#does this make any sense. i have a terrible headache but i was thinking and i needed to write it down somewhere

[conningconvert]

I’ve been thinking about Jesus a lot lately, both for school and personal reasons. Mainly his nature, both fully divine and fully human, and what that means.

Now forgive me if I say anything blatantly incorrect, as I haven’t read the entire bible and haven’t been to church in several weeks. What I’m saying is mostly things I’ve been told/thought of at school in a less religious and more analytic context.

As humans, there is an inherent disconnect between us and God. Heaven and earth are two distinct spheres, with a sort of gap between them. God can cross this gap, obviously, but we cannot. Not on our own. This is where Jesus comes in. Rather than belonging to either Heaven or earth, he belongs to both simultaneously - he is fully human and fully divine at the same time. He can cross that gap, the only human who can, and going with him is the only way we can reach Heaven. This is why everyone was in hell before Jesus came. None of us, even the most righteous, could cross the gap on their own.

Humans are social animals. We connect with each other, and we need that. We assign human traits and emotions to animals and objects, otherwise we find it difficult to, well, connect. God is very much unlike us, and very much incomprehensible. I do believe it’s impossible, as we are now on earth, to truly connect with GOD. What we can and do do, however, is connect with Jesus. His humanity belongs on earth with us, we see it, we understand it, and we follow it. From there, through him, we can reach Heaven, and eternal connection with God.

The human side of Jesus, the part that belongs on earth, is what we see and connect with. He, fully human, takes our hands. He, fully God, leads us to salvation.

[unhingedangstaddict]

The bucktommy mpreg brainrot is so real wtf. I never thought in a million years I'd write an mpreg fic and well,,,

Here's my latest wip

Tommy was sitting on the bathroom floor next to the toliet again, crying for no reason again. He was so sick of the spontaneous crying and worse he didn’t even know why he was crying. Tommy had cried after the break-up, but he’d mostly stopped after two-ish weeks. He was sick of feeling the way he’d felt all week- horrifically nauseous and tired no matter how much he slept.

Tommy was so caught up in his wallowing and his crying that he didn’t hear Lucy enter the house, didn’t notice her standing in the doorway to the ensuite. He only noticed her when she set a plastic bag from a drug store down at his feet.

Tommy sniffled and looked up at Lucy. “I’m starting to regret giving you a key.” He wiped the tears off his cheeks.

“Is it really so terrible having someone look out for you?” Lucy crossed her arms.

Tommy was quiet.

“Thought so.” Lucy nodded.

Tommy curiously reached for the bag and looked inside.

“First time ever for me, the women's version of something was cheaper than the mens version. It’s the exact same thing, just different colored packaging.” Lucy said nonchalantly.

Tommy hardly registered what Lucy was saying as he plucked the box out of the bag. A three pack of pregnancy tests. In an instant it felt like his world had been flipped on it’s axis.

There was no way this was actually happening, but if he was- if Lucy was right about this, it would make sense. The headaches, the fatigue, the random crying, the nausea and vomiting- morning sickness. Now that Tommy thought about it, it seemed like his sense of smell had maybe been heightened the last week or so too.

“If I’m way out of line here Tommy, just tell me, it’s fine. I’ll keep ‘em for next time I have a scare.” Lucy offered.

Tommy swallowed thickly. His mind and heart were racing. This couldn’t be happening.

“Tommy?” Lucy prompted.

“I don’t know.” Tommy said quietly. Clearly Lucy had been thinking about this at least since they were on the phone not that long ago. Her suggestion to drink something made even more sense now. Tommy couldn’t believe this was his life.

“What- what do you mean you don’t know?” Lucy asked.

“I never uh, I never got tested to see if I’m a carrier.” Tommy couldn't take his eyes off the box of pregnancy tests.

“You’re joking right?” Lucy sounded shocked or maybe even pissed.

Tommy shook his head.

“How could you be so irresponsible?” Lucy questioned. “You- I can’t believe you never got tested. I can understand not getting tested as a kid with your dad being the way he is but Tommy, you’re- you sleep with men! How could you not get tested?”

