought of losing Falin and the rest of her friends.

Falin gently embraces Marcille, and explains. If Marcille spends all her time worrying about when their time together will end, then they won't get to enjoy the time they do have together. As they look deep into each other's eyes, Marcille's eyes swimming with tears, she leans forward and-

Senshi ruins the moment by explaining that they already know how to live longer healthier lives. A BALANCED DIET! A HEALTHY CIRCADIAN RHYTHM! AND MODERATE EXERCISE.

The moment is ruined, but it's okay. Marcille clings to Falin as she can't help but laugh as she sobs. Falin smiles and gently rubs Marcille's back. Everything finally feels like it's going to be okay.

Right?

Chapter 86-Finale

[ann-atar]

Re: Sauron, iterations in TROP

... or my impressions so far, going in the order we were introduced to them/him.

Halbrand-Sauron My least favorite Sauron! Now I have to preface this and say that I was not spoiled, at all, for any of the first season. I didn't look at anything online except the episodes themselves and the trailers/previews, so I really didn't know much about this character except what we were shown, so my initial impression of Halbrand was, I believe, exactly what I imagine the showrunners wanted it to be.

I thought Halbrand was sketchy and, honestly, a bit gross. Not in terms of looks but, like, everything else. His whole personality got under my skin and I could not stand him. (Kudos Charlie Vickers! I didn't know what you were doing at the time but damn.)

I felt for Galadriel because of all the Men she could come across after going through so much, she had to face off against this rather smarmy dude-bro. I was honestly baffled when she wouldn't be talked out of the idea that he was the lost king of the Southlands because it seemed like a wild supposition despite the fact that he had that heraldry. But Galadriel was -- is -- so traumatized that it didn't really matter who he was, she was going to find a cause and a way to fight the Enemy even if she had to elevate this obviously (to us) sketchy person.

My entire reaction to the evolution of Galadriel's fantasy about Halbrand's character was: girl no, girl please, girl stop. Which, rather ironically, was Sauron's initial reaction too. He tried so hard to shake her and it was almost funny, until it wasn't, because Sauron being Sauron means that he can't help but reach for power in whatever form it takes (imo in his mind there was not much difference between an army from the Southlands and the Uruk army, they could both be turned and/or further corrupted to suit his purpose).

The only times I liked Halbrand at all were when he did seem to be trying pretty hard to carve out a new life for himself with the smiths' guild in Numenor. He was honestly really passionate about making things, and it was too bad he couldn't reach for that new life in an above board, straightforward way. But that little spark, which I suppose we might call a hint of Mairon's lost light, was there again when he met Celebrimbor and helped out in his forge. At that point the story turned into more of a tragedy for all of these characters, Sauron included.

But being mildly annoyed and creeped out by Halbrand!Sauron did not prepare me for ...

Uncanny Valley Sauron The version of Sauron we saw in the flashback when Adar tried to kill him was ... unsettling. Too shiny. Wildly out of place. He made my skin crawl and that short scene was amazing because the tension surrounding him was palpable. A whole crowd of Uruk, and Adar, held somewhat in his thrall and tiptoeing around their erstwhile king -- but why? We can't see exactly what came before but it must have been BAD.

I call this version "Uncanny Valley" Sauron because there was something so off about him, and there was also a sense that he was acting out what he thought someone in his position should be doing, playing dress-up for a day or an age, and in a body that he wasn't quite used to, still figuring out what that body should do and say in that particular role and context.

When Adar made to crown him in front of the assembled Uruk, and he swept his cape around himself with that little flourish, I was holding my breath, not just because I was anticipating the inevitable violence but because he was so ... weird. Seriously. When they attacked it was more visceral than I thought it would be, but Uncanny Valley Sauron didn't even die like a being of flesh and blood, which was also unexpected and impressive.

The Uruk impact the surface of him, they break into the shell of his flesh suit until the real "him" escapes, but because they don't understand much about the nature of his being, Adar and the Uruk interpreted that as destruction, as death. Which of course it would have been for almost any other creature, but Sauron is a Maia and they're ... built different.

At that point I think we crossed over into horror territory, and we get to meet ...

Zhajiangmian!Sauron, a.k.a. The Thing Not everyone liked this version of Sauron but I was cheering wildly because not only does it show that his nature is alien, so far from what we know of the other inhabitants of Middle-earth, but it does something else: it shows us, in gruesome detail, exactly what Mairon, a creature of fire and light, was reduced to under Melkor.

That black ooze? It's not his blood, it's him.

Even in the shadow realm he still appears as blackness, decay, and ashes, even if his skin still burns with some of his lost fire, and that's just awful. Thing!Sauron in the rocks beneath the mountain, consuming any spark of life that got too close and then slithering up and up toward the light ... I don't know if this comparison has been made before, but I'm calling this version The Thing because it reminds me somewhat of the creature in the John Carpenter movie from the 80's. In that movie, the thing/alien/creature consumes and mimics any living being, and it's very hard to tell that the person being mimicked isn't "real," or isn't themselves. Until they're cornered, confronted, and inevitably kill again.

In Carpenter's (horror) movie, The Thing mimics life and can take on almost any form, but it seems more inclined to impersonate living things that can communicate. Why? We don't know, we're not told, but it does have an innate drive to keep going, and to continue down a path of death and destruction for as long as it survives.

Of course this is not a complete parallel with Sauron, but it's close, and I can't help but think that's by design. And that we were supposed to consider what kind of being a Maia is, originally, and how much torture of all kinds would be required to transform a brilliant demi-god into the creature (the filth!) that crawled across Middle-earth with a similar appetite for destruction after Adar's attempt to kill it.

Which gives us a great deal of information on the nature of ...

Annatar!Sauron, Celebrimbor's Lord of Gifts If the black ooze under his flesh facade is him, that means that he sacrificed not blood, exactly, but parts of himself to create the Nine. Living parts, like tendrils forged into molten metal and shaped into the rings, connecting his will to the wearer's, his being forever sundered in a desperate bid to connect and dominate, a power over flesh but also made of "flesh," a power that reaches into the unseen world, but at what cost?

It's almost too much, that cost, and talk about horror! Sauron's living essence was forged into the rings, but near the end, in Eregion, it was smeared across Celebrimbor's desk, it was on his skin and under his fingernails, it was in Celebrimbor's hair. Annatar's corrupted essence is all over him, but in the end it doesn't dim Celebrimbor's light ...

After writing that I'm not sure how to convey why Annatar!Sauron is my favorite so far. I suppose I could say that he's the best/worst one to date, and that those actors together, playing Annatar and Celebrimbor, have created a phenomenal version of Sauron in general, and I'm pretty pleased with where this adaptation is taking him.

