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itsabea · 4 months ago

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March x sad Reader

Description: March tries his best to comfort you after you have a particularly busy day and end up exhausted

Warnings: not proof read, hinting at depression(reader), slight angst, swearing,

this is purely self indulgent- but then again, almost all of my writing is-

You had been so busy today, exceedingly more so than usual. First of all, it was raining, which you didn't mind because it meant your crops were already watered - but things only got more hectic and busy from there on on out..

You collected, put away, sold, and replanted your crops, then went to go fishing for a salmon for Jo's Request that you had accepted about a month ago.. Only to realise about an hour an a half in that it was currently Summer. Now with much less of your energy, you went to the general store to buy some more seeds and a few fruit trees, which left you with a total of 5 Tesserae as a result.

After going back to your farm and planting the saplings and seeds, you realised that it was only two more days until the end of the season. And so, you went back to fishing to try and catch the rest of the Summer fish you need for the Museum. Admittedly, most of that time was spent walking to and from the ponds to the beach, as that's where the rest of the fish you needed were found.

Once it hit 5:30, you realised that it wasn't just the third to last day of the season.. It was also a Friday. Sighing and slumping your head back, you defeatedly headed home to get ready for your weekly visit to the Inn. Hauling the bag full fish with you on your back, you got back to your farm and placed the not so important ones in your shipping bin, only to realise that you needed one more pond fish to finish that collection.... And it only showed up in the rain..

You were tired. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy your new life in Mistria; helping out the town and it's people. Or that today was bad; you had many content and joy filled moments between it all. But you were tired. So, so, tired..

Right now, nothing was more appealing than curling up in your bed, and crying.

So that's what you did. You put away your items, got showered and dressed into your pyjamas, and you laid down in your bed and cried out the remainder of what little was left of your energy.

You didn't even end up falling asleep afterwards like you usually did when crying in your bed.. Which upset you much more than you realised it would.

I mean.. Why get up just to do it all again tomorrow? The next day would likely end up being longer than today as well.. Not that today wasn't enjoyable- But it wasn't as enjoyable as others... People need you around town though, they always tell you that- You're not that important - the townsfolk don't rely on you to live....

You curled up in on yourself more, lying on your side as the tears began to flow down your cheeks again. It felt hopeless. Everything felt like it wasn't worth it anymore. And you continued to cry in your home until a knock sounded on your door.

At first, you thought you had misheard and simply sighed out a sob. But after a much firmer knock, you realised that it wasn't just you hearing things. Tiredly getting up, you assumed it was Adaline or Eiland, popping by to inform you about a new job that needed to be done around town. Or maybe Celine or Hayden needing some sugar or something?

Either way, you knew all four options were kind enough to excuse your tired, red eyes and pyjama clad form, so you didn't bother trying to make yourself the slightest bit presentable before opening the door. Which was a big mistake on your part, because March was the one that stood in your doorframe, looking down at you with a frown you could barley see through your slightly blurred vision.

"Why are you here?" March said suddenly, looking too the side as you rubbed at your eyes to try and clear them up. "Uhm- I live here?" You responded, no energy left to think up or question his presence on your farm.

After a huff and an exaggerated eyeroll, March rephrased went on to rephrase his question. "No- Why aren't you-" But he cut his words short when he watched your head bob forward like a sleepy child. "What, did you get tired from playing in the dirt all day? I can't believe you-" "Fuck you." You said back, one last tear rolling down your cheek as whatever energy you had that was keeping you standing left you.

In that same instant, you felt a falling sensation as your vision went black. You were tired.

Every so often you'd end up seeing glimpses of your home, but it was somehow moving? Your doorframe.. Black.. Your ceiling... Black... Your ceiling light.... Black.... More ceiling..... Black.....

Every time you saw black, you felt relieved and slightly less tired, especially compared to when you could see your home. And then, a warm sensation surrounded you, like you were being wrapped in a big hug that left you yearning for more.

When you reopened your eyes, you found yourself tucked into bed. The blankets were up to your ears as you laid on your side, about to roll over when you finally noticed the red head of hair resting on top of the blankets in front of you. Humming out, with a slight groaned mumbled, you went to speak up but were promptly cut off.

"Shup up and go back to sleep." March said, lifting his head from its resting position to look at you with stern, yet soft eyes. Feeling your tiredness envelope you, you closed your eyes but felt the cogs in your brain ticking. Why was March here? What was he doing? And why were you in your bed- You suddenly remembered falling into March in your doorway, and him carrying you to your bed before tucking you in.

You felt bad for cursing at him now, but you were also much more confused about why he was even at your farm in the first place. "March-" You started, only for said male to cut you off. "Shoosh. I said, 'go back to sleep'." He retorted, and if your eyes weren't still closed, you had a feeling that he'd glare at you again.

You didn't end up going back to sleep, but you did have a very calm conversation with March as you continued to rest with your eyes closed.

"I'm sorry." March said, being the first to speak after he told you to sleep for the second time. "Why-" "Shut up, you're supposed to be asleep." March said, cutting you off as moment of silence followed before he ended up answering your question. "I know I can be.. A rude asshole - a lot of the time.." March admitted as you felt him start to play with the top of the blanket slightly.

You didn't dare make a single sound as he continued to talk, telling you about how everyone at the Inn was starting to wonder where you were, and how Reina came to the conclusion that you might be over worked.. "-Then Olric offered to check up on you and-" March paused before continuing, having now moved his arm back down from the hem of the blanket as he ceased his delicate fiddling. "And.. And I told him I'd go instead."

The fact you were now frowning didn't go unnoticed by March, who must've been watching you to make sure you didn't open your eyes again. "I know, I know.. I don't why either.... You just-.... You made everyone worried.." March said, trailing off as he went silent again.

After feeling the blankets shift slightly beside you, you peaked your eye open to see March was doing, only to get told off again after seeing March's head resting on his arm directly in front of you. "Sleep." He said, but you had already closed your eye when you saw his eyes intently watching yours.

Your face ran hot with heat from the proximity, which was apparently very visible to March. "Fuck- Please don't tell me you have a damn fever.." He grumbled out, using the back of his free hand to touch your forehead as he continued to complain. "If you went diving and didn't fucking keep warm I'm taking you to Valen." March half threatened, prompting you to frown as he retracted his hand from your forehead.

"Your shipping bin smells like fish." He clarified before you felt him move against the blankets again. This time you felt weight remove itself from beside you, which had you shooting your eyes open with a desperation for company. March looked at you blankly from where he still sat on the floor beside your bed, leaning back on his arms as you watched him open his mouth to tell you off again.

"I'm sleeping..!" You said quickly, hearing a huff emit from the red head in front of your once more closed eyes.

"So.." March started after seconds more of silence. "Why weren't you at the Inn?" He asked, making an exhausted sigh leave you before you spoke. "Tired." You said, waiting for a moment before elaborating on your day. "Tended to crops.. Fed animals... Fished for a stupid non-existent Summer salmon.... Spent all my money on crops.... Planted them.... Went fishing again, but for the Museum.... Died inside.... No energy.... Cried in bed.." You said, starting to tear up again when March spoke up.

"I know it goes against what I always say to you.. But you do a lot around here- Too fucking much to be honest.. And I-" March paused for the umpteenth time that night as you pried your eyes open and looked at him.

He was sitting in the exact same position as when you last opened your eyes, only now he had his head turned from you. Yet, his eyes keep their sights on you, and this time he didn't have the heart to tell you off. March ended up breaking contact with your eyes, his face reddening slightly as he spoke.

"You're enough- More than enough.. You're honestly too much but- Sigh...." March quickly darted his eyes to, and away from you before he continued. "You're a lot. You're so much.. You mean so much- To literally everyone." He said, making another, single tear fall down your face. But this time you had just enough energy.

"Thank you.. March." You managed out, smiling as a few more tears fell down and onto the pillow beneath you.

March wasn't sure what had you crying this time, unsure on whether he did good or bad with his words. But he was by your side once more the moment he watched those tears form into droplets in the corners of your eyes. With a sigh of relief, March relaxed after seeing the slight smile on your face, only to watch it fall the next second as a soft snore left you.

Finally.. You were asleep.

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sunmoon-starfactory · 3 months ago

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The Giving Tree - Optimized

Surprise! We are not dead yet and today we have a big optimization update! This update reduces the "The Giving Tree" set in size by more than 50% (106 to 36,2 MB). You also get a cute little bag planter which doubles as a Texture Main. (Surfaces -> Misc)

Technical details: Each tree consists of 4 files: sapling, growing, mature and felled. Because of the way the files have been optimized, you have to make sure that you do not delete the sapling file for the trees you use. Trees are standalone, but the sapling is always required. As is the planter bag.

As a manual has not been written (yet), you can find more information about this set and its usage at The Keep

Update instructions: All files have been modified and renamed, please REMOVE all old files.

Download The Giving Tree

View Set at The Keep

#sun&moon #ts2 #s2cc #star factory #ts2cc #crafting stations #the giving tree #update

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quitealotofsodapop · 4 days ago

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I also mentioned this before in DMs, but I want to point something out.