Tommy spoke with a monotone voice, head clearly elsewhere. “Parents never bothered. Then I was in denial about being gay and thought I could make myself fall in love with a woman. Then it didn’t matter because I was never serious enough to ditch condoms. Then it didn’t matter when I was serious enough to ditch condoms because I was almost exclusively the top and I was too old. The thought never even crossed my mind in all the time I was with Evan.”

“Oh my god Tommy.” Lucy mumbled.

“I know.” Tommy swallowed thickly. “I guess I have to take one of these now, huh?”

“I’d recommend all three, actually.” Lucy told him. “These things aren’t the most reliable, always a chance of false negatives or positives, so it’s best to take more than one test but if you take two and get two different results then you won’t feel any better or worse than you did before taking them, until you take another. So three at once.”

“Sounds like you know from experience.” Tommy looked up at Lucy.

“I’m a woman who does not exclusively sleep with other women.” Lucy shrugged.

Lucy left the bathroom so Tommy could take the tests, and as soon as he was finished he set them on the counter, opened the door for Lucy, started a timer, and sat back down on the floor again, not confident that he wasn’t going to throw up again at any moment.

Lucy came in and sat next to Tommy on the floor. Just by looking at him she could tell he wasn’t in the mood to talk and for the time being she knew everything she needed to know. Tommy hadn’t even thought about the possibility of this so Lucy was certain that Tommy had no idea what he’d want to do about it- if Tommy was pregnant it was undoubtedly Evan’s, and Tommy was scared and heartbroken right now. Instead of talking Lucy just took his hand and held onto it.

Three minutes felt like an eternity, and if it wasn’t for Lucy holding onto Tommy’s hand, he was sure he would’ve completely lost his grip on reality. He distantly heard the timer on his phone going off, followed by Lucy giving his hand a squeeze. Tommy stopped the timer. He couldn’t look at the tests. He couldn’t move. “Can you look?” He rasped.

“Of course.” Lucy said gently. She stood, not letting go of Tommy’s hand and looked at the tests on the counter. There were two visual tests and one digital test with a weeks along indicator.

The visual tests both showed plus signs, meaning the tests were positive.

The digital test read ‘Pregnant 3+’, meaning three or more weeks along.

“Luce?” Tommy’s grip on her hand tightened.

“Positive.” Lucy told him.

“All of them?” Tommy wondered.

“All three.” Lucy nodded.

Tommy nodded slowly. “Okay.” He whispered as tears stung his eyes and quickly began to fall.

Lucy squeezed Tommy’s hand and returned to her spot on the floor next to him.

Tommy pulled his knees to his chest, rested the arm that wasn’t holding Lucy’s hand on his knees, put his head down, and sobbed for so many reasons it felt like there wasn’t even a reason to be crying at all.

[maple-the-awesome]

He Becomes a Dad! || Part 1/2

PART 2

Pairing: Time, Four, Legend, Hyrule x Reader

Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. I'm a sucker for family tropes and there simply aren't enough out there for the Chain to quench my thirst, so here it is, I'm adding my contribution👍 Btw, there will be only two parts for this prompt since Wind will be excluded for obvious reasons. Baby making isn't a platonic activity🤷‍♀️

Zelda Masterlist 🩵Fandom Masterlist

You only brought the topic of children up to your husband once. It was at some point during the early half of your marriage and after a particularly lengthy day of enduring Malon’s well-meant pestering. Time, beside being caught slightly off guard, delivered a straightforward answer:

“It wouldn’t feel right bringing kids into this world, especially when I would hardly be home to help you rear them.”

Now, you can’t lie and say you weren’t at all disappointed by this answer, although you wouldn’t say you had the rug completely pulled from beneath you. You understood the true implications behind Time’s statement right away. It’s the same reason he took so long to let himself marry you. It’s not you nor a disgust towards children, but rather an unspoken fear of building a life where he’s too happy - one that could be ripped away from him at a moment’s notice as has seemed to be the case for his younger years.

Although his worries are needless, you never pushed against his boundaries because you could at least see the sense in his argument. Sure, the idea of having children did always appeal to you deep down, however between Time’s constant traveling and your hard work helping at Lon Lon Ranch, it would be difficult to squeeze a family into the schedule. There was no sense in forcing him into a commitment he wasn’t ready for nor one you weren’t in a  position to properly foster.