Sauron is no longer just the final boss in the spiky headgear we saw in the PJ films; after he transformed himself into this "lord of gifts," he's clearly a Maia who was tortured into insanity, whose essence was corroded and corrupted, turned dark and viscous when his nature was bold and bright, who still wants to create something even after ages spent twisting in the dark with no hope of regaining the light. It's a credit to the actor that we can accept that sketchy, sly Halbrand turned into a version of Sauron who was so nuanced and alien, and a credit to the showrunners who were able to let us see that progression.

Anyway.

I've already posted a lot about this latest version of Sauron, and rather than go over old ground and ramble even more wildly I'm going to link a few earlier meta posts here:

Finale Thoughts: Annatar, Celebrimbor, Galadriel

Pre-finale: Annatar, and Celebrimbor understanding the pattern

The Sauron Effect: TROP's Sauron is a great villain

Durin's immunity to the Sauron-effect

I'm still thinking about the relationship between Annatar and Celebrimbor, and the impact that will have on the forging of the One, and will doubtless have more thoughts on that in the future. If you got to the end of this post or have replied to my meta thank you, I'm enjoying the hell out of this show, the performances, and the fandom in general!

[aziraphales-library]

hello there! thank you so much for all the work you're doing, it's amazing:)

i was wondering (since i tried to search ao3 myself and found nothing), if you know about any pretty woman AUs? thank you so much and have a great day!

I do! Not a complete one unfortunately:

Pretty Boy by SerenityStargazer [E], WIP

Aziraphale Fell, real estate tycoon, finds himself in need of a companion during a business week in London. He meets Crowley in Soho and finds he enjoys the younger sex worker's company. They spend the week together and both are surprised to find themselves falling in love.

"Hey, handsome," Crowley purred, "want a date?"

"Right now," the blond man replied in a very proper, educated accent, "what I need are directions to the Ritz. Got myself turned around, I'm afraid."

"Five pounds for directions, luv," Crowley said calmly.

"Five pounds? That's ridiculous!" the man sputtered indignantly.

"Ten pounds. The price just went up."

"You can't charge me for directions!"

Crowley grinned. "I can do whatever I want, angel. I'm not lost." He stood up and turned his back, letting his arse lean against the window frame.

"Oh, very well," the man said, pulling out his wallet. Crowley opened the door and climbed in.

"For a twenty, I'll take you there personally," he offered.

Aziraphale handed the twenty over silently then tried to find first gear.

Other fics with similar premise:

The (Half) Boyfriend Experience by ZehWulf [M]

The image on the monitor remained static for another minute or so, but then the door to the connected room opened, and the pale, curly-headed figure of Crowley's client—a man who went by Fell at the club—stepped through. As always, he stopped just after closing the door behind him to collect himself, gaze trained on where Crowley's lower half was splayed wide on lewd display. There was a whole ritual of straightening cuffs and waist coat and shifting his weight that he would go through before approaching.

Crowley felt their lingering scowl soften as they watched with vague fondness as he worked himself through the motions. At first, they'd wondered if the whole process was some sort of pre-sex psych-up, or a fussy-looking-middle-aged man version of reflexive peacocking. But, Fell had been requesting them for long enough by now that they'd been able to observe the way things evolved over time: the gestures loosening up, the amount of time spent shortening.

The poor bastard was just anxious.

OR

Crowley works part time as a sex worker at a club, and one of their favorite, most baffling clients comes in looking like he's had just as bad a day as they have.

Dreaming of You by TawnyOwl95 [E]

AJ Crowley likes helping people discover and heal the neglected parts of themselves. Even if that's only for their scheduled session. He likes being a sex worker, although he's started to dream of some genuine intimacy.

Aziraphale Fell knows he isn't deserving of romance. As much as he might like the idea, a lifetime of neglect has left him insecure and afraid to reach for what he wants. He still dreams that one day he might be brave enough to take a chance.

Hired Heart (illustrated by many artists) by GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge) [E]

As a result of his sheltered upbringing, Aziraphale made it to 50 without exploring his sexuality or coming out. After 50, all that changed - he's gay, he's out, and wants to find love. He also wants to have sex. He's a tad nervous about that. His friend Agnes suggests he consult a professional and get some no-strings practice and advice, and build some confidence. And her friend Tracy runs an agency…

Crowley has quite the breadth of sexual experience: he’s a high class escort. He’s been in his line of work for a long time, though in this industry, that’s not exactly an advantage. He likes his work, but the more he’s reminded that he’s not as young as he once was, the more he contemplates his exit strategy. When his bookings manager and friend Tracy gives him a new, nervous client, Crowley finds him unexpectedly captivating. In fact, Crowley can’t seem to get him out of his head.

A Smitten Crowley is also a very silly Crowley, so prepare for giggles and fluff along with your love story and smut...

Seirbheis by Kalimyre [E]

Human AU - Crowley is a sex worker, hired by the wealthy and eccentric Ezra Fell for a long weekend. He goes in expecting it to be just another job. But Ezra is not like other clients, and Crowley is soon in over his head.

In which our beloved ineffable husbands have clear, honest communication, a whirlwind romance, and tremendous amounts of soft, tender, kinky sex.

~Mod N

[shares-a-vest]

Robin and Dustin fight for the passenger door as Eddie pops in the back, scoffing and slamming the door.

"Hey, hey!" Steve yells, leaning over the console to open the door himself.

"Steve! Make him stop!" Robin demands, voice shrill as she squishes her grocery bag up against the door so she can't free up her hands to playfully slap-fight Dustin.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie curses.

Steve hears the unmistakable sound of a can opening in the back and he rolls his eyes. Eddie promised he wouldn't buy beer or whatever soda it is he's obsessing over this week.

Robin knocks Dustin's signature hat off and he screeches.

"Stop!" Steve begs, attempting to move over further but his seatbelt yanks him back. "Robin gets shotgun!"

The duo outside pauses. Robin pokes her tongue out and follows up with a childish gaffaw. The pair stand in silence, glaring at each other until Dustin snatches away the grocery bag.

Robin scrambles into the car, clips in her seatbelt and manually locks her door in one fluid motion.

"You do realise you waste time every single day with this?" Eddie says as Dustin hops in the back and slaps his baseball cap back on.

"Robin has been shotgun all week!" Dustin shoots back.

Can no one excerise any volume control in this car!

Steve shoots Robin a disapproving look as he fires up the engine. There's a crinkling of the grocery bag and Steve looks in the rear vision mirror but he can't quite see what Dustin and Eddie are clambering for.

"Starting next week, I'm making a schedule that everyone will follow. No exceptions."