Wukong gave Macaque a peach popsicle after the fight with Azure. At this point into their relationship, they're only jsut to the point of beginning to reconcile, not quite trusting each other yet, but the first thing Wukong does is give Macaque a peach flavored treat. Is this because he's just extending an olive branch? Did he somehow get his hands on more immortal peaches and made modern treats out of them to make it so they last longer for his friend who needs to regularly invest them to manage his chronic sickness? A little bit of both?

Ref.

Wukong 100% planted a divine peach tree or two on FFM from whatever pits he had left over.

I *love* the idea that when Wukong realised his bestie-turned-rival was alive again, he started thinking of ways to add the Peaches of Immortality to modern day snacks/sweets so Mac wouldn't have to wait potentially months or even centuries for a new dose.

In the lore; the special Life-Extending Peach trees in the Celestial Realm supposedly only fruit every 3,000 years (300 celestial years?), and two other variants that take 6,000 (makes you light as air and youthful) and 9,000 (super boosted first variant) years respectively. This is why so much of the harvest is converted into Peach Wine that the immortals can sup on throughout the orchard's fallow season. And why the Peach Banquet is so important to the Queen Mother. There *is* a possibility that there are other sections of the royal orchard that were planted at different times to make the waits a little shorter tho. Irl peach trees take about 3-4 years to grow to fruiting sizes, so the Immortal Peaches could take a few hundred years to sprout anything on Earth - unless someone crossbred them with local peach trees to shorten the amount of time needed.

Also! Hilarious thing I discovered while looking up peaches; the specific trees Wukong is assigned to as an Peach Orchard Attendant are called "Pan Tao/Coiled Peaches" aka "Doughnut/Saturn Peaches"! My fave variant! Ironically in chinese mythos "Saturn" is an earthquake star god - A Stone/Earth Monkey to look after the Earth God's Peaches.

Wukong seems like the sort of guy to plan way ahead when it comes to his fave fruit. Even as a little monkey I could see him eating a Peach of Immortality and deciding to plant the pit or graft a few sticks onto a FFM tree so those on earth could enjoy them. The grafting (basically Frankenstein-ing a divine peach fruiting branch onto a normal peach tree) in particular would produce a tree with hybrid fruit!

The hybrid fruit could act like a "lower dosage" for Macaque's condition, and still treat him albeit requiring more frequent consumption.

And with Wukong's special interest in medicine and herbalism; why stop there?

He could use the little islands around the archipelago for breeding new variants of peaches and other prunus fruits he can graft on to. He'd be more interested in the medicinal/healing properties than the "makes you live for hundreds of years" part, so he could accidentally make an entirely new breed of Peach that massively boosts physical health/treat rare illnesses, but also be safe for anyone not wanting the burden of living so long.

In Wukong's mind, if he could no longer treat Macaque, then he would help treat he entire world to the medicinal properties once exclusive to the Celestials.

Note: in the events of the AU, Heaven def finds out. Mostly because Wukong accidentally info-dumps during his appointments/check-ins with Lao Tzu + Nezha finds one of the FFM orchards during his bodyguard duty of the monkeys.

Xiwangmu is willing to let the peach theft be bygones IF... Wukong gives her a sapling or two for her personal orchard. The variants he's managed to cultivate are super tasty after all, and Lao Tzu wants one for his own medicinal research.

(We ended up calling them Vitality Peaches in the dms. XD)

Wukong wouldn't stop at making wine from his peach orchard; he'd make jams, desserts, canned peaches, dehydrated jellies, dried peach crisps, persipan/marizpan from the kernels, vitamin gummies, and ofc Popsicles from the juices and pulp. The Brotherhood could have eaten entire dishes made with the stuff and not realised it!

So when he confirms that Macaque is back home for good? He busting out the modern treats. He remembers Macaque not caring for the texture of ripe peaches, so a nice cooling popsicle is an easy thing to pack for the beach party without making it obvious that Wukong wants Mac to start having some again.

If Macaque learns that the peach and plum products he's been eating are in fact medicinal, Wukong can easily bluff and say the shadow monkey's immune system is 1300 years out of date and that he'd rather not have Macaque get super-sick from a modern sniffle.

Macaque secretly thinks the concern is sweet, but he really doesn't like being tricked into taking medicine. Just ask him next time okay Peaches?

Macaque will eventually figure out his condition from some digging around and his own summons to the Underworld to review his Draft Scroll. And he will be pissed that Wukong didn't tell him. Then he will hug him.

I ended up on a peach rabbit-hole while writing this as you can see.

#sun wukong #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #shadowpeach #lmk aus #lmk drafted fate au #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk hcs #lmk theories #jttw theories #jttw aus

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waokevale · 7 months ago

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A Clarification to Wormwood's Age (And why he's fully fledged without a shred of doubt)

So, as we all know or have heard some at point, there are still people out there, who think the peculiar lunar plantation is an infant, solely due to the way he speaks, behaves and of conviction that he was literally born yesterday. Which by all means is false.

That's why I'm here to finally dismantle that belief. I'll present you with several compelling arguments of mine based on throughout research I did on his character overall, and if by the end of this post, you'll still hold firm to that same opinion, then I'm afraid that's out of my hands by that point.

If you're willing to stay for the duration of this thesis, and hear me out, I'll be very greatful. And please do listen, so we may not make any more misconceptions as such about him in the future.

I'll be splitting this post into 5 segments, one with additional subcategories.

General Appearance

Behavioral Pattern

Intelligence

Character Interrelations

Canon Information

First of, let's start off with the obvious:

General Appearance

If we're going to interpret his appearance based on 'human qualities', then physically, compared to actual child characters, Wormwood's design is vastly different.

The easiest way for me to prove that, lies in one of the recent animations: (Swine & Dine), where all the (live) children are gathered in one place, alongside Wormwood and Wes.

Here, you can distinctly pick apart the difference between the three preteen characters, Walter, (who's likely supposed to be a teenager on the younger side; around 13-14), and the last two.

The most obvious difference is the jawline. Wormwood, for one, has a massive jaw, easily rivaling that of Maxwell's (while technically, this feature isn't reserved solely for adults, it is moreso common to see an adult with a define jawline, rather than a child.)

This, alongside his torso being usually depicted as an inverted triangle (at least in the official animations), seem to be features added intentionally somewhere post his release, as he looks much more childlike in his animation video, where he's still technically a sapling per se.

Even Several of Wormwood's skins showcase, that he is in no way meant to be seen in a juvenile way.

The best example of that being his Victorian skin.

Look me dead in the eye and tell me that's a child. That is one of the most indisputable old man portrayals, you can get from an anthropomorphic plant character in media. Do not try and argue, how a child is meant to look like that, because neither of the four actual child characters has a skin, which makes them appear that much significantly older than they actually are.

So what reason would Klei even have to make his skin look so apparently elderly, if they saw him as a child?

More examples of his mature skins could be said for the Roseate and Guest of Honor. While they're not outright elderly, as is the former, the general vibe is similar to that of other adult characters' portraits.

Now that we've compared him to human characters and their characteristics, we should take into consideration what he actually is. Let's remember, that at the end of the day, he's partially a plant organism and partially an inorganic crystal from the moon , certainly he ages much differently than us humans, or even most other constant species for that matter.

I'm pretty sure he was also formed with a fully developed body (since he seemingly bloomed shortly after forming, which is a trait reserved primarily for mature plants)

But then again, appearance alone isn't enough to make one truly adult, is it? Thus we're moving on to:

Behavioral pattern

Few things you'll immediately realize about Wormwood is his alleged naivety, playful nature and seldom use of grammatical correctness. Due to this, many immediately assume that he's a child, which is understandable, but not a good enough reason to make such an assumption.

There are many factors involved in building one's disposition, and in Wormwood's case, there's plenty of reasonable causes for his behavor:

As previously stated, he's quite literally a sentient amalgam of vines, brought to life by a jewel from the moon. His origin far disparates that of any known being, especially a human.

His mind develops much differently than that of an average person. This correlates with the point above (since its a big green gem in his chest and not an actual brain). Plus, he likely hadn't had the chance to have a proper education. While he seems to have picked up on a lot of mannerisms from the pigsfolk in Hamlet, I doubt anyone went out of their way to actually school him.

He's feral. The majority of his upbringing, he likely spent surviving in the jungle. In a way, he reminds me a lot of Tarzan (A human, who grew up raised by a troop of gorillas after his parents were killed. He can communicate with the local wildlife just fine, but deeply struggles understanding and relating to the outsiders; other humans, who one day arrived on his land.) That's likely the reason why Wormwood refers to certain creatures with mimicking the sounds they make. Perhaps he can understand them to a degree, or at least is trying to.

Just because he doesn't speak English, doesn't mean he's slow. It is plausible he speaks a different language, while English doesn't come naturally to him. As is the case with Wolfgang, who has similar speech impediment issues and struggles with saying full sentences, but that's quite literally because English isn't his mother tongue. It's been a running gag that Wolfgang is the embodiment of a European man, and whichever country/countries he might've originated from, it's definitely not the UK. As might be the case for Wormwood and whatever constant language he actually thinks in.

He has certain traits akin to people with autism/Asperger's or ADHD (Nonverbal communication, delayed language development, lacking social cues, sensitive nose, short attention span, hyperactive and somewhat impulsive behavior, wild or overexaggerated movement, struggle with fitting in, little sense of awareness etc.) And I'm speaking from experience with this one, he's quite relatable to me, and many of my friends on the spectrum.