Twelve years of blissful marriage passed before your plans changed. The blame lies with those other heroes, too. One would think traveling alongside a group of unruly young boys would’ve made someone more certain of their decision to never again subject themselves to such a headache, yet it apparently had the opposite effect on your dear husband.

Discovering first hand how much pride he could feel towards a descendant was life-altering, to put it light. Twilight was living proof that somewhere along the line, Time does something right. Whatever kids he might have will grow up to have children of their own and so on…Not to mention Twilight isn’t a terrible outcome by any means. To raise someone with the possibility of them turning out like him and to do so with you of all people? Well, needless to say, it was settled rather quickly after that: Time wanted kids.

Call it baby-fever if you will, but he was suddenly rather eager about the concept he had once avoided like the plague. He brought it up through not-so-subtly hints at first, then when you outright asked him if he was being serious, he went on a slightly nervous spew about your home being too quiet and how he could officially retire from traveling to be home more and it’s really a shame that you have an extra bedroom just sitting around - You just had to kiss him to shut him up which eventually led to…other things. Let’s just say you both got started right away.

It took you twelve years to realize you did indeed want kids yet less than a year to actually be holding them for the first time. It turns out even the universe was impatiently waiting for you both to come to your senses, so once you finally had, it decided to award you with not one, but two beautiful girls whom you affectionately named Saria after Time’s old friend and Mallory, a mix between melody and Malon, their ever-so-excited godmother.  

It’s safe to say that the twins are pretty spoiled. Malon has been over almost everyday, bringing you plenty of baked goods as a bribe to let her spend more time with her favorite goddaughters and you have practically every baby related item that you could need, courtesy of the Queen of Hyrule herself, but of course, it’s their parents who love them the most.

Never in his wildest dreams did Time think it would be possible to feel so at peace with the life he’s built. For so many years, he feared true happiness was impossible - that every turn would result in the same cruel fate he had been subjected to during most of his existence - and yet for the last couple of nights, he’s held it in his arms. He’s watched the moon rise outside his window while playing soft lullabies on his ocarina, you cuddled by his side with your daughters shared between you both. You wear a small smile even in sleep and he swears the girls match it, too; he definitely does himself…This is a priceless treasure he’ll give his life to protect.

Four and you had already been married for a few years by the time you found out you’re pregnant. It’s not to say you were actively planning for it, although you also weren’t actively trying not to either. 

It had been agreed upon early in your relationship that kids would be nice should they come your way, therefore you were both equally excited that your wishes were finally being granted, so much so that the nursery was finished within the first month (courtesy of your handy husband). It’s painted in beautiful pastels that are easy on the eyes and decorated with many toys Four had hand-carved himself; a useful craft he’s now very appreciative towards Sky for teaching him.

Seeing as this was already a somewhat anticipated next step in your lives, Four’s pretty relaxed throughout the process despite its many challenges. For starters, pregnancy itself unfortunately isn't as much of a 'blessing' for you as some have made it sound. You’re rather sick from beginning to end. If it isn't your inability to keep food down (especially in the early stages) or your fluctuating blood pressure, then it’s the aching you constantly feel thanks to both your very heavy bump and extremely active baby who just loves to make sure you never forgot about their existence by kicking you as hard as possible day and night. 

Worry not. Four has made your struggles more bearable by being a darling husband through and through. He’s by your side during each doctor’s visit, does his own personal research on all things baby-related, and helps with every chore he can to give you at least some rest even if just for a quick nap, however most spectacularly, he does all of this without ever being too overbearing. 

Although certainly concerned for your health, Four can recognize your strength any day of the week, especially when you've been rolling with the punches like a warrior queen during such a draining pregnancy. Anxious, sure, but not afraid. Why would he be? He’s confident that you’re both prepared to face anything together! …That is, until you actually went into labor…

Yeah, remember that previously mentioned, relaxed and darling husband? Forget about him. Your water broke and so did Four's calm demeanor, but can he really be blamed? You went into labor early - and not just by a couple of days either. Oh no, we're talking a couple of weeks early. 

