#boxing wounds

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 257

Now Danny loves space. He loves everything about it, to the point his core quite literally is space. And he’s also a baby ghost, even if he could argue he’s not in human form. But see, being baby has an honestly great consequence once it’s noticed- despite the Observants’ best attempts at hiding it, the assholes. 

Of course he would be far more worried- and even a bit pissed- if his caretaker wasn’t who it was. Look, he’d never met Clockwork’s siblings before, but apparently everyone was really against Clockwork himself adopting. 

But Clockwork as his uncle is fine. Besides, his caretaker is Space! Space itself is holding him, cooing gentle words in the sounds of the very cosmos. And they’re huge, like parts of their body going through portals so they can fit outside Long-Now sized big- and apparently Clockwork can get just as big and they can get even bigger- 

Okay, he needs to take a breath- even if he doesn’t need to breathe- to stop his squealing because holy Realms this is so cool. 

Space is awesome! And he’s getting so much more rest than he did in Amity- and even if Space sort of shrugged at the idea of school at first, they did help him set up online schooling. So there’s that, and it’s just the start! 

He gets to learn so much about space and it’s honestly kind of… nice? To be taken care of? And he can do whatever he needs for his Core and Obsession with only a few interruptions to take care of his living needs. Erm, sort of living needs? 

But even that gets turned into a bit of play or even a lesson too! He’s honestly having such a good time right now! He’s learning so much about spaaace! And dimensions! And interdimensional portals and- oops! No one saw that. 

Ahem- But he’s learning so much about space and getting to explore other dimensions with Cosmos! And sure he no longer looks as human as he once did and all that, but he’s seen so many people who also don’t look human that does it really matter? 

Of course it doesn’t, and he matches his sort-of-dad! Even though the streaks of color in their hair are more of a brown-red like they’re literally bleeding out the cosmos around them instead of it fading to void and space like his own. But still! They match and it’s fun! 

And they’re going to go on another trip from the in-between to one of the dimension realities! He’s going to start a game of tag this time he thinks! But no cheating with portals or bending space! Tag! 

Look, the Justice League? Not paid enough for this. In fact, technically not paid at all due to being volunteers (not that it stopped them from finding money in their accounts) but still. 

There is some sort of figure… being… thing… zooming around the asteroid belt, about the size of Earth itself. Let them repeat themselves. A planet-sized creature (are those hands or paws? Tail or simply its body stretching? Hair or the Abyss-) is currently darting around the asteroid belt like a child running through grass. 

That is, without noticing or caring if something bug-sized might be crushed. And they are very much bug sized, as the governments are concerned about. Like really concerned about. Like talking about trying to nuke the entity if it wanders closer sort of concerned. 

Which they are all very concerned and very much like, against. Because it isn’t seeming to notice the asteroids it’s knocking into their area. It’s like… not a space whale or eel or anything like that but also is something like that. 

And they would also maybe like to see if they can attempt to talk it down first maybe and-

oh. 

Oh. 

That creature is the baby. And mama just arrived, stretching across the entire galaxy, from them to Pluto and beyond, like something took the cosmos and shaped it like clay into some sort of form. Like reality itself has wandered into their galaxy with what they are suddenly realizing must be a very young child. 

Shit, they really have to make sure no one tries to piss either of these things off-

[aquanutart]

"little miss prairie faerie" is a cute name actually... (but I won't use it if she doesn't like it)

[francixoxoxo]

🂱 Dogs’ White Teeth ☠︎︎

𝐁𝐨𝐱𝐞𝐫!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐗 𝐑𝐞��𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬, 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡-- 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥.

Coryo wasn’t a violent guy. He didn’t know why he fought in the ring.

That’s what he told himself. He wasn’t violent, ‘cause he didn’t deck the first guy who looked at him funny. That was Coriolanus Snow’s logic. He wasn’t violent, ‘cause he felt nothing as he pounded the punching bag until his knuckles bled, he only felt a thirst for cash. Not blood.

But the first time his glove connected with a guy’s stomach? Oh, Coryo was violent. He’d never admit how stupid gratifying it was when he threw a punch to knock the other dickhead’s lights out.

Coryo shouldn’t be with you. He doesn’t deserve a girl like you, he could live a hundred times over and never deserve a girl like you. You’re kind, and generous and so, so thoughtful and fucking smart, you’d think you’d be smart enough to stay miles away from him.

But no. Here you are, standing in the dingy basement the fights are held in, among a crowd of shitty and disgusting people— Coryo’s people. Not yours. He’d rip his own teeth out before he let them be your type of people.