"What if it's an emergency?" Robin asks, tenting her fingers like it's the most obvious follow up question.

"I reeeeefuse to sit in the back with Mike, Lucas and Henderson all stinking up the car after school," Eddie so helpfully adds.

"Hey!" Dustin whines, moving the bag away from Eddie.

There's more rustling and crinkling, followed by loud chewing.

"Yeah," Robin agrees, reaching in the back. "I agree on that one."

"Hey!"

"I'll figure it out!" Steve snaps, waving his hand as of to wave away the endless mitigating factors these idiots will surely conjure up of he doesn't stop them.

He looks over to his best friend, tinkling the foil back on a god damn Easter egg before shoving it into her mouth. She gags.

"Ew! This chocolate is awful, Eddie!"

"No it isn't."

Steve does a double take.

"Wait, did I send you three into the grocery store with a clear and organised list, only for you to buy Easter eggs!"

"I also bought beer," Eddie clarifies, belching.

"I mean, pretty much," Dustin shrugs, opening a packet of crisps.

"A weekend of nothing but junk food then?" Steve asks.

Although he doesn't know why he's bothering. This is what he gets for trying to assign errands.

He looks at Robin, so annoyed that he feels like his eyes are going to pop out of his skull.

"Did you get something for me to make for dinner, at the every least, Robs?"

"I don't do vegetables," Eddie chimes, again not helping.

This is what he gets for expecting his boyfriend to just automatically back him up in the face of Robin and Dustin being the most annoying versions of themselves.

He turns a corner into the main road of Loch Nora and hears the distinct sound of liquid dripping on the floor.

"Oops," Eddie mumbles.

Okay yeah, he's just as annoying as the other two.

"Can't we get pizza?" Dustin asks, jostling Robin's seat enough that she lazily slaps at the brim of his hat, threatening to knock it off again.

"I promised Claudia I wouldn't just feed you junk all weekend."

"But pizza has vegetables!" he argues.

"Technically Henderson is correct, there, Steve-o," Robin adds.

And for the first time this afternoon, the pair agree on something... They both nod.

"I could go for pizza," Eddie wonders aloud. "Pepperoni. No vegetables in sight!"

He leans forward and chomps the last word directly into Steve's ear, retreating with a giggle.

"Trust me," Steve begins, making sure to catch Eddie's eye in the rearview mirror and of course, he's grinning like an idiot. "You get your serving of vegetables."

A silence promptly falls over the Beemer.

Robin stifles a laugh, Eddie blushes scarlet and Dustin leans into the front cabin, eyebrows raised sky-high.

Dear god, that isn't what he meant.

"I sneak vegetables into Eddie's food!" he insists, shrugging.

"What!" Eddie screams so loud Steve almost swerves off the road mere seconds from his driveway.

[rainswept]

you ask for Fontaine brain rot/reqs, I deliver.

So idk if you've done the recent archon quest and lyney/lynette story quest so if you haven;t be careful caus i will be spoling !

SO

That part where Lyney is freaking out over Freminet and Lynette had me SCREAMING especially since ive done their story quest AND ALSO FRIENDSHIP 10 LYNEY SO I HAVE THE LORE AND IT HURTS SM but I won't spoil all that for u-

so anyways, i started thinking, imagine Lyney has a lover who's been with the siblings for years (and also works for Arlecchino) and is considered another sibling by Lynette and Freminet. They were also diving with Freminet when they encountered water from the primordial sea

now imagine clorinde can only take one person with her at a time when she pulls them back, and she saves Freminet first, later going back for Lyney's s/o

Eventually Freminet wakes up like he does in the quest, but the reader just.. doesn't. Hours pass and the siblings are freaking tf out because they don't want to lose anyone.

(now I can't decide if I crave angst or if I want to comfort my babies so ill give my headcanons for both shiguegoe)

angst: Lyney's lover keeps deteriorating, parts of them gradually turning blue and quite literally withering away (caus you know the water and the dissapearances- yeah-) and the siblings can do nothing but watch

Lynette shuts down more frequently and for longer periods, not even saying anything to Lyney

Freminet blames himself for not noticing sooner, for not getting them out sooner

And then there's Lyney.. he blames himself for not only putting his siblings in danger, but losing his lover...

He sits by their bed watching as they wither away, holding their hand. He knows Father will be upset by his lack of comitment to the mission but he can't bring himself to care

The day they pass, no one says a word. They continue with their mission, report to Father, go on with their Fontainian lives until they're alone and they cry. they cry and scream and curse whatever archons or god's are listening.

AND NOW BEFORE I CRY THE HAPPIER VERSION

After days of not waking up, they finally open their eyes.

Lyney is fretting over them asking if they know where they are, who he is, what happened etc

now to throw in a tidbit of angst, what if they awoke with some disability? like they cant see anymore, they can't hear properly, cant walk properly etc

Lyney and Freminet would devasted because they blame themselves. Lynette would be quick to remind her brothers at least everyone is alive.

It'd be bad because with a disability, they can't work for Father anymore, or at least not the way they used to

AHHEOGUHEOG im stuck in a neverending brain rot my guy

Anyways. I was actually going to request for you to write your own take on this but you don't have to if you dont want- even just hearing your take would be nice lmao

also if its ok i reallly wanna be mutuals! I just found you blog and im obssesed!! I really wanna be friends<3

NO BECAUSE I SCREECHED SO LOUD MULTIPLE TIMES READING THIS !! THANK U SO MUCH YES OFC I WANNA BE MUTUALS/FRIENDS!! genuinely absolutely made my day to have u ask that oh my god??

also don’t worry about spoiling anything for me, i’ve read every little bit of lyney/lynette/freminet lore out there 😭 and i’ve done all of the new fontaine archon quests already (i need help. it’s okay though!)

as for angst — u know me so well already this is my forte. cracks knuckles here i go

freminet feels as if something is off.

already beginning to panic, he turns to you in a hurry. the water swishes in his ears. when you meet his gaze, wide-eyed, the gut ‘feeling’ turns into a full-blown punch to it. oh, now he realizes; he can’t breathe. his heart’s racing, chest tightening and throat feeling as if it’s closing up.

you reach out, and exchanging unspoken words, you two turn around and make to retrace your patterns with haste. hand in hand, you race against frittered time; but even your best efforts are not enough, and the both of you are forced to acknowledge it when freminet’s vision begins to turn spotty.

he got in the water first; he’s gone before you are. his body floats limp beside you as you drag him along through the water, even as the surroundings grow hazy for you, too. a cold tingle runs up your spine as you consider the possibility; is this the end?