With that let's move on to the third segment.

Intelligence

Just how smart is he truly?

Wormwood isn't regarded for his high intellect, that's for sure, but remember, intelligence isn't defined by just the book smarts society imposes on us. Therefore it doesn't always correspond to a person's age and experience.

Wormwood, while definitely not on a level of a Harvard graduate, is extremely intelligent and a quick learner at that.

Let's digest what we generally know about intelligence and what it really means for Wormwood.

With the main question at hand : What differentiates a child mind from an adults'?

While he certainly shares some personality traits with Webber, their mindsets are rather different.

I'd like to present my point with a simple method.(From that one Quora post, believe it or not, it was the most convenient out of all the theories and tests I found) Dividing that, which is known as thought process into five subcategories, of which are:

Cognitive Development

Life Experience

Responsibility and Independence

Emotional Regulation

Social and Moral Development

So let's start with Cognitive Development/Psychology

(Definition : The process of growth and change in intellectual/mental abilities such as thinking, reasoning and understanding. That includes: the ability to interpret information, verbally communicate ideas, appropriately apply words and gestures to given situations, recognize and differentiate various sounds, comprehend your surroundings, use past experience to resolve current or future problems more efficiently, etc. TLDR: How thought process changes with age ; Talking, hearing, reading, remembering, problem-solving, understanding, You get the point. )

By this point, Wormwood's acquired plenty of general knowledge of the world around him and what to expect from it. (In some cases, he seems to know things without realizing it, or simply wishes to not provide more info of what he's already aware of.)

He is capable of understanding various different things, applying appropriate words to them, when given the chance. He often struggles to properly phrase what he means, but you can still get around to grasp it.

And you know what? He's especially good at deducing things not every character can point out. Here are some of the more obvious to least obvious things he's mentioned:

Leaky teacup - "Can't drink from it"

Beaten Beater - "Hmm... Can't use it"

Start tower kit - "Need to plant it on the water"

Compass- "which way?"

N- "North

S- "South"

E- "East"

W- "West"

NE- "Northeast"

SE- "Southeast"

NW- "Northwest

SW- "Southwest"

(The direction one would seem pointless to add but let's remember that there literally are characters in this game who don't know which way is which cough cough Winona cough)

Clippings - "Can sell this hair"

Sapphire Medallion/Tenpiece oinc – "Can buy things now"

(the plant understands capitalism 👍)

Winona's GEM-erator (out of fuel) - "Oh. Needs sparky"

Telelocator Focus (missing gem)- "Needs Purple Shiny"

Telelocator Socket (missing gem)- "Where shiny things?"

The Queen of Moon Quay: "Oh...she thinks Night Ball is friend hair?"

(He might know who They are after all)

Beast of Hunger (1) - "Oh. Not alive"

(This, plus any other quote of his mistaking a statue or an object with distinguishable features as alive, does not make him dull; this world literally has statues coming to life. He simply uses a reasoning he acquired from living in the Constant.)

Rose-Colored Glasses – "Friends show Fixer friend secret things"

(Most character, barring Maxwell, Wendy and Wigfrid don't know about the glasses' true purpose)

Ancient chest - "Put stuff in there!"

(One of 4 characters to have an inclining what to do with it)

Greater Gestalt- "Protect"

Enlightened Crown - "Helps hear them"

(Okay, he definitely knows who They are)

Hound Corpse (reanimating) - "Coming back"

(He seems the least bit of surprised or disturbed by this, compared to everyone else)

Antlion (upset) - "Oh no. Needs gifts"

(interestingly, no one else seems to mention why the Antlion is upset)

Mysterious Energy- "Seed"

(...?)

Distilled knowledge- "Plant this in funny floor"

(he's the only one to have figured out what to actually do with it)

I think what we all can realize from going through his quotes, is that he's in no way as clueless as he initially seems. He has his moments, but so do the rest of the survivors.

Life Experience, Responsibility and Independence

This plant has lived through a lot, but then again so have the rest, a lot of them have faced countless hardships most of us can't even fathom.

From what we already know, the fandom generally believes he is very naive and trusting, which really isn't the case. The thing is, it's not that he's naive, he may not react especially negatively to a creature or thing because he's used to seeing bizarre things, or because he's not afraid of them, unlike the majority of the survivor cast, who are alien to the constant.

Barring the in-game mechanics which force characters to be competent regardless of their experience, we're going to focus on his reactions to mobs and items that might pose actual threat to him or others, or are considered as questionable by him.

Inflatable Vest - "Safe?"

Shadowcraft plinth - "Scary hands helping?"

Fish steak - "Watch for bones"

Candy Apple - "Careful! Don't eat stick! "

Platapine (sleeping)- "don't wake it"

Sentrypede husk - "Sleeping. Shhh"

Sea Stack - "Oops! Watch out!

Great Tree Root - "Oh! Don't bump into friends!"

Worm hole (open) - "Deep. Dark"

(When deerclops is near) - "Something scary coming!"

Pressure plate - Hmmm...Odd rock"

Dread mite (about to explode) - "Look out!"

Shadow Reaper - "No...Wants to hurt friends!"

Depth Worm (lure) - "Hmm... not safe"

Depth Worm (burrowed) - "something hiding"

Meat bulb - "Careful!"

[The fish quotes in DST + the candy Apple are giving me an image of him saying that to the child characters (and definitely Woodie for the latter)]

Independence-wise, the one thing I especially took notice of, is how much the child characters seek guidance from the adults in the group, mentioning them by their formal titles too. That's especially frequent with Webber, Wurt, and Walter, though Wendy rarely does this. On one hand, she claims she considers toys and fun to be behind her, but contradictory, enjoys playing with other children and some of the adults. (Besides we canonically know she's 10-11 years old)

Wormwood isn't known for wanting to seek guidance either. He's sometimes confused about how certain things work and thus will ask about it, but that's understandable given his predicament. (As @thebleedingalien once mentioned, he's like an extraterrestrial experiencing bits and pieces from 2 different worlds at once)

He doesn't really care to play with toys either, (barring a couple of instances, one being Bernie and the others; toys with wheels and Antlion's sand castle. But c'mon, I know some of you grown adults own toy cars/collectibles or build sandcastles when you have the tools, you can't lie to me and say neither of these things is fun. Plus, this post is literally about a video game character, and those, not too long ago, were considered childish.

And besides, adult characters in this game also goof around. There's the whole sand castle building thing in Shipwrecked, which curiously Wormwood doesn't have a strong opinion on.)

But if we were to compare his maturity to other adult characters…

(Wilson) [aside his many, many jokes]: Silk- "It comes from a spider's butt."

(Willow) Portal Exit - "It's fun to watch OTHER people fall on their butts."

(Wolfgang) Coral Nubbin - "Haha. Rock is bald."

(WX-78) Regular Jungle Tree (normal and stump) - "THIS DUMB TREE HAS A DUMB FACE"

(Wickerbottom) Weregoose - "My! What a silly goose!"

(Wigfrid) Plant (ready to be picked) - "Ugh, vegetables. I'm nöt sure what I expected..."

(Woodie) Ghost - "Boo! Ha ha!"

(Winona) Kingly Figure - "It's BUST-ed! Ha!"

(Maxwell) Frazzled Wires - "I might hide those in WX-78's bedroll if I get bored"

(Wortox) [But if we were to pick an example of many] Potato Sack- "Hyuyuyu, wouldn't it be fun to hide inside and give him a scare?"

Yeah, I think he's good.

In this section I don't really have much else to say. He can be cautious, he can be daft. He joggles the braincells alongside the rest of the survivors. But all in all, I would not consider him any more reckless or goofy than either the child or adult characters. Independence wise, while he can absolutely manage just fine on his own, his desire for companionship far outweighs that.

And since we've already talked about maturity, let's move on to:

Emotional Regulation

Despite common belief, Wormwood is not overly emotional. While, yes, he is excitable and easy to impress, he doesn't usually display intense negative emotions, unless something (more often than not wooden) is destroyed, or unless a plant or a creature he likes, suffers. But then again, in those situations, it's logical to display panic, worry and grief. Imagine if your family member or friend suddenly caught on fire and burned before your eyes... Yeah, I bet no one morally adjusted would be the slightest bit of composed in those kinds of situations...

Worse yet, the majority of the Constant is filled with plants, most of whom are his friends, the closest to his kind, beings which display varying amount of sentience...

In actuality, the children, including Wendy, display a shift in emotions much more often than Wormwood does.

Then there's Willow, WX-78, Woodie (birds) and Maxwell, who all have even less emotional stability.

In comparison, I'd say he handles most situations much more maturely and nonchalantly.

Social & Moral Development

Ah yes, the ability to difference right from wrong, morality, patos or however you would call it. Now this one's a little tricky, on one hand, while he may react strongly to a plant's demise, his reaction varies, when it comes to animals and structures. Sometimes, he doesn't really bat an eye, frankly, other times, he displays intense amounts of grief.

I guess that's the definition of selective empathy.

