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

[ravixen]

heyy! may i ask for vocal term ver of svt meeting your friends? 👉🏼👈🏼 (btw i am the same anon who asked for the performance team ver of it hehe)

svt + meeting your friends (pt 3)

➔ requested || reaction || vocal unit

➔ warnings: none || 0.8k words ➔ notes: fluff ; heya! i hope you liked the performance unit version of it; it was fun to write, so i hope other people love it, too. here's the vocal team version of the same prompt. please reblog if you enjoyed! i love reading all of the comments. thank you for sending in my last request!! :)

JEONGHAN: he was just going to drop you off and head home, but your friends needed someone for their pick up basketball game—just until the last person of your friend group got out of traffic—and they heard that he's pretty athletic. "just a little," he allows, stretching his limbs. he doesn't have to stay, but he doesn't have much else to do at home and this is the perfect chance to make a good impression on your friends. everyone goes around quickly introducing themselves in a circle, and that's all the team-bonding they get before finding positions on the court. for the first game, you and jeonghan are on opposite teams, so he takes it easy, jogging around and making simple plays to get a feel for his team's rhythm. it's so laid back that it annoys you, the one who knows what he's capable of. respect you and your team enough to put in effort? he gives you a cocky grin. sure. when his team huddles during the break, he tells them his plan and your best friend whistles lowly. "I mean...they did ask for it," they say with a shrug. the second game immediately puts him on his team's good side and your team's bad side. maybe he'll make a better impression off the court.

JOSHUA: posted in part 1!

JIHOON: they know that he's famous, but man, are all celebrities this effortlessly cool or is it just him? he's not doing anything in particular, and in fact, he's quite friendly; he made sure to shake everyone's hand with both of his when they introduced themselves, and he said that he's lee jihoon, as if your friends haven't seen his name plastered on billboards across the city. he doesn't talk too much about himself, preferring to sit in the background, but the way his simple t-shirt stretches around his shoulders, the way his pushed back sunglasses act as a headband for messy black hair, the way he puts his arm on the back of your chair and leans in to share a menu...hot, humble, and sweet with an unmistakable aura. you really snagged a good one. and when you ask for the check only to find out that jihoon's already paid for the table? you whirl around and level him with a look, but one of your friends, the one across the table from you, laughs. "dude, I thought you looked suspicious on the way to the bathroom. did you even go?" hot, humble, sweet, rich, and generous. they'll keep an eye out next time to prevent him from paying in the future, though.

SEOKMIN: it takes him a long time to meet your friends, and they're getting antsy. but no matter how much they pester you about seeing the golden retriever boyfriend himself in real life, even jokingly accusing you of hiding him from the world, you can't do anything because he's refusing to meet your friends. it's the reason he gives for not guesting on lee mujin's show...he doesn't feel like he's good enough, and there's so much to unpack in that simple admission. that's why the first meeting inside a newly opened bakery and cafe is entirely accidental. you see the nervousness in his posture as soon as they recognize you and wave. then they turn their gaze to him, and he reaches for your hand, clasping it tightly to his side. "hey guys," you say, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "this is seokmin." there's something in the glint in your eyes that reminds them to play nice. luckily, this is the icebreaker needed to get him comfortable with a planned second meeting that goes so much better. he doesn't wander from your side, but he fully participates in the conversation, and your friends conclude that you're right. they do need sunglasses to look at his mega-watt smile.

SEUNGKWAN: he's professor boo of kpop for a reason; he's got room in his pretty head for all sorts of niche information, so of course, he's been filing away facts about your friends over time. when he actually meets them, he ends up bringing the perfect gift. "oh wow," your friend says, gaping at the bag he handed over. "I've actually been eying this for a while but didn't tell anyone! how did you know?" he shrugs as he kicks off his shoes at the door. "it just seemed like it would suit you," he says easily. the world can't sing his praises enough. there's a reason why so many people love him and invite him everywhere. he uses the information he's collected to perfectly navigate conversations: what topics make people light up and lean forward in interest? what topics should he avoid to prevent awkward silences? deep down, he feels like he has to make a good impression because you chose him and he wants to prove to everyone that he deserves you, even though no one is thinking that in the slightest. (in your eyes, it's him that deserves more than the world can give him.)