Speaking of which, he has one of his guys standing beside you, a looming warning that nobody could touch you. Coryo knew somebody would try. You were wrapped up like a piece of candy in a prison yard, and he was nothing if not protective. You already didn’t belong in the dank room, watching your boyfriend either scramble somebody’s brains or get his brains scrambled— he got some peace of mind knowing you atleast weren’t alone in a crowd of violent assholes.

Coriolanus was a good boxer. A damn good fighter. Of course he knocked the other guy out, short and burly with a mop of stick-straight hair, by the time Coryo was done he was missing a tooth. Coriolanus was baring his own teeth in a sneer, lip curled and nostrils flaring as he spat out a bit of blood onto the ground beside the man.

He stumbled a bit as the referee grabbed him by the forearm tugging him to his feet and raising his glove up to announce his win. Coryo's bare chest was heaving, covered in a sheen of sweat. His nose was surely broken, blood drying under his right nostril, his eyes wide and crazed as he looked 'round for you. A crooked smile split his lips, revealing his maroon mouthpiece as he lifted his brows at you.

Coryo, bloody and battered, was definitely a sight.

Maybe it was wrong to find it so hot, as you cheered with the rest of the crowd for him. But that attraction always, always delved into a distraught concern for your boyfriend by the time he was in the locker room.

Coryo lifts his head as he hears footsteps. His elbows are on his knees, his hand that had been rubbing his shaved head falling down as his lips pulled into a smile. “Hey, baby.” He’d cooed to you while you stepped close, slotting yourself between his spread legs. His hands found a home on your waist as he grinned dopily up at you.

“Hi.” You mumbled, your hands cupping his cheeks. Your brow furrowed, you gently pressed both thumbs along the length of his aquiline nose. Coriolanus curled his lip and grunted at the pain, you sigh. “You broke it again.”

“It’ll heal.” Coryo shrugs, watching you with puppy-dog eyes as your thumb swipes some blood from under his nostril. He rubs your hip affectionately as a thanks. God, he was love drunk. Absolutely whipped for you. He just hated how much he made you worry. Coryo didn’t think himself worth your peace of mind.

“Oh, but it looks like it hurts.” You frown, your thumb dropping down to brush over his busted lip. Your gaze trails over his blackening eye.

Coryo shakes his head a little, pressing a kiss to your thumb pad. “I’ve had worse.” He reaches up, clasping your hand in two of his. He thinks he catches a smile, but it quickly falls when you see the state of his hands. Bloodied and battered, his skin split at each knuckle, your expression melts.

He doesn’t protest as you reach for his bag, rifling through the duffel. When you find what you need, you slip into his lap, your knees straddling his hips. The boyish grin that splits his face is almost hilarious as you reach for one of his hands.

The alcohol wipe is ripped from its packaging with help from your teeth. With a tender, delicate touch, you swipe the pad along Coryo’s knuckles. His fingers flex against the sting, his lips pulling in a grimace. “It’s not that big a deal.” He whispers almost plaintively, pressing the concave ridge of his nose into the slope of your shoulder like jigsaw pieces.

“It’ll make me feel better, how about that?” You huff, letting go of his hand to fully unravel the wipe and clean the blood caking on his skin. His nostrils flare, but he nods. Coriolanus watches as you lean for the bench beside him. His hand on your side tightens to keep your balance for you as you grasp the roll of bandages, coming back upright and wrapping the material around his knuckles.

He lets you go about fixing him up (though he’d argue there wasn’t anything to fix, nothing worth your peace of mind,) with surprising lenience. Only when he grits his teeth against the sting of alcohol on the other hand does he speak. “You didn’t bet on me, did you?”

“I did.” You let a faint smile creep across your features. Your thumb brushes along his metacarpal bones. Coryo scoffs, averting his eyes with a shake of his head. “I told you not to.”

“So? You won anyway.”

“It’s the principle.” He insists, his nose brushing your jaw as he cranes his neck forward in frustration. You orbit those bandages ‘round his hand, on and on until you’re satisfied. “What principle?”

Well. On plenty of things, Coriolanus thought. He wasn’t something to waste money on. He wasn’t even something to waste time on, frankly. There wasn’t a point in putting in effort with him. He felt a bit like a vicious mutt; who cares if he’s got a muzzle on him? Or if he can sit, and fetch, and give you paw? He bites. In the end, he will always bite.

“What if I lost?”

(What if he screws up?)