Curiously, he has 2 separate quotes for a pigeon. One from Hamlet, where he seems a lot more distressed when it perishes, and the other, from The Gorge, where he simply states the fact "Oh. Dead."

I'd like to think this was intentional to sort of give him that fading care many of us experience as we grow older.

Here's another example:

[Hamlet] Glowfly (dead) - "(sob)"

[DST, Host of Horrors update] Koalefant Carcass - "Braump...? Not anymore"

Regarding the other survivors; for the most part, he sympathizes with them. Though he doesn't panic much when they die from average constant shenanigans. He knows it's not permanent or consequential.

He does show sympathy, when some of the others' precious belongings get destroyed or damaged.

Winona's Catapult (burnt)- "Fire bad"

Winona's Spotlight (burnt)- "Oh. So sad"

Mighty Gym (burnt)- "Oh... poor muscle man..."

Or in some instances, when a character strongly disapproves of something/is emotionally hurt and he takes notice of that:

Nautipilot - "Robot friend doesn't like Pull Rock"

Mocking Bird - "Mean tweeters, hurt friends' feelings!"

What's interesting, is that, while he calls many creatures his friends, he specifically avoids calling Maxwell that. He even considers Lucy, Willow and Woodie his friends, which is just... wow. May he harbor a grudge against him for what he did to the other survivors? Something more personal? Or is it moreso related to the fact he's fully siding with the shadows... Most likely the former.

Overall I would say he's definitely more empathetic than not, and one doesn't have to care for every living being after all.

Character Interrelations

Regarding what other characters think of how old he is...

It's debatable, keep in mind, the characters don't have to be fully aware, or can misinterpret his age based on his behavior alone.

Most people just refer to him as "plant", unsurprisingly.

There's characters like Winona, who seem to intentionally downplay his age. Winona in her quotes refers to both Wormwood and Wilson (who's officially in his 30s) as 'bucko' (a lively, young fellow. Or in some cases a friend, or another version of buddy). As for her quotes for Bramble trap and Compost wrap, she refers to Wormwood with the terms 'lil plant fella' and 'little guy'. She pretty much just teases people who are younger than her or seem younger. Or she genuinely believes he's actually that young.

There's plenty instances of people calling him a variation of little, small or sapling, which might just be how they see him. Keep in mind, just because a character may think he's on the younger side, does not mean their interpretation is the absolute firm belief you should uphold.

Then, there's Wolfgang and Wurt, who both firmly believe that he's a grown adult.

(Wolfgang) Generic - "Is leafy green man, %s! Hello!"

Firestarter - "Leafy green man did a fire booboo."

Syrup of Ipecaca - "Will leafy green man be sad if Wolfgang doesn't have a taste?"

(Wolfgang only calls him little once in his quotes, because he calls everyone little, children though, he refers to as very tiny + boy/girl/child, so there's that.)

(Wurt) Attacker - "Ow! You mean old weed!"

You might think; why would I care about what a child and a man who's considered to not be so bright think? Well, my previous point about language barriers explains that. Besides, Wurt is a constant-born creature who builds an entire kingdom in her play style, by no means, is she clueless. She also refers to Deerclops and Antlion as 'She', while most of the other characters use he or it.

What's interesting is that Wickerbottom also tends to avoid referring to him with youthful terms, aside the obvious general one she uses for everyone and everything. If anything, she's more patronizing towards Woodie, Wilson, Winona and Wigfrid. (All of whom are in between their late 20s-40s)

Lastly, we have:

Canon Information

While there isn't much information relating to his age, there are hints in the game canon that explain that.

In the game's compendium, where reside the survivors' profile, backstory and description, three of the four kids have 'young' in their introduction. Barring Walter, who instead has 'boy' which is as much of a youthful term. Wormwood's simply stated as 'an amalgam of vines' not a seedling, sapling nor a young/little plant.

From his backstory, we know that:

"A green gem fell from the moon, landing on an ancient stone monument in the middle of overgrown rubble. Over a long period of time, a vine encircled the gem and eventually formed a humanoid figure sitting on the monument. The figure, Wormwood, opened his eyes and looked at his hands. (...)"

(Now this simply explains, that a lot of time has passed as he was forming, unlike what's shown in his animation, where his body instantly forms.)

There's also this part of his bio.

“Though the circumstances of his creation were unusual at best, Wormwood came into this world full of optimism and curiosity, ready to make new friends and see all that life had to offer. But as time wore on and he experienced the cold sting of rejection, he came to learn what the moon above had always known: Wormwood the Lonesome does not belong here.”

It's implied that a while has passed since his birth. Everyone assumes that he was just created recently and that he doesn't know anything, but as I've shown you previously, he's very perceptive when it matters. He has the knowledge and experience, even insight or a hunch. He is able to determine things others can't. Ever since Hamlet happened, his quotes gradually became somewhat more apathetic towards creatures dying, as opposed to the worry and care he previously displayed.

I wouldn't say he's exactly an adult the same way the human characters are, but he's in no way a child as many presume him to be.

(It actually kind of reminds me of how certain Greek gods are created; some are formed as adults, some grow and then eventually stop, and some come to be under very strange and specific circumstances, Aphrodite. But overall, you can't exactly compare their maturing process to that of a human.) Meanwhile, Wormwood is an alien plant with a crystal for a brain

So by the end of this post, are you still inclined to believe he's a child?

Was this completely unnecessary and took far too long to construct? Yes.

Do I regret making this? Nah.

#dst #dst wormwood #don't starve wormwood #don't starve #don't starve together #don't starve thesis #long post #he's a grown ass man #smh #if I see another person saying he's a baby or infantalizing him I swear–#Didn't spend months studying his behavioral pattern (pointlessly ik) for this

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lu-is-not-ok · 2 months ago

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Any particular thoughts on Fanghunt Hong Lu?

Yes, one very specific thought in fact.

Fanghunt Hong Lu is the most violent Hong Lu ID we have had thus far, being one that not only revels in violence like Tingtang Hong Lu or Hook Hong Lu, but also one that is actively shown torturing his victims in some genuinely stomach churning ways.

He is also the one Hong Lu ID which, while mentioning his Family, is one that doubts the very nature of what a family even is the most clearly.

This, to me, highlights a very noticeable pattern among Hong Lu's IDs.

When a Hong Lu ID is shown to be actively under his Family's control, he's either completely uninterested in violence (such as Liu) or so bored with the role he's forced into that violence is the only way he's able to push back against that boredom (K Corp and W Corp).

On the other hand, a Hong Lu ID that seems to be heavily disconnected from his Family is often one that is actively enjoying the violence he inflicts and is notably kind of fucking unhinged (Tingtang and Hook).

Fanghunt Hong Lu adds another nuance to that spectrum, being an ID that still has contact with his Family, but one who isn't specifically in a position chosen by them and who is led to doubting what a family even is by his experiences.

He shows us a possible outcome of a Hong Lu who has to actually reckon with reality and doubt what he knows about his circumstances, and the results are not pretty. After all, like I said earlier, Fanghunt Hong Lu is the most violent and most hate-filled Hong Lu we've seen up to now. He pulls out a guy's fucking teeth one by one for fuck's sake.

...And this made me think a bit. We actually have quite a few Hong Lu IDs with a Wrath Sin Affinity by now. However, Fanghunt Hong Lu is only the second we have with a Wrath Skill 3. The other one being, of course, Liu Hong Lu.

Both Hong Lu IDs with a Wrath Skill 3 seem to be to some extent aware of something being wrong regarding their Family, in very different ways that lead them into reacting to it very differently.

Liu Hong Lu seems to be aware of the fact he has no real control over what happens when he's under his Family's watchful eye, leading him into being the least violent Hong Lu of them all. He's aware of what his Family is doing to him, but he's unaware of it being abnormal.

On the other hand, Fanghunt Hong Lu seems to be unaware of the specific horrors of his Family. Rather, he's become aware that Family itself is a concept that he can't quite understand. He's seen Bloodfiends who abandon their previous families to be with their new Bloodfiend families, and it's a point of focus for him. What even is a real family?

...This, I think, is where Liu and Fanghunt Hong Lu differ the most. Liu Hong Lu knows he's being hurt, but he doesn't see any way out, that it's just how things are supposed to be, so he simply tries to live through it.

Meanwhile, though Fanghunt Hong Lu doesn't have that piece of the puzzle, he does have a different one - the seed of an idea that he could escape. Proof that one's "Real" Family doesn't have to remain their only family. He just doesn't yet realize what he'd want to escape from, so he channels the feelings he's experiencing because of that information against the immediate source of it. Instead of using that idea to free himself, he directs his anger towards those that actually tried it and succeeded.

I don't mean to keep pushing my "Hong Lu will go apeshit in Canto 8" idea, but like... The more info we get about him, the more likely that possibility becomes. After all, Fanghunt Hong Lu is a clear example of the fact that a Hong Lu aware of an escape route from one's Family could become extremely violent. That added onto the potential of Lorenzo's story told by the Priest being a parallel to Hong Lu, and the fact that the Sapling of Light Hong Lu is likely going to parallel is Chesed... It's all a lot.