[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'.

[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 ܵ ۪

[jweekgoji]

Hello! So I read your sentinel/starscream x reader fic and was absolutely devastated to check the tag and see it was one of like…maybe 3 other TFO!starscream fics on here? So I wanna request NSFW of my boy TFO!Starscream. The lack of content is killing me 🤕 Thank you! (Specifically a high guard!reader x starscream if you do end up see this)

Starscream/High Guard!Reader [TFO]

tw: NSFW (minors don't read, don't interact), praise kink, commander/subordinate relationship. word count: ~740 a/n: I think this version of Starscream will be more popular if only the writers decided to keep that scene where Starscream helps the main trio to rescue D-16 and the others. :(

It was no secret that the well-known leader of the High Guard was quite popular among the citizens of Iacon. Compliments came from all over the place, from the citizens to the Primes themselves.

“You've been so great today, I don't know who else would lead a mission against Sentinel so well like you do.”

“Mhhm.”

“There is no one else, a better commander than you.”

“...Continue.”

“I think you're far smarter and stronger leader than this false Prime wannabe, Lord Starscream.”

Starscream's servo clamps his mouth shut as your words reach his audio receptors. You notice his optics dimming a little, a slight shiver running along his spine. Did the mention of the title capture his attention that much? Or perhaps it was your confession that he was better than that greedy liar leading Iacon now? Either way, it doesn't matter at this moment.

“You're unbelievable...” Starscream says through gritted teeth, holding back from letting out more shameless sounds. Someone might hear.

Fragging you on the throne while your comrades are unaware, seemed a tiny bit risky, don't you think? He knows that, of course. If Skywarp or Slipstream spot the two of you like that, they will never miss the chance to tease him about it for cycles.

You meet his thrusts with your hips, feeling his spike pushing even deeper inside you. A slight smirk sparkles on your face in response to an earned muffled groan from your commander.

Who would have thought so? Starscream, of all the mechs you've ever met, melts in your optics with praise. At first, you hardly even noticed it. A brief ‘you're so strong, Commander!’ or ‘wonderful job, sir’ every time made him immediately drop whatever he was doing, only to realize what you had just said.

Receiving a lot of compliments was never unusual, but for some reason, it was you who made his spark beat a little faster.

“Don't even think...about telling it to someone,” his clawed servo snakes around your waist, pushing you lower onto his lap, digits pressing tighter with each deep thrust.

You purr softly in response, enjoying the lovely view of your leader sitting directly beneath you. At a steady, lazy pace, you felt his spike buried deep inside your valve, every tiny movement causing you to hold onto him tighter.

So, so painfully slow, it almost makes the red-and-white jet hiss in annoyance. Any other good day he would have appreciated your desire for something so vanilla, but right now, all he can think about is flopping your back down on his throne, taking you right here and there how he wants it now. But that would be too good to ask for, wouldn't it?

“If you want to do it faster, just say ‘please’,” you coo, rocking your hips against his own. “It's not that hard.”

“No,” he huffs, shooting you a strict glance. Him? Begging? How funny.

“Come on, boss,” you lean a little closer, his bright red optics narrowing at the sight of yours.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

Now that's your turn to huff. Maybe if you try to use your big, charming optics on him, to make him finally give in and admit to what exactly he wants from you. You want it too. Why can't he just use his words instead of giving you these longing looks? Your commander is so unfair and childish sometimes. He can't even look you in the optics right now, perhaps, so you wouldn't give him that puppy optics of yours even he can't say no to.

“If you weren't so moody all the time, commander,” you trace your digits around the edge of the jet's wings, rubbing the small circles around the sensitive spot. “I'd let you frag me on this throne any day of the week. Just so our comrades will know that I belong to you.”