(when you had left for the pipes, the most you had exchanged with lyney was a quick kiss on the cheek as a goodbye. that wouldn’t do.)

but even as you try desperately to cling to life .. the “sea” is a cruel thing, and it does not care for your mortal frivolities. (a proper goodbye? .. foolish.) with cold, disorienting water enveloping your senses from all sides, your only grounding thing being freminet’s (rapidly cooling) fingers against yours — it didn’t take long before you succumbed to the “sea”, too.

(your last thought as the world went dark was “i’m sorry.”)

(even in your barely conscious state, you feel another wave of panic surge through you when freminet’s fingers slip away from yours — but you don’t have enough energy to hold on.)

reader lives:

the incessant thrum of the water rushing through pipes rattled in your ears. your whole body was sore, weak and tired; and all of your limbs felt like lead attached to you via shoddy workmanship. your head hurt like hell, and what’s worse is that the moment you opened your eyes, you were immediately met with the sight of the three people you cherished most.

first, there was freminet, who was sitting on the bed opposite to yours. his posture fixes from a slouch into proper the moment he spots you, perhaps in.. excitement? shock? you weren’t sure. his eyes lit up, though.

second, there was lynette. she was .. a bit more on edge than usual. that was .. to be expected, of course, but really. you were out for.. what, an hour or two? come on, all four of you put yourselves in danger all the time. what was different about this?

(what was different was the fact that you were not out for an hour or two. no, make that days. they were sure to remind you of this.)

then, there was lyney. for him, the world seemed to stop.

lyney, who was pacing the room in sheer desperation. he walked and walked, boots timed and in tune with the clocks and dripping water from the pipes. in his nervousness, he had unwittingly created a quite fitting melody.

(the only sounds once he ceases walking are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.)

lyney, who had rushed to your bedside the moment he had noticed you were up. he looked exhausted, but the second you were awake the mask was .. attempted .. to be put back on. however .. it didn’t take someone as observant as you, or even one who knew him so well, to notice that it was placed crooked.

(how absurd he looked, trying to put on a front everyone in the room knew was one.)

why, even, you would have bet that it could’ve been surmised by a child. once again, emphasis on ‘you would have’, for there was no time for thinking about that when he rushed to your bedside and enveloped you into an embrace. you didn’t miss the way his fingers grasped at the back of your shirt in downright desperation.

(in clear, bold letters, it reads; “if nothing else, please let this be real.”)

he slots himself beside you and, wordlessly, holds you close. he doesn’t need words — neither of you do. this is enough.

lynette and freminet looked on, neither of them opening their mouths when lyney buries his face into the crook of your neck and stays there for just a bit too long. he doesn’t cry. instead, he whispers shakily against your skin; “i thought i’d lost you.”

(the only sounds once he ceases speaking are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.

(no one speaks up just yet.)

(the only sounds in the room are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.)

(you’re starting to think those were the only sounds ever there.)

when he finally pulls away, you notice he’s fixed his mask. lyney now smiles, and the shake in his voice is gone; but you know it’s not all better, not when he refuses to leave the infirmary even after sigewinne and the traveler inquire. you know it’s not all better, not when the four of you are alone again. lyney sits beside you on the bed, refusing to so much as stand up (he doesn’t want to let go of your hand. you don’t comment on it, but his fingers are still shaky as he holds onto yours like they’re a lifeline.)

you don’t exchange as much as a single word after that. you just bask in each other’s presence, apologies and pleas and “i love you” shared during every lingering glance between everyone in the room.

the four of you don’t need words. this is enough.

reader dies:

seven mistakes went unnoticed. seven signs went unfollowed. seven things (and five people) went wrong that day.

one: freminet.

it was entirely freminet’s fault, he thinks, it was. if only he had gotten you out of there in time. no — he shouldn’t have even brought you. he sits on the infirmary bed opposite to yours, knees pulled up to his chest, and he clutches pers with a death grip. he dips his head in such a way that his face is hidden with his hair; he doesn’t want to let lyney and lynette see him in this state. they have enough to deal with.

two: the primordial sea.

but they were bound to notice eventually, right?

“it was entirely the primordial sea’s fault,” lynette would remind, hand on freminet’s shoulder. “it wasn’t yours.”

the primordial sea. the cold and vicious waters were such a contrast to those he held so dear; what was typically calming and merciful turned to something suffocating and terrifying. but that didn’t change the fact that it was an inanimate thing.

he drops pers at the contact; it clatters to the floor; he looks down, wide-eyed and apologetic; he reaches down to pick it up. lynette does not put her hand on his shoulder again.

three: wriothesley.

“it was entirely wriothesley’s fault,” lyney wants to scream. he’s frantic, pacing the infirmary and voice cracking every time he speaks. lynette and freminet have seldom seen him so panicked. he needs to do something, he needs— he can’t. he can’t leave. once he gets his hands on wriothesley, he swears he’ll—

four: clorinde.

it was entirely clorinde’s fault. it was entirely her choice to pick only one of you to save. no one can bring themselves to be upset at her, for she did try to save both of you. but the realization slowly dawns upon the three children of the house of the hearth still with a steady heartbeat; it was either going to be you or freminet.

they realize this at different times. every time they do, they exchange a silent, quick glance.

freminet would’ve gladly given up his life. lyney and lynette, however .. they would not have been able to choose.

five: the gods.

it was entirely the gods’ fault. curse the gods, lyney thinks. he’s still pacing the room, and while he never put much stock in the divine, he was practically yelling at them now. he knew it wasn’t logical. but he needed something. what was the point of a god if not to help their people? what was the point of a god if just to watch people suffer like it’s an opera?

was she here now? was she watching? was this a “twist” for her? did she delight in this?

six: lyney.

it was entirely lyney’s fault. he shouldn’t have let you or freminet go. he shouldn’t have. he shouldn’t have let wriothesley play him like he was a deck of cards in his hands. this was all his fault. all his fault. he knew of the prophecy, dedicated his whole life to it — and yet hadn’t managed to save you from its clutches?

seven: you.

in truth — it was no one’s fault. but lyney is still pacing the room, breathing getting heavier and more rapid every time he steals a glance at you. lynette’s eyes still trace his every move, conveniently ignoring the sight of you as best she could; and freminet still has his face buried in his knees as to not look at your decaying body.

none of them can deal with the fact that it was simply an accident. no one meant for this to happen — there was no one to blame.

they needed someone to blame.

so each and every one of them blamed themselves. as lyney’s fingers grasped your cold ones, he squeezed them softly even as they began to turn blue beneath his grasp. he couldn’t bare to let you go.

and after three long days, the sun rose to find your bed empty where you had laid. you were nowhere to be found. for a moment, lyney’s heart practically leapt out of his chest, wondering .. did you get up?

but as he rushes to the bedside, his face falls. he should’ve known not to get his hopes up.

the blankets were damp where you had laid, soaked with water just as the stage in the opera epiclese had been.

lyney didn’t cry, nor did lynette or freminet.

they didn’t exchange so much as a word the day you died.

instead, they put their aching hearts and empty souls into the mission at hand. they worked twice as hard to distract themselves, and they provided excellent results for “father” — but they had barely worked together to do so.

they exchanged cold words and they held each other at night, when the pain became too much — because as much as they tried to pretend like nothing happened, that was a lie, just as the rest of their existence — but there was no mistaking it. they were now divided.

there was always you. and now there wasn’t.

lynette was the one who informed “father” of your .. whereabouts. lyney couldn’t bring himself to.