#ask #superoffbatter #lu speaketh #hong lu lcb #limbus company #fanghunt hong lu #lcb analysis #yall are getting fed real good in the wait before the roadmap

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xenodile · 1 year ago

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Really though, FFXIV was both very smart and also shot itself in the foot when Shadowbringers introduced a character that exists to solidify the Warrior of Light's connection to the First. Like Feo Ul signing an almost literal fey bargain with the Crystal Exarch and WoL where in order to enable WoL's ability to travel between the two worlds seamlessly, Feo Ul gets unlimited access to another world and to watch the WoL literally every second of the day. It's a great way to explain otherwise jarring or tone-deaf game mechanics and make them work, while also allowing for new narrative possibilities, which are then worked into Il Mheg, Feo Ul becoming Titania, and all that entails.

But it creates a new set of issues where Feo Ul is now present in literally every single moment of the MSQ because They are bound by their contract to the WoL. Feo Ul can show up and start talking at absolutely any time in any context after Shadowbringers, and after a while, it becomes strange that They don't. Like when wild fuck shit starts happening to the WoL's soul in Endwalker, THEIR sapling's soul, Feo Ul really isn't gonna say anything? After how possessive They were of the WoL in Shadowbringers?

I just want Feo Ul to be relevant again, they're a fun character and it's a shame their actual omnipresence in the Warrior of Light's life doesn't get used more often.

#Abby plays FFXIV #Feo Ul

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enemywasp · 8 months ago

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i want your billdip headcanosn i recently watched gravity falls and i see such potential for them but id like to hear otherintwrpretations

The JOY I got at receiving this ask!!! Billdip has been my otp for years I've got so many.

Dipper is obsessed with finding answers and intrigued by basically everything, which is of course what drew him to Bill.

Bill finds the Pines family in general fascinating, they're his playthings and Obsession in his own way. Pinetree is the only one who he's really focused on though, the way he talks back and is determined for answers entertains him more than anything

Dipper needs Bill, he's the only one he can really decipher and understand as he's been bullied and outcast his whole life.

He's also the only one who can keep his busy mind occupied

Bill keeps Dippers nightmares at bay as he's got a lot of troubles from his adventures, doesn't mean he won't give him his own little dreams on occasion with a special cipher touch

Bill teaches Dipper magic and runes, mostly out of curiosity but he ends up silently impressed at how much he is capable of as a human.

They fight and argue a LOT. They're at complete different ends of morality, and that makes them clash. Though Dipper finds himself less and less concerned by Bill's behaviour as time passes, and if Bill happens to gain a soft spot... who can say anything.

I think there relationship would be initially built on a deal, something that protects the rest of the Pines family for certain. But Dipper is Bill's. He can do what he want with him.

They do have soft moments, despite it all. Dipper sharing stories of humanity that Bill would never truly understand, and the demon in turn sharing tales of the past and the universe itself.

Bill initially just wanted to use Dipper and manipulate him through whatever means necessary but instead he fell hard.

Bills only capable of a very obsessive kind of love, anyone who gets too close to HIS sapling should be wary.

Dipper has a moral crisis about weekly, he's dating a demon. Who tried to destroy his entire family. But god he can't pull away and Bill makes some very compelling arguments.

If and when Bill would be able to get his own human form it would be built specifically for Dippers pleasure and want.

Being human does make Bill seem more human, though he is of course still himself sometimes he finds himself feeling a new kind of fondness he never knew before

Dipper also sometimes forgets until he pushes too hard and his demon side makes it clear where they stand. Bill will always be the more powerful one in the relationship and Dipper will always be HIS.

I think I'm going to leave it there for now. But I could probably rant forever about these two. I tried to keep this broad so I can definitely do more specific hcs in the future.

#billdip #headcanon #send asks!#proshippers please interact

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mystery-salad · 1 month ago

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Canary through the years

In her court days her duchess thought she had a lot of potential as a pretty lure, rather than an active member like she wanted to be. Started trying to coax her growth into a form closer to her namesake, which she fought against in small ways that she could until she fled. Anyone could notice how she'd perk up at the mention of any mission, but wilt once her role of passivity is made clear. She secretly helped a handful of sapling captives make a run for it over the years before fleeing herself. Un-enriched pet behavior, kept messing up her duchess' court in trivial ways.

Her early years in the aetherblades were spent trying hard to distance herself from that image while refusing to give up her name just because the Court tried to sour it for her, which is why her ensemble palette changed so greatly. And to try and lessen the chances of immediate recognition, though her foliage color does make that near-impossible. She's shifted fully into a team fighter by the time lws1 rolled around and she's very proficient and leads one of the aetherblade fleet ships by the time of EoD, under the captainship of Mai Trin. She staunchy opposed Ankkas mutiny which resulted in being thrown out and left to face the effects of Zhaitans magic with the rest of the lab workers and any others too loyal to Mai Trin.

She melds the two color palettes when she eventually becomes Aetherblade Captain after Ankka, taking care of what's left of her found pirate family and helping the fleet get back on their feet with pirating once more. Her colors also get a lot richer in general due to her vainly overcompensating for her actual appearance under her glamour she has to wear now, ever since the reactor incident.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #gw2 fan submission #sylvari #gw2 sylvari #canary larkspur

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months ago

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Margaret Killjoy’s “The Sapling Cage”

TODAY (Sept 24), I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

The Sapling Cage is the first book in Margaret Killjoy's new "Daughters of the Empty Throne" trilogy: it's a queer coming-of-age tale in the mode of epic fantasy, and it's very good:

https://firestorm.coop/products/21646-the-sapling-cage.html

Lorel wants to be a witch, but that's the very last of the adventurous trades to be strictly gender-segregated. Boys and girls alike run away to be knights, brigands and sailors, but only girls can become a witch. Indeed, Lorel's best friend, Lane, is promised to the witches, having been born to a witch herself.

Lane doesn't want to be a witch. She wants to be a knight. So she and Lorel swap places, so when the crones come to their little hamlet to collect the girl who was promised to her, it's Lorel who steps forward, wearing the black dress Lane's mother left behind. None of the townsfolk rate Lorel out to the witches, and just like that, she is on the march with the coven, a whelp – the lowest ranking inductee, aspiring to "apprentice" and then, "witch."

What follows is, in some ways, a very expertly executed coming-of-age story. Lane is getting trained up with the coven, among a new cohort of whelps of varying degrees of friendliness and hostility. The world is a richly realized fantasy landscape of monsters and giants, magic and political intrigue.

Lorel has signed up for witching just as the land is turning against witches, thanks to a political plot by a scheming duchess who has scapegoated the witches as part of a plan to annex all the surrounding duchies, re-establishing the long-disintegrated kingdom with herself on the throne. To make things worse (for the witches, if not the duchess), there's a plague of monsters on the land, and the forests are blighted with a magical curse that turns trees to unmelting ice. This all softens up the peasantfolk for anti-witch pogroms.

So Lorel has to learn witching, even as her coven is fighting both monsters and the duchess's knights and the vigilante yokels who've been stirred up with anti-witch xenophobia.

This is a good, sturdy, serviceable plot, and in Killjoy's hands, it is expertly handled. There are lots of reversals and double-crosses, brilliant fight scenes, all the things you could want in an epic fantasy. And of course, it's a coming of age, with Lorel seeing the world and discovering who she is and brushing away the comforting half-truths and lies her elders have cocooned her in.

That's where the fact that Lorel is trans comes in. Lorel is figuring out what that means, but she's also very worried about discovery. After all, she's entered the company of witches, the last all-female cohort in the land, and these are powerful women – what's more, they're anarchists, leaderless and fractious. Who knows what happens if Lorel gets discovered.

So you've got this incredibly well-turned fantasy/coming-of-age story going on, and Killjoy figures out how to work in this gender stuff not just as a way of doing "representation" or "queer joy" or any other value that's orthogonal to the literary merits of this as an adventure tale. Nor does she simply integrate trans-ness as an unremarkable fact of life, another kind of statement (indeed, there's plenty of queer characters in this story who are matter-of-fact in this manner).

No, Killjoy uses the special complications of coming-of-age while transitioning to heighten the stakes and thus fuel the suspense of the novel. In addition to all the normal merits of diverse characters, Killjoy is using gender issues to crank up the story, winding it up to a breakneck pace that makes the pages practically fly past.

Thematically, there's a bunch of chewy stuff Killjoy does with the way that magic transforms bodies, making monsters out of witches who push their powers too hard. The story has all these changing bodies – children coming of age, Lorel coming out as transfemme, the transformation of magic-users into monsters. It's just another layer of depth that supports a zippy, run-and-gun quest tale.

I've followed Killjoy's work for more than a decade, ever since her days publishing the seminal zine Steampunk (motto: "Love the machine, hate the factory"):

https://firestorm.coop/products/2624-steampunk-magazine.html

Years later, I had the pleasure of instructing her at the Clarion West workshop. She's published regularly all that time, and this is by far her most commercial – and, I think her best! – novel (to date).

Today, Tor Books publishes SPILL, a new, free LITTLE BROTHER novella about oil pipelines and indigenous landback!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/24/daughters-of-the-empty-throne/#witchy/a>

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thesunloveschips · 2 months ago

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Eye of the Storm - Chapter 18: Renewed Desire

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes is a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

Chapter Summary: In an attempt to help them, Lucien invites the sisters for a journey. The shadows always take her side. Two years later, Azriel and Nyra finally let their desires take over. (SMUT FROM THE NEXT CHAPTER)

Author's message: From this chapter onwards, I will not follow the original plot. There will be a timeskip among other changes.