“You’d lose money. It’d be a waste.” Coryo mumbles, presses a faint kiss into the tender skin of your neck. Your pulse is warm under his lips.

(You’d lose time you could be spending with somebody… he doesn’t know, better.)

“It’s not a waste. It’s just trust.” You shrug, and he wonders for a moment if you can crack his head open like a walnut, peer inside and read his mind like a book; one you were simply rereading for lack of new novels.

With his newly dressed hands he rubs his palms over your back. Coriolanus studies every crease of your face with a strange reverence, his brows tense for a brief moment to match the divots twixt your own. “You shouldn’t bet on losing dogs.”

Your shoulders lift, fingers sneaking ‘round his head to run your nails through his cropped blonde hair, “Who says you’re a losing dog?” A laugh sings from your lips. Coriolanus only smoothed his hands down your waist, his own lips pulling taut in a guilty expression.

You’re putting all your money on him, and it’s not literal. You love him, that much is true, and that much is too much. It tightens his chest, it chokes the air from his lungs and the pink from his cheeks. Atlas had a puny burden to carry, since he never had to fear letting you down.

Come on now. He just made a couple hundred bucks off of decking a guy until he looked more beetle than boy— all spasms and twitches and whimpers that make Coriolanus’ head spin with a power trip to put vermillion behind a man’s eyes. They all say violence is gut-churningly horrific, and maybe it is. But it isn’t if you’re winning, if you’re the one with his fist curled. If you’re the one landing on top.

Coriolanus is the kind of guy to get high off the crunch of somebody’s nose under his glove. You creep into the deeper corners of his mind, weaving cobwebs to lay in and inadvertently instilling a disgust, a self-loathing that not even a parent could plant. You don’t mean to, sure.

He wants to be better. He wants to cut his bad leg, he wants to behead the serpent in his belly, so that it’s safe for you to reach your delicate little hand in there. He wants to be deserving of all the goodness you wreath him in.

He’s fully aware you deserve a guy that doesn’t have to carve himself to be good to you. What can he say besides Snows tend to be selfish?

Coryo would slit his skin from his Adam’s apple to his navel to let you crawl inside. But he’s certain. It’s in his nature, it’s his body, not his heart and not his mind, that will reject you like an organ donation, will spit you out. Perhaps you would fit better elsewhere, in another man’s cavity, for his is too large to be comfortable. He felt like a scrambling man trying to sew you in, a rare organ, a piece that he’d fill his own gaps to make fit.

“All roads.” Is all he could whisper, his azure eyes glassy, hoping that his eyes were glassy in the sense of a window pane. That way you could see without forcing him to wrap his tongue ‘round the words, which is getting increasingly difficult. Coriolanus speaks like an Olympic sprinter, he’s sure that he’ll chicken out of it if he takes his time. “All roads lead to Rome, to me being a shithead.”

Your lips pull taut. For a moment, a gut-churning, pain-staking, bile-rising-to-the-throat moment, Coryo thinks he got through to you. Maybe you’ll dump him right there in the locker room. He didn’t think the prospect would put such an anchor in his stomach. Again, he thinks, Snows tend to be selfish.

But then your lips are moving again, your hands are bracing the back of his head with intertwined fingers, your perfume filling his nostrils and distracting from the dank stench of the locker room, it’s not too strong, it’s the best thing he’s ever smelled, but he can’t focus, he can’t, words the greatest poet couldn’t conjure after a lifetime of pensive thought are rolling off your tongue, somehow to him, somehow all of this is for him, and it’s all so sickly sweet that he’s dizzy with it.

“You’re doing your best.” Already your visage is blurring like ink in the rain. He believes he’ll chew through his cheek. “You don’t see what I see, Coryo.”

Damnit. A pearly tear slips down Coriolanus’ flushed cheek, the scarce light shooting diamonds from his azure eyes, your hands twisting to hold his face. He looks like a boy in your hands, and if it weren’t for his purpling eye, his lip split, you think he’d pass for a little boy.

He sucks in a breath through his nose as your lips connect, his lip painful whether the kiss was tender or bruising. Coryo was fierce in his love, fierce in everything about you, always, but oh, how grateful is he for how soft your lips move on his. His hands roam to the plane of your back again, a relieved exhale leaving his nostrils against your cheek.

It didn’t seem to matter whether Coriolanus thought you fit into the crevice (gaping hole, ravine, sink hole, call it what you will,) of his heart or not. You found your way in, you’d crawled deep into his heart, his body, his soul, and sewn the door behind you. How silly of him to believe that he had any choice in allowing you in or keeping you out. How foolish to believe that if the hole in his belly was too weeping for a single other soul to fill, that you wouldn’t stretch your arms high above your head and your legs as extended as possible.