[duchess-kyuupid]

Not quite an X Reader request, but a fun little prompt: In the place of Yuu is a TWST version of Little Ghost from Hollow Knight. Everyone thinks the kid's some random five year old fae that got swiped up by accident and is mostly babysat by the staff, but that doesn't stop some students from trying to bully the baby.

However, the baby in question is very good at hiding knives on their person and is secretly a master swordsman, and one day stabs a bully in the leg for shoving them, right in front of the bully's dorm leader.

Question: How do the dorm leaders react in this situation?

Okay uhh... I haven't written anything for a long time I know, but this I feel like I absolutely HAVE to do. Hopefully Silksong comes soon...right?

« Little Ghost gets into a Little Fight™ in Twisted Wonderland »

[TWST x Hollow Knight, Platonic affection, Ghost is slightly taller than Grim, not an x reader, the bullies are from each respective dorm (like Riddle's bullies are from Heartslabyul, etc.)]

So this whole conundrum started when Little Ghost found their favorite dorm leader in the halls in between classes. In their little scurry to reach them, they had to bypass a couple other students who were also in the hallway. One such student, with their small group of friends, intended to punt them and disguise it as a mere "shove."

"Better watch where you're going, shorty- us tall people can't see you from all the way up here when- OW! God damn it, what the hell?"

Little Ghost hides away their sharpened nail within the cover of their cloak, as if it was never there to begin with. They look up to the bully, pure malice filling the void of its blank, unblinking eyes. The bully's friends decide it was probably best to take the bully to the nurse and apologize on their behalf because, just look at his leg, it's bleeding! And, oh god, how big is that hole in his foot? What even is this weird shadow stuff? Best to just apologize and get out of there while they still could...

~Riddle~

Riddle witnesses the whole thing from the very moment that the Little Ghost saw him to begin with. Yet, the bullies left so quick that he didn't get a chance to collar them for their blatant disregard for the lives of innocent creatures. And almost immediately after the bullies left, the knight headed straight towards Riddle.

He was angry at first, at how the bullies so flagrantly disobeyed Rule #75: Never kick any creature with your left foot on Thursdays. But rather, he ended up feeling more concerned over the safety of the knight than anything else.

He took a moment to make sure the knight was feeling okay before going off into great detail about how it's against school policy to carry and conceal any weapon that isn't a wand on campus. Granted, he momentarily stops himself mid-sentence during his rant about this, since technically Little Ghost isn't even a student at NRC, so perhaps those rules don't apply to them? Hmm... An interesting counterargument indeed...

Ghost merely stares blankly back with little reaction to the scolding from Riddle. He sighs and decides to say nothing else about the knight's hidden weapons because, ultimately, Riddle is just happy that he won't have to worry so much about the little guy getting hurt with the knowledge that they can protect themselves if they need to.

"Well," Riddle supposes, "I guess I can let it go just this once. But just make sure that you don't go around stirring up even more trouble. Just let me know if anyone else decides to bother you, and I shall make sure to deal with them properly. Still, I need to go make sure those other ruffians don't make the same mistake twice about breaking the Queen's rules."

Riddle leans down a bit and pats the top of the knight's head with endearment in his eyes before walking away towards the nurse's office, an obvious glare of anger in his stride as he walked.

And the Little Ghost, left all alone in the hallway, looks down to their little hand, holding onto their precious charm: Fury of the Fallen.

Ah, another time then... they think.

~Leona~

Leona catches the whole thing and laughs about it as he watches the bullies scurry away in fear. He'd be dead before he admits it out loud, but Leona was actually just about to step in for the Little Ghost. True, he was pretending that he didn't see them as they were trying to approach him in the hallway, but he's always trying to look out for Little Ghost, whether on purpose or not.

Anyway, his laugh was more like a snide snicker, filled with mocking amusement. It was almost ironic how those beastmen could be so frightened by such a small little mouse, and hearing them squeal like babies was almost like music to his ears.

Leona smiles wider when Ghost finally approaches him after the incident, and he dips down to give them a little pat on the head.

"Nice job there, runt. That's what they get for messing with the wrong pack."

However, Leona's caught by surprise when the Ghost takes his hand from their head and places something in it. It felt cold- metallic maybe?- in his hand, and he takes a look at the gift Ghost had given to him. A... brooch? Ehh... The thought is nice but he's not exactly a jewelry kinda guy, you know?

Oh wait, and there's a note on it too.

'Mark of Pride. To my favorite pack leader.'

The next day, almost all of the Savanaclaw residents took notice of the new brooch their leader started wearing around.

~Azul~

Well, those bullies did have it coming to them, to be fair. Azul is in equal parts surprised and not surprised at those turn of events. On one hand, he's not surprised that Ghost had a little something up their sleeves on how to protect themselves, but on the other hand, he just didn't expect it to be...that.

Like, you'd think that you wouldn't be able to do a lot of damage with just a comically sized nail, but apparently, it was enough to scare even Octavinelle students away. And what was with that shadow magic? He's never seen anyone use anything remotely similar- not even cosmic magic came close to what the Ghost wielded in tandem with their nail just now.

My, he's just reminded of how the land has so many things to learn and many more to gain from. Azul approaches Ghost after the bullies leave with a smile on his face. Whether the smile is from his eagerness for a new deal, his relief that Ghost is safe, or even a combination of the two- not even Azul knows.

"That was spectacular, Little Ghost! You really showed them what's what!"

And Ghost just looks back up at him with his eyes, devoid of any sort of emotion. Most people have become quite frightened of Ghost by now, and it feels like Azul is the only person who ever looks them directly in the eyes. After all, after spending basically your entire life at the bottom of the ocean, peering into the darkness is nothing new for someone like Azul.

For this reason, while Azul was talking his mouth off at the prospect of learning about Ghost's void magic, Ghost reaches into their cloak and pulls out a charm, picked out specifically for Azul.

Ghost stands on their toes and stretches out their arms to offer their one and only charm of Unbreakable Greed to Azul, and he receives it gracefully with a polite thank you and a semi-surprised expression.