For a moment, you see him stop. A sudden sense of panic runs through your processor. Was it too forward? Now things will be awkward. You've been so caught up at the moment, you barely had the chance to think about what slipped from your mouth.

Not like anyone had the strength not to fall on their knees for Starscream, though...that is, until you feel his wings twitch at the touch. A soft, pleased hum coming from his chassis. His servo slowly wraps around your own, only to catch your wrists together, pulling them in front of your center.

“Prove it then.”

[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.

[doctorho]

i'm writing more viktor x chronically ill reader and -

it started as the reader feels insecure and viktor is so used to fighting against a world that wants to break him that he knows how to help.

and the reader sees viktor as this smart, confident, capable-and-disabled-guy, and it really is and and not but, he's had to fight tooth and nail to be where he is and he holds no illusions about what some people think about him, but now he's at the top, he's the best at what he does, he has one of those brilliant once-in-a-lifetime type of minds and the heart to go with it, the passion that comes from wanting to make things better-

and he's confident! he knows he's good! he knows he's smart! he had to fight twice as hard as the others in the academy just to get in but now he's running the whole show and he's deserved it, gods, he has a right to be there and he's not going to apologize to the people who don't like it, because they're not worth the time of day!

he knows he's good at what he does.

and he wants the reader to value themselves too. even just out of spite if it comes to that, because the world is hard enough for people like them already, other people are mean enough already, and it should be their given right to rise above that and say no, actually, i'm good and i deserve to be here. i deserve good things.

they've both seen enough cruelty already. they don't need more of it from inside their heads.

and he truly does believe that! he does. it feels like a truth running all through his bone marrow.

he knows he's good at what he does.

he knows he's smart.

and it's easy to tell the same things to someone else. because he believes them. he really, truly does.

but there's still that little kid somewhere at the back of his head, that too-little version of him that got left behind, and there's still that innate feeling of being not-quite-right, being weird and not fitting in and - yes, he's accepted it, that was just a thing about him, he was always going to be a little weird, but-

at the core of it is the feeling that he never really felt like people wanted him around. even after he climbed to the top of the business, the top of the stupid social circles, out of the undercity, and stood his ground there, he never really felt like he belonged there. like any of them really wanted him around. jayce was one of the few exceptions, but in the grand scheme of things, one exception didn't shake his beliefs much. jayce was an anomaly in the trend, and not a breakthrough.

so when the reader really does seem to want viktor around?

he doesn’t know what to do with that.

it's easy to tell other people they're worth it, but viktor still can't shake the feeling that it doesn’t apply to him.

except when you want him around for more than just his work? more than just as a solution to a problem? when you seem to want him, with his quiet humor and broken body and all, and then his heart is falling through his ribs as he tries to hold it together, because he didn't think that was possible. not for him. not this. nothing like this, and certainly not with someone that understands.

and suddenly he is a raw nerve, looking for lightning. he has no idea what to do with these feelings, because he's still not sure he trusts them, but he's not about to let the opportunity slide. so he has to push his trembling doubts aside and reach out, for the first time in his life let someone see his heart the way it truly is, soft and shivering and left-behind, because as afraid as he is he's also craving for the connection. even if he doesn’t really believe he deserves it, even if he doesn’t really believe in it, he still has to try. even with shaking hands, he has to try.

it's an off-beat dance on both parts, when neither of you really knows how to trust it. it's careful and tentative and sometimes just holding on to something feels like a lifeline, because neither of you really thought you'd have this. that anyone could want you like this.

and over the years, viktor's pushed his feelings so far aside, that when they snap right back into his chest it leaves him gasping for air. when you touch him he crumbles, all composure gone, and he grips your hand like it's keeping him anchored into his own body, like he might float away into the ether without it. and it's with shuddering breaths and gentle touches that he learns how to trust, slowly, finally, and it is delicate and messy and raw but it's honest, the truth of it warm and solid somewhere close to his chest, and he wants to keep it there. wants it to take root there and grow into his whole being until it surrounds him.

it's easy to tell other people that they're worth it. harder to believe it about yourself, especially when it feels like you're shouting alone into the dark while the whole world seems to quietly disagree.

it gets a lot easier if someone shows you that they think you're worth it, bruised heart and chipped corners and all, and fuck what the rest of the world thinks, you are good.