How utterly idiotic of Coryo to believe that the hollow in his chest was a tower to selfishly keep you in, and not your rightful home.

[adam-stanheights-right-hip-bone]

I think about Eric Bogosian’s line delivery on “he didn’t save you, LESTAT did” all the time. I roll it around in my brain like a marble. Daniel really went from “he only hit me the one time, officer” to world’s #1 Loustater. Real of him tbh

[mirensiart]

Gonna be honest. In your comic Ravio felt the Wolfie pain too...

I dunno why, but I can imagine him immediately wondering what the fuck was that. And then it happened again and boy howdy was he mad.

YEAH

it's why he wanted to sell legend's stuff as a form of revenge cause he's so annoyed over the pain lmao it's also why he makes the comment about legend being careful since they're connected, but he doesn't know it's another hero's fault lol

He also felt twilight's heartache (which I suppose he could confuse it with legend's usual heartache over Marin, so nothing too weird there)

Legend's usual joint pain is normal to him, so he wouldn't really react to that

But then he woke up that morning with scalp pain thanks to wild's intense bed head and the multiple failures to untangle it lmao and that's when he went "OK NO, I'M SELLING HIS STUFF NOW" lol

[boxeom]

DA: Veilguard (MAJOR SPOILERS)

Just realized something now that I'm on my second run of the game...

When Rook and Solas meet in the Fade prison after the ritual is stopped, Rook brings up Varric- and Solas has an immediate reaction to it that I didn't look much further into my first time playing.

Rook then goes on to say that Varric was "hurt".

I really have to give credit to the VA, writing, and animation of this scene. Solas interjects quickly; "Varric is-". You can hear his sorrow, regret, and frustration for killing Varric for just a moment. His body language is quite honest in this scene. Very flustered, just as panicked as Rook. For just a moment, he's Solas. He's sensitive, wounded, and exposed.

Then, in such a short span of time- only taking a second or two to realize that Rook doesn't know he killed Varric- Solas trails off. He looks to the side in thought. You can literally SEE the gears in his head moving.

His expression almost relaxes- it hardens. You can see the tension in his shoulders loosen just a bit. It's like we see his mask that is the Dread Wolf return. He has an opportunity here, and he intends on acting on it no matter what.

He focuses, he stares at Rook, and his tone becomes much more even. He seems less panicked than he did before. The animation here is just absolutely beautiful to me. Once you know what Solas truly does to Rook, you can see it in his eyes. That sharpness and cunning that the Dread Wolf possesses comes through in this moment. It's super fucking cool to actually see Solas conjuring his tricks in real time.

That is the face of a mf who knows what he has to do. I interpret this expression as one that starts to see Rook as just that; a rook on his board of chess against Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain rather than the gigantic thorn in his side he originally thought of them as. He comes to terms with the fact that he'll use blood magic in a matter of seconds. You can see that he knows he'll regret it, but (as always) his drive to finish what he started outweighs anything else in the end. It's all so damn subtle and it speaks to Solas' character on so many levels it makes me want to throw him off a cliff and give him a gold star at the same time.

(Screenshots courtesy of Backseat Guides on YT: )

[gods-perfect-idiots]

something something blood-soaked hands cradling your face something something

anyway here's the post btw

[hiorintruther]

I think hiorin is absolutely winning right now with the Egoist Bible. First of all, you can make a solid argument that Rin fits Hiori’s ideal type, the thing that makes Hiori happy, AND Hiori’s fetish. (Note: while his fetish uses a woman as reference, his ideal type is gender neutral and he said he received chocolate from a guy on Valentine’s Day while specifying that he rejected a girl in the year above him, so any ‘straight Hiori’ arguments mean nothing to me).

Hiori’s ideal type is “someone who can leave me alone”, which fits Rin absolutely perfectly. Rin wouldn’t be clingy, needy, overbearing or smothering. That’s exactly what Hiori wants in a partner. Of course they would still be intimate, it’s not like Hiori would want to be alone 100% of the time, but he wants someone who knows to take a step back and let him have his space when he wants it.

Likewise, the thing that makes Hiori happiest is “being left alone”. Once again, Rin would not be constantly hovering around Hiori, needing Hiori’s attention or getting upset when Hiori doesn’t smother him with love.