"It's remarkably shiny. Beautiful even. Thank you, Ghost." Ghost quickly finds a pen and paper to write on for a quick note to Azul before he starts getting any ideas.

'Don't sell this one. It's supposed to bring you more money.'

~Kalim~

He was too carried away in talking off Jamil's ears, so much so that he never even noticed the kerfuffle until the bullies started making a fuss.

"NO! GHOST, STOP IT. That's mean!" He scolds ghost as if they were a cat, and he didn't even realize that it was out of self defense. He picks up ghost and cuddles him close to his chest and tries to apologize to the bully for the inconvenience.

Meanwhile, the bully just screams out about how the ghost is a devil in disguise- a monster. Kalim doesn't believe them as the ghost just looks back up to him with (seemingly) innocent doe eyes.

"Well if you were being mean like that to them then its no wonder why they hurt you!" And by that point, the bullies had already started to run off, frightened of getting on the wrong side of an Al-Asim as well as...whatever Ghost is- monster or devil.

"You didn't get hurt did you, little guy?" Kalim asks worriedly, and Ghost merely shakes his head no. With a sigh of relief, Kalim smiles and continues walking through the hallway with Ghost still in tow within his arms.

This was probably the most perfect time for Ghost to offer their gift to him, so from their pocket they take out their Hiveblood charm.

And Jamil has to stop Kalim from crying on the spot when the Ghost attaches the charm onto his cardigan. Ghost doesn't even need to explain what it does- Kalim will probably wear it every day anyway.

~Vil~

Vil sees what happens and also laughs for a second as he watched the bullies run away from the scene. Though, he was a bit disappointed, in a way. Those bullies were the ones who started it, and yet they didn't even have the courage to finish it? Not only that, but they didn't even look the least bit graceful in their bullying tactics. How shameful. He ought to scold them for bringing such disgusting habits into the Pomefiore lifestyle.

But, Vil decided, they were very much beyond his recognition right now. As Housewarden, he can probably set them up with a punishment befitting their actions later, but right now, Vil notices the Little Ghost approaching him with a sort of glee in their steps.

"Hello there, Little Ghost. You weren't hurt, I hope?" And Ghost shakes their head no before reaching into their pocket to pull something out from under their cloak.

Immediately, the hallway fills up with a strong stench in the air that seemingly came from nowhere. But, Vil knew better. After all, he can practically see the fumes radiating off of whatever the Ghost had in their hand. What confused him though, was why it only started smelling when the Ghost took it out from their cloak if they had it this whole time...

The Ghost reaches out their hand to offer their Defender's Crest to Vil, but he looks at it in disgust and pinches his nose so he wouldn't have to smell it. (Alas, this tactic did not help whatsoever, as now he was forced to almost taste the smell as the fumes visibly wafted into his face.) Still, he tried his best to decline the offer as politely as he could... In classic Vil fashion, of course.

"If you plan on giving me that, then forget about it and keep it for yourself. It's disguising and revolting. I'd probably catch 10 different diseases if I so much as touch that thing." Reminder, this was Vil trying to politely refuse the gift.

He almost felt bad about what he said once he sees the way that the Ghost lowers their arms and looks down sadly. Keyword: almost. While their eyes held nothing but emptiness, you could almost feel the small amount of sadness coming from them as they took a moment to think. To be honest, Vil was mere seconds away from reaching for his handkerchief to begrudgingly accept this...lovely gift before the Ghost puts it back into their cloak and pulls out something else instead. It was their charm of Deep Focus, and the beautiful purple gemstones on it shimmered gloriously under the lights in the hallway.

"That's much better," Vil smiles in acceptance and graciously takes the new gift, "And rather beautiful too. Thank you, Ghost."

Ghost was at least happy that Vil liked this one since it was pretty. To be honest though, they were still pretty hurt that Vil would call it disguisting... Ghost can't smell anything, so how were they supposed to know that Vil wouldn't like it?

At least, now it means that they can keep their memento from one of their best friends from their own world.

'I won't ever forget you, Dung Defender. Not even if I lose your Crest.'

~Idia~

Please don't blame him for not stepping in. He doesn't do too well with fights- or just drawing any sort of attention to himself. But! At least when the squabble was over, Idia stood in place and waited for the knight to come to him like they initially wanted. Usually, once Idia sees someone- anyone, really, with the exception of his brother- approaching him, he'll take any sort of excuse to get out of there to avoid confrontation.

Lucky for him, the Little Ghost can't speak. Or perhaps, they choose not to. Either way, it makes it a lot easier for Idia to hang out with the Ghost when he knows he's not going to be expected to answer any random questioning or have to actively participate in conversation.

It's gotten to the point where Idia and Ghost can communicate with each other without making any sort of sounds at all. It's kinda creepy to the other students at the college though... I mean, how can you tell what Little Ghost is thinking when they've never spoken, when their mask is immovable, and when their eyes hold nothing but empty void in them?

Ortho would just tell those people off for him though, because it's in those eyes of theirs that they can understand each other so clearly. Can't you see how much expression Ghost has? Just look at those eyes! [Its complete and utter darkness.] But...to be honest... Ortho doesn't understand it either. Idia supposes he might need to improve Ortho's emotional reading modules...

Going back on topic, Ghost approaches Idia in the hallway and their creepy nonverbal conversation began.

'Are you hurt?' 'No.' 'Good. I can dox them later if you want. Wanna play some games with me later?' 'Yes. I have something for you.' 'Let's see it then.'

Ghost pulls out from their cloak their most precious charm they own: Wayward Compass. Idia's gamer instincts can tell how much latent immense power that is stored in this innocuous brooch, and he accepts it gladly.

Later that day, Idia asks Ortho to scan the object to see what kind of power lays behind this brooch.

"It just shows you where you are on any map."

"Like a GPS?" Ortho nods.

"Oh."

~Malleus~

He's quite pleased actually. He, as well as most of Diasomnia (being the fae that they are), knows the ghost isn't quite a fae, but isn't quite human either, so even he's at a loss for what kind of being the ghost really is. And this mystery makes it all the more easy for Ghost to become the target of bullying, and thus all the more easy for Malleus to become super protective over little ghost. Ultimately, Malleus is glad to see that they were not hurt in the fight.

After all, from the moment when they first met and he looked into it's eyes, he could sense that same sort of empty loneliness within as he does within himself. The Ghost isn't scared of him either, so naturally it seemed that they've become good friends, even if neither party are prone to speaking very much- if at all.