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Daily Dose of Solas-Posting Time/just a love of what love can achieve I guess?

I think a lot of people in this fan space struggle to distinguish the apparently very blurred line between "oh look, this poster likes Solas and must therefore condone murder to achieve one's goals", and "rad, she understands that this is a game in which characters do things she would never approve of in real life but given the fact that these are all tiny people on a screen she enjoys extrapolating larger themes"

And for those of you in that second camp how freaking beautiful is it that we get to see one of the oldest saddest elves go on an absolute bender and still get the chance to make things right because he has a friend/lover who knows his heart and refuses to let him hide from it any longer.

Varric disapproves of trying to save him at the end of Trespasser and clearly at some point within the next eight years goes "you know what? This sassy nerdy passionate guy was my friend once and I believe in what he could be if he gives up on the self-destructive path he's chosen"

Harding struggles to fathom what the Inquisitor sees in a disingenuous clefted egg but knows that if nothing else she trusts her friends and for all my critiques of Veilguard I do think Bellara gets a baller of a line with the "trust your heart, it is a good one" banger. Harding may not know exactly how she feels about Solas (and yeah that is so fair) but she knows the Inquisitor's heart is a good one, and if they're trying to save him, she trusts it. She chooses to believe that in an ever-darkening world there is power in restoring a little bit of light.

Your Inquisitor has the option to be like "wow this guy was my friend, occasional confidante (and potentially the most brutal love of my life), fought alongside me and guarded my life as I guarded his, and spoke so wistfully of things I did not understand at the time but now realize came from a place of deep grief. The way he's acting now stems from hurt and trauma and I know it'd be easier to just stab him with his own dagger but what if what if what if..."

And if you're able to look at his story at its simplest (if you're able to see past the broken man and into the spirit of wisdom he once was, if you will) it's really just the grandest version of pre-EA Bioware's bread and butter theme for at least a few companions per game: even the most broken people are capable of changing themselves and ultimately the world for the better if those who can reach out a hand do. And the Inquisitor only has the one hand to reach out, in fact they only have that one hand because of the very man they're hunting down, but if they can find it in themselves to extend it, damn. It brings a broken man back to his feet after an absolutely brutal confrontation of his past and helps him stand tall and face what's coming next in a way he wouldn't have been capable of otherwise. It lets Solas, who is at his absolute lowest, know that someone he strongly admires, who can relate to the challenges he once faced as the young leader of a massive movement, sees the parts of him that just want to do what's right but can't quite remember how anymore.

And to someone who hasn't fought in a war or forged the tools that wrecked entire civilizations, sure maybe that wouldn't hit as hard. But who amongst us hasn't betrayed the core of who we are to make others happy and regretted it? Who hasn't charged down a path that sent thorns digging into their skin with every step because to stop and turn back means facing everything they've done to get there? Means admitting they were wrong? Who hasn't hit a low and crawled their way back to themselves again because that hand came down and refused to let go?

To someone like that, like me, it can make all the difference in the world to see it go down on that tiny little screen.

Mmmmm there's just so much power in having even one person who sees you self-destructing at your worst and goes "not on my watch" and I love that most of these games have brought us such beautifully simple yet meaningful ideas in so many different ways.

[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."

[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

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

The Night Kevin

I think I figured out the whole Kevin thing. It's a strange and twisted tale, so stay with me.