Hiori’s fetish is “fractured girl fetish”, which everyone is still a bit confused by but it seems to be referring to seeing injuries that are bandaged up (he specifically references the actress Todo Erika in SPEC, where she wears her arm in a sling and cast). It’s a bit fucked up (not to kink-shame) but then again Hiori is a self-described ultra-sadist so I’m honestly not surprised at all. Now then, out of everyone in Blue Lock, who have we seen get injured multiple times and need to be tended to? Rin. Not only that, but Rin’s predisposition to violence and getting hurt is a part of his truest nature. He was scolded and considered weird for it in his childhood and would become nervous if his parents were about to tell him off for his destructive tendencies. So imagine Hiori, someone who categorically does not mind that Rin is this way, wants to help bandage him up and tend to his injuries, and never once scolds him. We know from the U-20 match that Hiori’s first instinct is to ask Rin if he’s alright and help him, but now there’s the added layer that Hiori would enjoy seeing this side of Rin, not being weirded out or put off by it. I think for Rin that would be a massive relief. Hiori wouldn’t be actively trying to hurt Rin or encourage him to get injured all the time, but he would accept Rin for the way he is and never be disappointed if Rin turned up bloodied and battered, in need of bandaging up.

We also got other info which I think can be used for hiorin too. Hiori is now a confirmed Dead By Daylight player, and since that’s a multiplayer horror game I think he would enjoy playing it with Rin (who as far as we can tell only plays horror games). Specifically, Hiori likes to play the killer, so Rin would get the thrill of fighting for his life even if it destroys him while Hiori gets an outlet for his own sadistic mindset.

In the character rankings, Rin and Hiori were ranked 1st and 2nd respectively for who would most likely have psychic powers. Hiori also ranked first for ‘best listener’ meanwhile Rin ranked first for ‘worst listener’. Rin might be hard to get along with but Hiori is the immovable object to Rin’s unstoppable force.

Then of course there’s the stuff we already knew from the Twitter QnAs. Hiori and Rin both love ochazuke. They both game. Hiori’s favourite season is the rainy season which nicely compliments Rin’s connection to water.

Honestly we have so much fuel to work with. Hiorin doesn’t get a lot of canon material at all in the main manga so it’s nice that the extra info provides so much fuel. I doubt any of it is intentional but we have a really nice basis to work with regardless.

[corrodedbisexual]

"For your modesty, dude"

[bacchuschucklefuck]

actually one more thing kristen was so clutch this ep with that mass cure wound while not a single one of the rat grinders has gotten a heal from their own team that's so dire . like you know essays can be written abt that right

[birdmitosis]

💔 for the chapter 3 princesses?

💔 An angsty headcanon

Like Tower before Her, Apotheosis cannot really emotionally connect to individual people, but while Tower would be unhappy and lonely if She never had people around Her at all, Apotheosis has trouble with that. Individuals are just so small, even if they wanted to get near Her. The Protagonist would be the only one who could ease that for Her; without him, Apotheosis really is a supremely lonely god.

Den can still hear the cabin and the basement -- Her cage, Her pit -- talks to Her. It's why She's starving, malnourished. It tells Her that She deserves it after what She did.

Eye of the Needle, if Adversary progresses to that point, is far less capable of being able to readjust to a more normal life. She has gotten to a point where She constantly feels unsatisfied by never having the fight She was denied. She might not be forever doomed to that, but She may fall into the trap of eternally searching for it.

Fury's rage is stoked by a severe self-loathing. She hates what She has become and hates the Protagonist for turning Her into it. Without the Protagonist around, that rage is still there, but Her self-loathing eats at Her more. She is less than what She was, She thinks, and She can never get it back. She was denied that. She takes this to mean She can never be better, so She embraces being worse even though She doesn't want to. (As a less angsty headcanon, this makes me think She might get along with Witch/Thorn/that version of Wild.)

Burned Grey remembers trying so hard to accept the Protagonist destroying what few small desires She had: to leave the cabin with him, and to not die. She tried to accept his decision, even with tears in Her eyes, but now She accepts Her desires fully even if they hurt both Her and him. She would, I think, be the vessel most upset about never being allowed Her wish in the end if not for the full understanding that seems to come with reuniting with the Shifting Mound.

Drowned Grey cannot emote and cannot quite access Her own emotions in Her death. Unlike the Burned Grey, where the dry heat that consumes the entire Construct is an expression of Her desire to burn it all down and destroy it all -- which She fully feels and is aware of -- the constant rain in the Drowned Grey's route is Her sorrow fully externalized. She can't cry and She can't even quite feel like She wants to cry anymore, but the Construct itself weeps. She thinks that drowning the Protagonist is making him feel how She choked on Her own blood... It isn't, but She does want him to feel and understand Her: the emotions She can no longer access, She needs him to be fully faced with Her sorrow at being betrayed, at not being trusted, at not being understood.