As the Ghost approaches Malleus in the hallway after the fight, he pets the top of their head and wonders to himself- what sort of material is this mask thing made of? Bone? Or is it a type of exoskeleton? Is it made from ceramic or glass? Or perhaps a strange type of wood? Maybe it's made from a material that's only exclusive to the world that Ghost is from.

Lost in his own thoughts, Malleus continued to pat Ghost's head endearingly, and he didn't notice that Ghost was holding something out for him until Ghost takes his hand off of their head and instead wrap his fingers around the stem of a precious white flower. It looked delicate, like it could break apart and fly away at any moment.

And yet, it was such a beautiful flower.

"Is this... for me?" he asks, to which Ghost responds with a nod.

To be honest, the knight would have been completely infuriated if those bullies had managed to break the delicate flower from their home world. They would not have gotten away with the measly scrapes that they did. There was only one of these flowers, and I mean, sure- it was supposed to be for someone else, but the knight got transported here before they could even bring it to Elderbug. Truly though, it was a miracle that the flower had managed to last this long without being broken.

Meanwhile, Malleus gets lost in his thoughts again for a second after realizing that this was the first gift he'd ever gotten from someone he considered as a friend. A kindred soul. He must take great care to protect both the flower and this little creature that is neither fae, human, nor monster- but a friend.

He takes extremely good care of the flower. It might even become one of his favorite items, next to his precious Tamagotchi game, and he places it in an enchanted vase to protect it for as long as he can.

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

POV: you're an aspid who broke the delicate flower

[ticklystuff]

Day 30: Paint (Beautiful Red)

a/n: ler!boothill, lee!argenti — from the ticklecrowber2024 list!

———

"Which one is this one?"

"Green, of course."

Boothill shook his head at the confidence behind the answer, grinning as he placed the brush aside on the coffee table, allowing the thin droplets of paint to drip from the tip. "The paint is red. Ya really can't see it at all?"

"That's not quite how it works," Argenti smiled, his voice unwavering. "Colorblindness is not the same as absence of color. Rather, certain colors will look off to me compared to others."

"Well, I'll be darned," Boothill chuckled, shifting his body to face the knight. "Yer version of beauty ain't even the right one, then."

Argenti scoffed, looking Boothill straight in the eye, as if personally offended. "Quite the contrary. Are you not familiar with the phrase 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder'? There are many versions of beauty to consider and none are lesser than the other, just like my version of red is no worse than yours. For me, a beautiful red might mean the freshly sprouted leaves at the early dawn of spring, the slices of cucumber in a refreshing glass of water, even the scarf wrapped around your neck that you wear so well. What to you is a beautiful red, my dear cowboy?"

Boothill's mouth hung slightly agape, his brain struggling to process the array of words that was just thrown at him. "Err, I suppose when I think of red—"

"Beautiful red."

"Red," he insisted, leaning in to press a finger against Argenti's chest, "is the first thing I see when my bullet pierces right through my target's chest."

Argenti smiles, unphased. "And?"

"And?" Boothill stumbled over his own thoughts, unsure of how to answer the follow-up. Why was he expected to put so much thought into this?

"What is a beauti-"

"Alright, I get it, I get it!" Boothill huffed, before inhaling, wrangling his thoughts together. "When I think of red," he paused momentarily, shifting his eyes between Argenti and his open palm, his fingers curling nervously, before reaching forward and lifting a lock of Argenti's hair, allowing a few strands to spill in between his fingers, showing Argenti his answer, "I think of this here. Your darned hair that I can see all the way from another galaxy."

"And?"

"God!" Boothill's eye twitched, seething through his teeth. "What more do you want me to say?!"

"Just one more," Argenti nodded, awaiting an answer.

Boothill clicked his tongue irritatedly, peering past Argenti's figure, only to shift his gaze downward, sighing as he spoke. "You won't like my answer."

"I won't like your answer or you don't like your answer?" Argenti scoffed with a smile. "For I appreciate all forms of beauty."

"Well, if you insist," Boothill muttered, leaning forward again in hesitation, taking in a brief glance of the confusion crossing Argenti's face as his hands placed themselves around his waist, applying gentle pressure to the surface. He observed as Argenti's expression shifted from perplexed to a soft smile, his lips quivering into an upturn as Boothill's fingers began scribbling away, forcing the first bouts of laughter from the knight.

"I-I don't understahahahand!" Argenti bellowed, yet his laughter was easy on the ears, almost enjoyable as it rang throughout the room.

"When I think of red," Boothill began softly, his fingers worming under Argenti's arms as the knight clutched his sides in self-defense, "I think of how you look.. when I do this and well, how red your cheeks become."

"I-I ahahahaheheheahahaha!" The two fell to the floor as Argenti threw his head back, succumbing to the fingers that explored his upper body, giving Boothill full control. And the more he continued, the tinter Argenti's face grew, transitioning from a soft pink to rose red, just the way Boothill liked it.

"There, ya see?" Boothill removed his hands, allowing Argenti to breathe. "Red.. like your face."

Argenti sat back up, brushing the disheveled locks of hair behind his shoulder, clearing his throat, as he faced Boothill once more. "Thank you, my dear cowboy."

"Yer thanking me?" Well, that certainly wasn't what Boothill was expecting.

"Yes," Argenti smiled, placing a hand to his chest, "for allowing me to envision your kind of beautiful red."

"Err," Boothill scratched the back of his head awkwardly, unsure how to answer, only to nod. "Sure, anytime."

[pillowspace]

The timeloop got my brain spinning. And it's funny to me, cause maybe I'm older or it's just my anti social tendencies. But I've proven time and time again that sometimes I need breaks from people I love. Especially romantic partners. So I find the concept funny of a loop where yn just avoids Sun/Moon to the best of their ability. Cause they just need a break. Even if the loop doesn't reset, you can be friends with them after. Just give yourself a loop of the bare minimum of doing your job. You'll make minor conversation if they engage and you're used to their dialogue tree by now. You take this loop just to read a book or something. (Ironically this makes Sun and Moon fascinated by you all the more.) The next loop, you're better determined to tackle it on. But for this one, you're just "boring employee" this version and having your "alone time" break.

Y/N, after having the most atrocious run ever: I'm done. I'm done. For now, anyway. I can't do this, this run is for me time only now. I'm not quitting my job because I'll be Very Sad if I don't see Sun and Moon at all for the next few months, but I'm drained. Maybe I'll start bonding with the wet floor sign bots

They'd probably be a lot better the next loop yeah, because an actual break will have given them the willpower to not just push through mental exhaustion. Plus, I'd imagine the loops have also been quite draining in that Y/N is pushing themselves to keep looking for information in the pizzaplex even when they just really want to go home and lie down. Y/N would eventually reach a limit, and would need a break

[shmowder]

Your blog is making me want to replay Patho 2 again... I did play once on the intended difficulty, and then I replayed it afterwards on the easiest settings, doing everything and saving everyone and I'm ngl, that was some of the most fun I've ever had even though it wasn't quite in the spirit of the game haha

The so-called spirit of the game is this senior citizen wirh an overgrown 2000s anime boy haircut who shakes his cane at you sassily when you choose to only swallow a handful of razors as opposed to the razor muckbang the game offers.