@feerique always and eternally grateful to you!!✨✨

Word count: 5.5k (Enjoy!!)

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

After the war, the Cauldron made Archerons were dragged into politics with Vassa’s request to draft a new treaty.

The twins worked on the draft treaty and correspondences while Elain helped out those affected by the war in Velaris.

And one fine day, Lucien paid a visit. Nesta answered the door.

“We’re the only ones here. You’ll have to go to the River House for the others.” Nesta sounded dull.

“My lady.” He bowed. “I’m here to speak to the three of you.”

Nesta blinked and quietly made way for his entry. She closed the door and held his gaze before she turned and entered the house. “Come with me.”

They moved towards the corridor and stopped in front of a room. Nesta knocked on the door. “We have a visitor.”

Papers shuffled, wood moved against wood, fabrics swished, and Nyra Archeron opened the door. The lightning wielder saw Lucien and exited the room, closing the door behind her.

They reached the backyard where Elain was planting saplings. Elain immediately turned and met Lucien’s gaze. Nesta cleared her throat. “He wishes to speak to us.”

Elain quietly set aside her tools, stood up, brushed off the dirt on her hands, and joined them. She looked at him, her gaze unwavering. “Yes?”

The male was now definitely entranced. Probably because she was addressing him for the first time.

“Before I begin, let me clarify that I’m not suggesting this because. . .” The autumn-born trailed away, looking at Elain. She tilted her head in a Nyra fashion. “I’d like all three of you to come with me.”

“Why?” Nesta was not even harsh.

“A change in scenery.”

Silence prevailed before Elain spoke. “The sunlight here is not that great.”

“What kind of change in scenery?” Nyra had only asked and Lucien had begun advertising all the different places he’d travel to after leaving Night.

“We’re not used to travelling. We’ll only burden you.” Nesta was cordial with her implied refusal but he was adamant.

“I’m going for diplomatic discussions. It won’t be hectic. It’ll give you more ideas for the treaty drafting.” Lucien paused looking at Nyra before shooting his next question. “And wouldn’t you like to see the world?”

The lightning wielder looked up at him, clearly intrigued. “Are you prepared for this?”

“I can only try, my lady.” He honestly answered.

“Do you understand what this means?” Elain finally asked.

“You are people. I know how to behave around people.” He answered, looking straight into those brown eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.” She retorted.

“I also understand that you’ll have your cycles. I have helped my mother with hers so there’s no need to worry on that front.” Elain simply blushed as her sense of propriety from her human life prevailed. “I’m a decent cook. And I’ll be ready for whatever you need of me.”

“You need not worry about cooking. We’re good at that.” Elain waved her hand.

“It’s not just the cycle.” Nesta sighed. “We’re different from other fae. We’re even different from each other.”

And Lucien remained persistent, silently meeting their gaze in turns.

“All right.” Nyra was the first to succumb.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.” Elain comment lightheartedly. Lucien only stared at her in disbelief.

“Fine.” Nesta agreed.

“Do you have any pending works I can assist with?”

Nesta opened her mouth to refuse but she halted. She contemplated the offer and met his gaze with more acceptance. “Actually, yes.”

“I’ll join you after this.” Elain nodded at him and quickly returned to her work.

“It’s nearly dinner time.” Nyra mused.

“Shall I cook something?” Lucien offered. The twins looked at him blankly.

“When I accepted your assistance for pending works, it was not for household chores.” Nesta wondered why he would even offer to cook for them right now.

“We can dine outside.” Nyra suggested.

“Eula’s.” Elain called from the distance.

“Eula’s, it is.” Nyra looked at the sky, its pink and violet hues bringing the night.

“Come with me, Lucien.” Nesta began. “I’d like your opinion on something.” The flame wielders headed inside.

Nyra continued to stare at the sky as she reached Elain. “Does his presence bother you?”

“Quite the opposite.” Elain whispered. “Is it the bond or is it him that calms me?”

“Maybe, you’ll know soon.” Nyra walked away.

An hour later, they had dressed and departed. Eula’s was a fifteen minute walk. Many people greeted Elain, having interacted during her daily visits to the city. Neither twin interacted with anyone. Lucien smiled politely at a few familiar faces. They reached Eula’s nearly half an hour later.

****

The shadowsinger was already sitting on the roof of the building opposite the one where Eula’s was. He’d seen Nyra as she walked with her sisters and that redheaded bastard.

Green silk wrapped her body and flowed with her every movement. Hair in a loose bun with curls escaping near her ears.

When was this female ever going to let him have his senses?

Every single time he saw her, she consumed him wholly.

He wanted to be near her, touch her, kiss her, and whisper sweet things to her.

Could she ever give him a moment to catch his breath?

And then he remembered.

She was going to leave.

His heart cracked.

And the shadows were wailing.

But if this is what was needed. If this is what she needed to regain her spirits. He’d support her.

****

Azriel winnowed in front of the townhouse. He was nervous. He felt pathetic. Maybe, he should’ve come after a while. They’d only just returned from dinner.

As soon as his shadows were about to take him away, the door opened.

Nyra watched him with wide eyes and took a step outside. The shadows stopped and let him be. More shadows were around her wrist.

Fuck.

This beautiful creature, brilliant and full of wonders. What had he ever done to deserve a mating bond with her?

“Were you leaving?” She whispered.

“Yes.”

“And now?”

“I want to stay.”

That moment filled with tenderness and intimacy they shared before the High Lords’ meet bloomed again. From when she’d kissed the corner of his lips.

“Come in.” She led Azriel to the office she’d taken over and he closed the door behind him.

Silence prevailed as she sat on her desk, now empty of all the papers and pens. Nyra looked at her hands. “I’m leaving.”

“I know.”

She looked up at him.

“They told me.” She nodded and looked at the black snakes crawling around her fingers.

Azriel did not know what to say. He wanted her to stay but if this is what she wanted then how could he say otherwise?

What if this is what she needed? A change?

Change helped him a lot. He learned how to fly, cook, sew, kill, maim, and so much more. Perhaps he’d changed for the better and worse.

The bond between them thrummed silently, a reminder of life. The storms in her mind were chaotic.

He walked forward and stopped two steps away from her. “May I?”

“What are you asking?”

“To touch you.” He heard her breath hitch. She nodded.

“Words, Nyra.”

She looked at him, eyes gleaming. “Yes.”

Azriel wrapped her in a hug, his entire frame covering her like a shield against the world. There was no one but them.

Nyra wrapped her hands around his torso.

“Be safe.” He felt her nod against his chest. “Be happy.” Another nod. “Write to me.” She raised her chin, rested it against his chest, and looked up at him.

Gods fucking damn this world.

She was too fucking adorable like this.

He never wanted to let go.

“You’ll write to me too?” She whispered.

And he smiled. “I’ll write to you too. But I may delay when I’m on a mission.”

“Mhm.”

Azriel brushed the hair away from her forehead and kissed her there.

“Have you had dinner?” She asked.

Azriel went rigid. “No.”

“Shall I prepare something then?” He was blank for all but a second before he began panicking. The shadows began cheering and panicking.

She’s accepting? No, she wasn’t.

She’s only offering food. She doesn’t know. Exactly.

Of course, she doesn’t know. Because he was a fucking coward, that’s why.

Should we apply for leave? No!

A month? A month? Why were these idiots going overboard?

Master hasn’t had sex in fifty two years. Owing to Amarnatha’s reign and the overload of work before his mating bond with Nyra snapped.

He’s become a beacon of celibacy.

Does master remember how to bed a woman? What?

How to please our mistress? What even?

He’s going to embarrass us. What in the everloving fuck?

“Have you had dinner?” Azriel managed to ask between his shadows’ commentary.

“Yes. I can cook-”

“I’ll eat at the House. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Nonsense.” She leaned back to look at him properly. Nyra seemed mad at how he spoke about himself. “You’re not a bother.”

A silence settled between them. He played with the baby hairs on her forehead and the side of her ears and Nyra enjoyed it as she felt ticklish.

“How are your nightmares?” She asked. His hand near her ear stopped playing with her ear and dropped to her shoulder.

“Manageable.” He was lying.

“And the headaches?”

“Tolerable.” Another lie.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Lying is a part of my job description. I’m famously good at it.” Azriel tried to lighten the mood with an awkward smile. She sees through you.

“Unbelieve.” She was playing with his hair when she traced his ears. He loved her touch. He wanted more of it. “Your ears remind me of when I was human.”

“Bad memories?”

“Bad and good.” She seemed to be lost as she traced the curve of his ear. Azriel sighed, her touch a reminder that the world was worth something.

She was still wearing that green silk. Her neck craned to look at his face and he only wanted to kiss her. This was unbearable.

“I’ll take your leave now.” He kissed her left hand and let the shadows take him away even as she called his name.

****

The next day right before dawn, Rhysand stood at a distance from the townhouse with Lucien. “Day Court?”

“Yes, I’ve received a welcoming reply for our arrival.”