Kevin Day is the haunting mystery at the heart of aftg. The story might be about Neil and Andrew but he brings this almost mystical dimension, sensed rather than seen. Like Edgar Allan Poe's poem - on the surface it's about grief for the loss of Lenore, but the presence of the raven takes it into an unknowable place.

So trying to solve the puzzle of Kevin becomes an addiction. The answer feels tantalisingly just out of reach, if only you could figure out the right questions to ask. Same with all those polycule connections that won't show themselves but won't go away... it's the great unknowable; kandreil isn't supposed to exist in the canon version yet it defies all attempts to erase it. We all know it's there. We can feel it, even if we can't see it. What's driving it? Why does 1 + 1 keep adding up to 3?

Perhaps the clue is in the name. Kevin Day. What's the word that immediately comes to mind when you hear the word 'day'? The word 'night'. Maybe it's a hint that we're only seeing half the story.

Which is how I've always felt about Kevin... that he's only partly real, maybe 30% of a person. I mentioned before about the Perfect Court feeling like splinters and Kevin reminding me of Rei Ayanami, an incomplete soul.

But there's an even better analogy. Pratchett's 'Thief of time', which is brilliant by the way, imagined Time as a female spirit who became trapped in a glass clock. Kind of like Kayleigh, a uniquely talented free spirit who stumbled into something sinister. (Strange that we only ever perceive Kayleigh as a spirit, never a real person. It's even called the Day Spirit award.)

In the book, Time as a not-quite-woman eventually gave birth in a sort of time loop, so her son was born twice. Two bodies but only one soul, split unevenly between them. One boy was almost normal, but the other was so cold and distant he didn't seem fully human. They were both obsessed with time and highly skilled at it, time was their thing; one created clockwork devices and the other could bend time with these weird time-bending monks.

That idea of a split soul is how Kevin always feels to me. As though part of him is missing somehow, or lost.

So where is it? Is there another half of Kevin Day, a Night Kevin, a lost son, if not of Kayleigh, then of the Spirit of exy... who walked in the shadows while Kevin Day was always in the light? Someone with the other half of his soul, with all the fierceness and independence that Kevin lacked?

Someone else whose life also revolved around exy, who was obsessed to the point of singlemindedness, with a gift for exy - but passionate and instinctive, not coldly intellectual.

Someone who was also incomplete, but in reverse. Who was missing all the things Kevin could do... the ability to form bonds with people, depend on them, even ask them for help.

Neil is a knight in Nora's chess symbolism. He is also the night half of the lost boys story.

Look how much they were drawn to each other. Neil who needed to evade capture at all costs but not as badly as he needed to carry around an 'I heart Kevin Day' scrapbook. Kevin who dismissed half the young hopefuls in the country so he could go bullheaded for that kid in Millport.

Even the way they were both attracted to Andrew. That's why kandreil feels so real even in the canon version. It's not Kevin + Neil + Andrew. It's [Kevin/Neil] + Andrew.

An unexpected piece of corroboration is something that always sticks out to me - Riko telling Neil 'I'm going to love hurting you. Like I loved hurting Kevin.' Because if he wanted to intimidate why not mention Jean, who suffered far worse torment? There's many explanations but I think he meant exactly what he said: it would feel the same with Neil as it had with Kevin. Because Neil and Kevin are split souls.

We all understand 'misplaced forever partner' to be a bond outside of all labels we've ever heard before - friend, lover, partner. I think whatever binds Neil and Kevin is in the same category - entirely unique, only existing between those two, and impossible to properly define except to say they're the mirror halves of something broken.

It's beautiful that neither of them could heal until the other did, and that they found the missing parts of themselves almost at the same time.

The queen tattoo was the moment when Kevin became whole. No wonder Andrew was smiling - Kevin had found his independence. That was Andrew's true role in Kevin's life, whether he'd realised it or not, and maybe this was the moment he realised.

And Neil was also feeling complete that night, having learned to depend on someone.

Which is why the final game was the finale, it was the completion of their story, Neil and his mirror soul, no longer broken but healed.

[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.