I finished the game on the hardest difficulty

This was my first time playing the game ever. I straight up went to the intended difficulty, saved everyone, did everything, and never starved for a single day. I had 20+ Shmowders by the end. I was fully stocked on meat, I was fully stocked on homemade antibiotics and maxed the hospital shift each day.

All of that with only 3 Deaths

WHERE IS MY FUCKING CELEBRATION HUH? WHERE IS MY MEDAL? NO ONE THEW ME A PARTY, NO ONE INVITED BELLA HADID >:( MARK WASN'T IMPRESSED.

Fuck you Mark! ONE OF THOSE DEATHS WAS BULLSHIT YOU DUMB SLUT. YOU SPAWNED A GUY ON TOP OF ME WHILE I WAS PICKING UP HERBS, HOW THE FUCK DID HE ONE SHOT ME WITH FULL HEALTH HUH? YOU WHORE.

What I'm saying is. Look, we both finished the game on complete opposite extremes, yet we're both here. In a pathologic x reader blog on tumblr. We both had fun and shared a good understanding of the plot and characters. That's what matters. Everything else is just people patting themselves on the shoulder. You're the only one who will be impressed with the fact you beat the game flawlessly, and you're the only one who will be bothered by the fact you picked an easier difficulty

Because it's really not that different. To me, I have the kind of autism that makes games like pathologic smoother than water for me, I thrived on the ruthlessness of dark soul and did a no death run in darkest dungeon. But also. I absolutely suck at casual games, I can't play Stardew Valley unless I'm fully cheating, I can't for the life of me beat a single platforming game because I have a slow reaction speed.

Play Pathologic however you want! Ice-pick Joe isn't gonna pop from under your bed at 3am to beat you up with hammers. This is coming from the most tryhard difficulty elitism person there is in games.

Buttttt. I do recommend giving Pathologic classic HD a try. I promise anyone who beat Pathologic 2 on ANY difficultly will cuck tf out of the first game. There is no thirst! The vendors have unlimited money, and you can sell all of your trash to them! THE ECONOMY IS THRIVING I BOUGHT FOOD ON THE DAYS THE PRICES WERE SKYROCKETING BC I COULD AFFORD IT. I would've never financially recovered from buying food in P2 on any day that's not the first one. In P1, I rarely slept because I was deepthroating lemons and snorting coffee beans day and night since I could easily afford the health/hunger penalty.

Meanwhile, in P2, I'd save coffee beans to sell to get enough money to save up for army clothes.

The combat is so forgiving, the houses with good loot aren't the infected ones like in P2 but the burned ones! The AI in that game is so stupid you can trick plague clouds into disappearing if you stand still! You can glitch and jump over fences to take shortcuts through the town! YOU CAN SCAM THAT CUNT ANDREY STAMATIN FOR ENDLESS SHOTGUNS.

Lastly don't forget that 90% of the Pathologic fandom haven't even played any of the games at all. 70% probably never watched a single playthrough either and just video essays instead.

In the steam version of Pathologic 2, Only 10% of players who bought the game have ever reached the end.

10% !!! That's us there! Me and You! It doesn't matter how what matters is that we both did it while 90% of people gave up.

And the situation in the classic game is even more dire tbh-

Only 6% ever opened the game and made it through the first day. Only 3% ever made it to the last day.

So, really good on you for finishing the game! Good on me for finishing the game! WE DID IT! YAY! Someone really should give Bella Hadid a call.

Also, please do yourself a favour and ignore whatever the video essayist says about the difficulty of the games. They're good storytellers for building an interesting narrative to watch, but they're not good at videogames assessment. Each of their reasons is very personalised by their own experience and doesn't necessarily mean other people will struggle with the same issues. Don't listen to anyone who tells you picking an easy difficulty ruins the game either, Pathologic doesn't relay on its brutal gameplay to shine, it can more stand on its own as a narrative story walking game. If anything, it would probably shine better on easier difficulties when you have time to dig for context clues and plot without starvation breathing down your neck. I missed some flavour text quests because I was too stressed about balancing different objectives to do them or pay attention when something important was said.

[thegrayascendancy-if]

Love your story!!! The setting is unique, the magic is well thought-out, the fight scenes are really well-written, and - I want to romance everyone!! Yet as a guilty pleasure enjoyer, I can't help but ask ... How will the most ~toxic~ version of the relationship between the MC and the LIs look like? How would the most healthy? Like, I would imagine a cruel MC who is undyingly loyal to Y and Arthur would make a dumpster fire. But gentle, all-loving MC and Y sounds wholesome, etc. Thank you ♡ !!

Thank you so much! And wow, you are coming in hot with this question! 😏

It is tricky to answer because one, I can't say much without spoiling certain important things, and two, the devil lies in the details aka singular choices that weave the story your MC experiences. This is the strength of IFs and similarly choice-driven games, where role-play heavily influences your interpretation of what is said and what transpires. One MC's fun may just be another MC's ~toxic~

Still, as a fellow guilty pleasure connoisseur, I will do my best to paint the picture. Also pardon me for tapping into that fancy tarot terminology, it's the healthy one first, the dark version second.

Arthur Upright: they are still rather playful with each other, but it comes from the place of love now. Also, capital letter T trusting. Reversed: ends in him crushed, "I will fix them/their messes or die trying" because of course it is all his fault somehow

Darla: Upright: she lets the MC see those tender parts of her and they entertain her curiosities. Very explorational. Reversed: she makes a great partner for a rather ambitious MC, actually, and that's all I'm going to say!

Gale Upright: the relationship itself is quite raw yet affectionate. And he talks back at others a lot more too! Reversed: he is an adroit master of his magic, honed to serve the only person in his life who truly loves him

Ianthe Upright: climbing ruins during the day, pressing to each other by the fire at night Reversed: she sees the warning signs fairly early and does her best to reach the MC with words. Failing to do so, she removes herself from them emotionally because it is killing her soul

Jax Upright: two equals who challenge each other for fun and to better themselves Reversed: MC riding that guilt trip of theirs

Yves/Yvette Upright: either tentative and careful or hungry and demanding Reversed: as you said, a dumpster fire within a burning building. Y knows the MC and them are bound, and what they do benefits them both, no matter what the MC says. Y is paranoid but unable to let go.