Regardless of his newfound fear, Four does his utmost best to still present himself as calm and collected in front of you, not wanting to freak you out any more than you’re already freaking out yourself. He first helped you lay down with plenty of pillows and cushions before running to get help. After that, he doesn’t leave your side, encouraging you throughout the process with a smile on his face, however don’t be fooled: the second you turn your head to the midwife’s voice or close your eyes to scream, your poor husband’s face reflects his inner thoughts as the situation fully begins to sink in. 'Scared shitless' - that's a good word to describe it; eyes wide in terror with a mouth that’s hung agape and slightly twisted in pain as your nails clawed into his hand.

As said, he never leaves your side - not even for a millisecond. You don’t have to worry about him being the type of guy to get grossed out by natural fluids or complain about your expressions of pain; none of that is remotely a concern of his. He’s just grateful to see you okay and even more so to hear his baby crying as they should.

A girl; small like her daddy, but healthy all things considered. Four couldn't wait to hold her, knowing damn well he was going to cry the second her soft skin touched his, but he isn’t ashamed of it in the slightest. Who wouldn’t cry holding something so precious?

Then you scream again. He thinks something must be wrong until the midwife announces that it isn’t over - that there are more squeezed in there waiting.

At the end of the day, you're just relieved to finally breathe easy without going through agonizing pain while Four, on the other hand, is left in shock staring at not one, not two, but three little babies, all healthy girls who wiggle and whimper in their parents' arms, but oh well. The nursery may have to be expanded, although there's plenty of love to go around. At least he can thank Hylia that it wasn’t quads (he's had enough of those).

Legend and you have been in a relationship for several years, although you had mutually agreed earlier on that neither of you were big fans of the whole 'marriage' thing. What difference would a ceremony and piece of paper make, anyway? You already act as any officially married couple would. You live together, go on dates, occasionally argue, and even share a bed which is exactly what resulted in a recent, unplanned detour in your lives: a baby.

When you first told Legend the news, he panicked, asking himself all those stupid questions like ‘what now’ and ‘how could this have happened’ even though he knew damn well how. Then he left. Giving some half-assed excuse about needing fresh air, he turned his back to you despite your pleas and didn’t return for hours. 

Now, rest assured, he did immediately regret having that reaction and apologized for it as soon as he came home. He didn’t mean to scare you with the thought of abandonment, but as he would quietly confess during his apology, the thought of being a parent had just been too overwhelming in the moment. Neither of you had ever talked about having kids, and while he could at least have some peace of mind knowing you’ll obviously be a great mom, he fears that the same won’t be applied to him.

You have always been the light in a dim room, as Legend would put it. You’re fun, sweet, and amazing with kids. Any child of yours, planned or not, will love you with all of their heart exactly as he does. Meanwhile he’s stubborn, cranky, and the last kid to cross his path literally started sobbing. Maybe it had to do with him being covered in monster blood after just having crawled out of a dungeon but he’s pretty sure he traumatized a kid nonetheless…The thought of being just as bad around any kid you share together scares the crap out of him.

Deep, deep down, Legend’s actually somewhat excited to be a father. Although he’s too stubborn to admit it to anyone other than you, he’ll sometimes daydream about how nice it would be to tell a little replica of you both about all his adventures or to teach them how to use some of the items he’s collected over the years like his trusty boomerang. Seeing the excitement in their eyes would definitely be worth listening to you scold him afterwards. If that’s all there was to being a father, Legend wouldn’t have a single concern, yet it’s his insecurities that always have a habit of souring things. Would his kid actually find his stories cool or would they just be tempted to throw the boomerang right at his head?

You’ve done your best to reassure him, often falling back on the argument that the baby will be a part of him. Like father, like son, right? Legend was almost ready to believe you, too, especially upon laying eyes on his child for the first time. As you passed the tiny bundle over to him, he thought that maybe being a dad wasn’t going to be that scary after all, and it might not be so bad to even have more someday either…However, his worries were quick to return when the baby started screaming two seconds after being set into his arms…

Baby screams if he holds him. Baby whimpers if he looks at him for too long. Sometimes, Legend swears the thing starts crying simply by hearing his voice in another room. It doesn’t happen with anyone else, though. The baby just adores you as predicted, but what Legend can’t stand is the fact that the baby seems to like Ravio, of all annoyances, over his own dad.