Rhysand wondered when Lucien would discover his paternity. Politics was such a twisted thing and he only pitied the male who was unaware he’d be inevitably dragged into it even more than he already was. “If anything happens-”

“I know. You’ll slit my throat.”

“I was going to tell you to call out for me. If you’re anywhere in the Middle, then contact might be difficult so be prepared for greater risks.”

“Why would we go to the Middle?” Lucien looked at him oddly.

“You’ll find that your mate is curious about plant life in the Middle. The twins may be drawn towards the monsters.”

“The Weaver?”

“We won the war but three ancient gods are now free.” The twin gods and Bryaxis were released for war and were now free to roam the lands even though recent reports suggested their presence in the Middle.

“What if the monsters are drawn to them?”

“Elain’s power shouldn’t. The twins will.” Rhysand sighed. “I’ll ask Azriel.” He closed his eyes and sighed. His power thrummed and the next minute, the Spymaster joined them from a swirl of shadows.

“What?”

“Brooding already, brother? The sun hasn’t even risen.” Rhysand smirked.

“And what are you doing here?” Azriel coldly asked, turning towards a larger fae cloaked in greying rags.

The Suriel grinned, displaying its sharp teeth. Its face turned to the townhouse standing at a distance.

Nyra Archeron appeared at the balcony in a nightdress and a robe, stretching her arms. And then she turned to look straight at Azriel.

His breath hitched. If he could ever wake up to that sight, embracing that beautiful female, he’d count himself blessed.

“Blessed you are indeed, shadowsinger.” The Suriel’s ominous voice spoke. “And even more blessed you will be.” The wind took those words and carried them away to the world.

The Suriel took a step only to see a flash of lightning as Nyra emerged. It grinned and folded in the middle, a casual bow. “Greetings to the Sovereign of the Skies.”

Azriel’s shadows were with her, twirling around her hands and hair and the hem of her nightdress.

“Your robe looks fantastic, Conqueror of the Cauldron.”

At that comment, the shadows slashed the Suriel, dismembering a leg. It kneeled with the other and cackled. As though it had been misted, the ghastly creature disappeared.

Azriel walked over to her. The shadows had produced a cloak which materialised on her shoulders. They wrapped her up nicely in it, tying all the knots for her.

Nyra frowned at him, probably for fleeing like that last night. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the cloak. Fur tickled her cheeks and she removed her face. The cold made her blush. “Rhys? Lucien?”

“Hello, Nyra.”

“Good morning.”

“Hello, hello. Good morning.” She was unusually cheerful for someone who’d frowned at him.

Why did you run away? Here we go. Again. When were they going to stop reprimanding him like a child?

She thinks you rejected her. What?

You should listen to her when she speaks.

Oh fucking fuck. He didn’t. Azriel could never reject her. He would never dare.

“You’re in a good mood.” Rhys remarked fondly, a tone Azriel remembered had been reserved for Maia and now, Nyra.

“Nesta made hot chocolate. And none of us are having nightmares these days.”

“And you’re still sleepy.” Lucien eased into the conversation. Azriel wondered if last night’s dinner had increased the familiarity between him and the sisters.

“It’s winter.” She pouted. Azriel would have a heart attack any time soon if she remained that adorable. “I’d rather be in bed than anywhere else.”

“We’re to leave soon. I hope you haven’t forgotten.” Lucien reminded. They were going to leave this afternoon. The Day Court was the first destination.

“I remember.” And she was going to leave thinking he’d rejected her. But she was just too pretty for him to stay in her presence and remain sane.

Azriel took a step forward and she immediately glared at him and then turned to Rhys. “I need to freshen up. Meet you later?”

“We’ll meet you after breakfast.” Rhysand assured.

****

Azriel, being his calm, stoic self with no ability to communicate the deepest of his feelings, watched quietly as Nyra and her sisters left with Lucien. She spared him a withering glance before the party winnowed away.

Once they left, the shadows began screaming. You better write to her, you stupid male.

Beg for her forgiveness.

You’re a grown adult. Miscommunication at this age is disgusting. For a Spymaster, he had fucked up in communicating vital information to his mate.

Get your shit together before someone else sweeps her away.

There’s no shortage of males or females who’d want her attention and affection.

They wouldn’t shut up. They kept on screaming and yelling so much that he winnowed away to his mother’s house for comfort, knowing they’d behave around her.

****

Two years later.

Azriel knew he had fucked up. He was the one who’d proposed the idea of writing and he was also the one who’d stopped correspondence.

Despite Nyra being upset with him, they’d written to each other and then there was a mission that lasted too long.

He assumed that a pause warranted an explanation but his draft letters were unsatisfactory and he ended up not sending a letter or replying to hers. He even disappeared when she visited.

It had been nearly four months since they stopped corresponding and two years since she’d left Velaris.

Azriel couldn’t do this. He couldn’t live without seeing her, or talking to her, or feeling her. He wanted to lose his senses to her.

He was also scared.

Because she was his equal and identical in one particular aspect—they did not forgive or forget as evinced by how she’d killed her mother. And this much might have been enough for her to consider him a traitor.

And with fear and need, he finally showed up at the Archeron residence with her favourite cheesecake.

****

The living room of the manor was a scene from a horror novel. Probably because Nesta was glaring at Azriel from the armchair she had seated herself on.

“I’m sorry.” He bowed his head. He’d been so afraid of Nyra’s reaction that he’d forgotten that Nesta Archeron was a terrifying female.

“I hope you’ve made arrangements for your funeral.” She was frosty one moment and then gave him an overly cheerful smile. “I’m looking forward to that.”

Nesta was really looking forward to his death. Surely, Nyra was not that harsh. Right?

The door opened loudly and Nyra marched in, eager and bright as she called her twin. “Nesta, there’s. . .”

She was radiant in silver, he wanted to kneel and beg for everything.

His heartbeat felt heavy, the organ ready to break through his ribs. His mouth parted and throat dried and he did not say anything. He had no words no matter how many times he’d rehearsed his apology.

And then Nyra noticed Azriel, who stood up instantly. He was nervous and anxious and so many things but she simply dismissed his existence and started talking to Nesta about a new novel.

The twins chatted for not more than two minutes before promising to resume the conversation later. Nyra turned on her heel and headed towards the door when her name escaped his lips.

“Who are you?” She sounded like she’d met an unpleasant creature and she’d rather be anywhere else.

The shadowsinger flinched. “It’s me. Azriel.”

“Come to think of it. I knew someone by that name.” Thunder roared outside. “That Azriel who did not write for four months?”

“I-”

“Or was it that Azriel who did not bother showing his face for the past year?” Oh, she was so gloriously merciless.

“Nyra. .”

“I thought he was dead.” She smiled so sweetly and Azriel heard Nesta snort. “Since he did not visit or write.”

“I’m alive, Nyra.” He moved closer.

“Shall I rectify that?” Lightning crackled at her fingertips as she raised her hand.

“Please. .” It was foolish to avoid our precious mistress.

She spared him nothing before walking away. Azriel followed her. “Nyra. Please. Just listen to me.”

Nyra simply walked as if he didn’t exist and entered her room. He followed and caught her wrist. When she turned back, Azriel was greeted with indifference.

“I had a mission that lasted a month and I wrote letters and never sent them because I didn’t think any of them was adequate enough reply and by the time I wrote a decent letter, five months had passed and I’d already heard that you were furious and I-ow!”

Nyra smacked his arm, interrupting his rant. “What’s the point of writing letters if you can’t be bothered to send them?”

Azriel took a step back in response to her advancing towards him. He moved around the bed only to be chased after. She was furious. “You could’ve just visited.”

“I had another mission.”

“That’s what letters are for.” She grabbed a bottle of something and threw it at him. The shadows caught it and gently set it down where it was. “No, don’t protect him.” She took a pen. “Let him feel everything.”

“Nyra, please.”

“You fucking idiot!” The pen hit him. He caught the empty vase. Clearly, the shadows were siding with her. And then she grabbed a dagger. “You and your stupidity warrants everything I throw at you.” Exactly!

“Sweetheart, that’s a dagger.” Azriel only processed the sound of the weapon landing on the wooden column behind him. His wings dropped.

“You repeat this again and I won’t miss.” Gods, she was so beautiful—all feral and angry at him. At him.

Oh, this marvellous female.

He wanted to drown in her.

And she picked up a sword. Where did she even get that from? We gave it to her.

“Nyra.” And his every call of her name was a prayer. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” The apology did not have the intended effect. Lightning coursed from her palm to the sword. “How dare you throw your flimsy apologies at me after no contact for months?”

“I know. Let me-”

“Months. Months! And you think you deserve to be pardoned?” Thunder roared like a chained beast demanding freedom.

“My drafts were not good enough.”

“I did not want perfection from your letters, I wanted you.” Nyra threw the sword away and looked around for something else to throw at him. “I wanted to know if you were alive, breathing, healthy, and you delivered nothing.” She removed her slipper and aimed for his face. Azriel dodged it in time.

And she stopped pacing around, stopped picking up things. Nyra simply stopped and Azriel travelled through the shadows in front of her and took her in his arms.

“You were worried about me?” Azriel asked while praying silently.