Moment of Clarity is as broken down as the Protagonist and any of his voices. They are not the only ones who have done all of this over and over and over and over and over again, after all. And they have all exhausted every other option before finally freeing Her solely because they can no longer avoid it. They can no longer do anything else. The tender moment She shares with the Protagonist is almost despite Herself... He is finally, finally letting Her out and it almost looks like he made the choice to do so. She can almost pretend he made the choice to do so. But he tried so hard to put it off until choices just didn't exist for either of them anymore, didn't he?

Thorn still has so much Witch in Her. This isn't the headcanon; it's obvious if you choose literally any of the options other than finally freeing Her. My headcanon is that She would, of course, sometimes continue to backslide into being more like Witch in negative situations. And She would hate it. There'd be a lot of uncertainty in Her still if She could actually be better, if She wasn't still the worst.

Networked Wild, if She could actually escape like that -- even with the Protagonist and the voices -- would still always feel incomplete and too afraid to ever risk looking at and facing what She'd done, what they had done, and what it might mean for all of them. They would probably always be doomed to fall apart at some point.

Wounded Wild feels incomplete, even if She will always feel grateful for the kindness, empathy, and companionship She receives "despite" being incomplete. Maybe She can work past that eventually, but it will take her a long time, and also a long time to really feel okay facing who and what She had been and done. (Again, a slightly less angsty headcanon, but I think this means Wounded Wild-from-Beast would get along well with Thorn.)

Wraith wants so, so badly to be able to heal Her relationship with the Protagonist and to forgive him and the voices. She wants it so badly She can't let herself realize it. The one moment She allows herself to is when, if they toss themselves and Her into the abyss, She asks "WHY DO YOU HATE ME?" Her laughter that follows is at Herself for Her folly.

SPECIAL CASES:

Arms Race/No Way Out doesn't know how to be anything other than a weapon, doesn't know how to do anything other than hurt the Protagonist. Doesn't know how to want anything else. She is joy in Her purpose, but She is nothing outside of it. She likes him, yes, but She doesn't know what to do with it. She is -- ironically, given the name of the alternate Chapter IV -- empty, maybe even more so than the Deconstructed Damsel.

Mutually Assured Destruction/Empty Cup panics because She does not know how to be anything other than what She is. If She steps out into the unknown -- if She changes -- what is She? Is She nothing if She is not the one who hurts the Protagonist? All She can do when Her armor and sharp edges crumple and strip away is to put Her heart in his hand and trust that he will be able to lead Her to what comes next.

Stranger doesn't have a Chapter III at all, but so They aren't left out entirely: what happened shook Them all up really badly at first. It wasn't just Harsh, Neutral, and Soft all pleading with the Protagonist at the end of their chapter, but Emo and even Monster as well.

[puppetmaster13u]

have a very early wip of a tea party :>

This is @phoenixcatch7 's Possessed Doll Au

[ego-osbourne]

...is velehk okay

yeah probably

The Daedric on his arm is my own fake Daedric, spelling QASI, meaning “silence”

[ajarofpickledtears]

*cabinet with a mirror, usually placed above the bathroom sink, having regular medicine like painkillers (but potentially also any prescriptions you have) and first aid supplies

[patriamrealm]

What would Liam and Sabi look like when they do gain their aspects?

Ye! Lian gets his while helping Akari quell Lord Kleavor and Sabi get's hers a few months after the end of the red sky.

[mirensiart]

genuinely so curious of the shared pain au, especially how it applies to rulie

like if the gang were hurt would he be able to heal all 9 of them with a single spell? would it take 9 times the usual effort to do so as he’s technically healing 9 wounds? if that’s the case then im sure that’s fun if he’s ever bleeding in his own era

(also the potential for mutual 9 person migraine (thanks four))

Oh ok so a little explaining!

the pain sharing au is based on the anime kiznaiver, in this anime 8 people are linked and when one feels pain, all others feel it, but it’s ONLY pain that is shared, not the wounds.

So for example, if wild were to get a cut, everyone would feel his pain but only he would have the cut. If the cut is healed, then everyone stops feeling the pain as wild himself is no longer hurt.

to answer your question: hyrule would only need to heal the wounded link to relief everyone and himself from the pain!