Nyra struggled against his grip. “How dare you question that? You absolute-”

“I won’t. I won’t. I swear I won’t.” He hugged her tighter. Nyra began to relax. The shadows gently pried the sword from her hand.

Azriel picked her up and deposited her on the table. He let go of her but his hands remained on either side of her, supporting himself and cornering her so she wouldn’t escape.

Azriel leaned forward and brushed their noses against each other.

A soft feeling came to life.

The same as what bloomed back when they’d shared a moment before Azriel departed for the High Lords’ Meet two years ago. Before Nyra left Velaris.

The scales began leaning towards balance as Azriel and Nyra breathed against each other.

Desire renewed itself and buried affections began sprouting.

Azriel saw her eyelashes and her cheeks glowing golden under the lights. She was breathing heavily after her outburst as she watched her hands play with a strap on his leathers. And he was desperate to meet her gaze.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and let the thumb graze her collarbone. The hand ascended to her neck and stayed there while his thumb traced her chin and pushed it upward so that she would look at him. Midnight blue greeted him gently.

“Inconsiderate ass.” She mumbled. The warmth was returning to her and Azriel was relieved.

The shadows carefully floated over to her and one brave tendril tugged at her finger. She looked at it and turned her hand to show her palm as a sign of her consent. More shadows appeared. The remaining ones slowly brought to her many crumpled papers, all of it raining in the room.

All the drafts master wrote for you.

And for the first time, Nyra looked at the shadows in shock. Because she could hear them.

“These are his drafts?” She slowly looked around her.

Yes, drafts from the very first letter he wrote to you. He thought we threw it away but we saved. . . You can hear us?

“Yes.” She replied. And she heard them cheering like a little band of children.

And in the middle of it all stood Azriel, surprised that she could hear them.

Could you try to speak to us from your mind? That’s how our tactless master communicates with us? They sounded all too eager to talk to Nyra.

Like this? And when Nyra succeeded, they cheered again. She smiled at the dark wisps as they gently pushed her towards the dining table.

We’ve got cheesecake for you, mistress. And from a pocket of shadows, the cheesecake Azriel had purchased earlier appeared.

Thank you. She was happy.

I was the one who bought it. Azriel deadpanned.

Azriel? Nyra’s voice in his mind had him flustered.

We apologise on behalf of our master. He can be an idiot at times. The shadows easily intervened.

Azriel immediately raised his mental shields before contemplating. The mating bond now seemed stronger. Did that have anything to do with Nyra being able to hear the shadows?

Yes. He’s an idiot. Nyra replied dryly. What have you lot been up to? Surely not brooding by his side. She was utterly happy while addressing the shadows.

We missed you. Azriel was convinced the bastards were trying to flirt with her. And our master was the only one brooding because he was too afraid to send you letters.

Your master is an established idiot.

That he is. The woe to belong to someone as grumpy as he. The shadows had now begun bitching about him, right under his nose. He’s insufferable when he writes letters to you, mistress. His attention to detail is agonising.

“Why are you troubling them?” She watched him with an easy smile but his gaze had changed. It was heated and all the lightheartedness thawed, making room for something heavier.

“May I?” His voice was deeper than it usually was and Azriel was obviously looking at her lips. Nyra wanted this. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted this two years ago and even now. How had things not changed?

“Yes.” Her consent was probably the most commemorative thing that had ever happened in his life. Azriel brought his other hand down from her neck which pulled her closer by the hip.

Their lips were close. Still so close and still not touching. So when Nyra leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss, leaned back, and looked up at him intently, Azriel moved and devoured her.

Nyra loved his mouth on hers, his hand on the back of her neck. Absolutely enjoyed him taking control and demanding every bit of her.

Her head leaned back and even further and Azriel grabbed it before it hit the wall. When he moved a little away from her, leaving her gasping after their kiss, Azriel looked like he had every intention to make her moan.

“What. . .” She rasped, hauling air inside her like he was.

“Hold on to me.” Because he was not going to accept her grabbing anything other than him—not the table, not the sheets, it had to be him.

Her hands wrapped themselves around his neck, fingers combing his hair, nails grazing his scalp inducing a soothing sensation. “Good girl.”

His mouth moved to her jaw and descended to her neck, sucking harshly. She had such supple skin, he never wanted to take his mouth off her.

“Beautiful.” He looked up at her. She was flushed and breathless. Her hair messier than before, the straps of her gown removed from her shoulder, two purple marks on her neck and collarbone. And the sight of her hurt so deliciously.

“Tell me I can touch you more.” Azriel was begging now. “Tell me I can undress you.”

Nyra might’ve fainted right then. Or maybe she wanted him to make her faint. The shadows were too much. Felt too good with their fluttery touches.

She’d had sex before but . . what was this? This was new.

Was it because he was her friend?

Because she already found him attractive?

Because she’d already been half way in love with him?

“Yes.” Her hand cupping his jaw moved and she touched his lips with her thumb. Nyra leaned in and kissed him, relishing in the slow start and their passionate progress.

Her skirts were now a bother, forming layers between them. And her slippers, why were they not off? One of them was stubbornly dangling off her feet. And then she felt the cool touch of the shadows remove her slippers and slide up her legs.

“Do the shadows. . .” She broke the kiss and looked up at him. “Do they always participate?”

“They are?” He looked dumbfounded.

“They’re teasing my legs.”

Azriel spared the dark tendrils a glance, his eyebrows raised. “That’s a first.” He mumbled to himself.

Nyra did not understand why this new piece of information made her feel special. And she moaned, head leaning back and closing her eyes. They’d pinched her inner thigh. And Azriel eagerly bit her neck.

Her breathing was already heavy and stuttered. And Nyra wanted to fall, so down. But Azriel squeezed her waist. She opened her eyes to see this beautiful male starving for her, waiting to feast.

“Bed?” Nyra nodded quickly. He scooped her up, hoping he’d last long enough to give her pleasure.

It had been quite some time since he last had sex. Nearly fifty two years. Forty nine something years busy worrying about Rhys and plotting to get him back and around two years since the mating bond.

Restrain me if I’m too rough. Obey her without question or complaint. Because if he was going to do this, he had to ensure a safeguard for her.

Yes, master. The shadows solemnly vowed.

This was everything he wanted. Nyra in his arms and his mouth on her. And he would burst because this female was indescribably endearing. Her hand came to his shoulders and then on his chest.

“Off.” She whispered against his lips. “Take it off.”

Azriel tapped a siphon and the leathers on his upper body dematerialised. He removed his siphon-attached gloves and let the shadows set them down. He felt his boots unbuckle as the shadows helped him out of it.

Nyra felt the cotton of her sheets on her palms as she was set down by the side of the bed. Azriel leaned back and stood straight. Impatient at his own shadows for taking long, he yanked the boots from his legs and threw them away.

Meanwhile, Nyra gathered her hair and brought it forward from one side. The shadows immediately swarmed over to unzip the dress and pulled it down, helping her out of it.

Azriel felt tortured at heaven’s doorstep. Nyra in black made him want to kneel.

His hands went to his belt and unbuckled it with speed and ease. Unbuttoning his pants and letting the shadows pull them down immediately while he moved closer. His undershorts remained.

“Are you sure?” He placed a hand on her cheek.

Nyra was looking at him, his body. She placed a hand on his chest, on the scar left behind by Jurian’s spear. A reminder of the day her sisters were Made into fae. She stood up and kissed the scar.

She looked up at him coyly. “Do I need to write a letter that you might not answer?”

Azriel raised his hand to the back of her throat and ascended to tangle his fingers on her hair. Azriel pulled her soft, thick hair and her gasps were beautiful.

“I’ll write you as many letters as you want. For now, I’d show you all that cannot be written.”

Nyra smiled, amused at that. “There are smutty books. Many things are written in those.”

Azriel smiled faintly. “Not for us.” He kissed her ear. “We’re real.” He whispered.

Nyra’s knees weakened. And she sat on the bed as if she’d been dropped. And he was on his knees, parting her legs.

She leaned back, supporting her body with her elbows and watched his kiss and lick and suck her thighs.

She felt herself become more sensitive as each second passed. Her back felt the cold of the sheets. Goosebumps were all over her hands and upper body. Her legs were warm and wherever Azriel placed his mouth, Nyra felt heat.

And she could feel her damp underwear sticking to her. “Stop teasing.”

“Patience is a virtue.” He was so close. He kissed her inner thigh. Azriel had half a mind to rest his head against that incredibly soft thigh. Maybe he’d finally get some good sleep.

“I’m not feeling particularly virtuous right now.” To know that she desired him brought him peace and then his own desire rattled that peace.

“As if I’m any better.” Azriel chuckled faintly. And he bit her inner thigh once, pulled the fabric of her underwear aside and licked.

Nyra wanted to breathe. She really did. But Azriel was gently licking her as if he were savouring her taste. It was the first time but she would probably cry or scream if he kept on teasing her anymore.

Heat filled her as she met his gaze. Breathing had become a legitimate task because she couldn’t seem to do it unconsciously.

His hands which remained on her inner thighs moved. He now held her thighs from below and lifted it. With no difficulty, he’d placed her legs on his shoulders.

The shadows snipped her panties and disposed of it, leaving behind their cool touch. And Azriel whispered. “Lie down, Nyra. And take all of me.”

****

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