He’s forced to watch as the little brat happily lets Ravio cradle him, the sight filling him with bitter jealousy and sorrow. You’re convinced that he’s just overthinking everything - that he should give himself time to adjust to his new position as a father instead of holding himself to unrealistic standards, but how long is he exactly supposed to wait until it clicks? It’s been a whole month already and he still feels as confused as day one! Will he ever get the hang of this whole dad-thing or is he a lost cause…?

If there’s any comfort Legend can have, it’s that even Ravio doesn’t know what to do with the baby once he starts crying, so at least he’s not alone in that aspect. The only problem is you’re busy making lunch and stubbornly refuse to pause your efforts. Instead, you shove a bottle over to Legend, insisting that he be the one to feed his son since it should be a ‘good bonding exercise’ for them. You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer and judging on your glare when he tries to protest, you probably wouldn’t be happy if he tries passing the task onto Ravio either.

Thus, Legend is left to awkwardly sit down and take the baby into his arms. He already knows it’s obvious he has no idea what he’s doing, Ravio doesn’t have to point it out, but luckily after some swift around, he manages to hold his son more securely against his chest before shoving the bottle in his face. The baby continues to fuss while turning his head away from the bottle, and Legend’s almost tempted to call for you in defeat until at last, the room falls silent.

Looking down, he watches in quiet awe as his son accepts his meal eagerly. His little hands quickly rise up, gripping onto Legend’s which holds the bottle in place. They’re so tiny; barely able to wrap around a single finger - Oh, and his eyes as well! They’re wide as he stares up at his dad with unbroken eye contact. It’s like a wordless conversation - one more valuable than any he’s heard before.

You return, offering to take your son now that your work is done, but Legend is quick to shake his head. Why don’t you take a well-deserved break while he handles this little troublemaker? It would be a shame to bother him when he looks so comfortable in daddy’s arms.

You've been dating Hyrule for longer than either of you can really remember, however you aren’t in any big rush to get married, figuring that it would make no real difference in your commitment to each other. You love Hyrule and he loves you. What more is there to say? For a while there, you were both perfectly satisfied with simply taking things slow and letting fate decide your course, although more recently you’ve had to switch up that method to something more stable for the baby. Yes, a baby.

You wouldn’t necessarily call it a surprise, but you also can’t truthfully say it was planned either. You had agreed that kids might be nice if the goddesses ever blessed you with any in the future, however you weren’t exactly trying for them…You just weren’t being very careful…

Hyrule must admit he was rather nervous at the start. The only prior experience he really had around kids was with Wind, but there’s a pretty big difference between a young teen and newborn. Pair that with his not so ‘kid-friendly’ world and there’s plenty to worry over. Anything could happen, but Hyrule’s determined to be the best dad and partner he can.

First thing was first, of course: you needed a place to stay. Traveling is fun and you both enjoy being on the move, but that’s no life for a baby. Hyrule and you had actually already considered the idea of settling down someplace before, so you didn’t think of it as a massive loss to take off your adventure boots for a while. If anything, it was a welcomed change once you remembered how lovely it is to be able to kick your feet up for a rest or be surrounded by warmth during a terrible rainstorm.

Again, Hyrule takes his job as your partner very seriously which wasn’t ever a surprise to you. He found a small house for you both to rent in one of the safer villages around; a perfect place for raising a child. While he might not have a talent for decorating or making a place feel ‘homey’, he does thrive when it comes to making sure you’re comfortable, his spare rupees definitely going to fluffy wool blankets and a rickety rocking chair that he saw at a market.

Early on in the pregnancy, you noticed that your boyfriend also began showing a new found determination for cooking which did scare you a bit at first - Okay, so maybe a lot. Hyrule began taking cooking lessons from some kind elderly ladies in town who must have an endless pool of patience because while you can’t say every dish is a masterpiece (or even editable for that matter), you are happy to say Hyrule can now make things like toast and tomato soup successfully. It’s progress.

There aren’t a ton of doctors in your time and none in your village, so you have to take a lot of notes from local women regarding the process. Hearing all their stories and the possible ‘what if’s for what could go wrong made you anxious, especially once you finally go into labor, but it doesn’t faze Hyrule - not on the outside, anyway. He does an excellent job of swallowing his own fears for your peace of mind, talking you through each painful contraction and doing his best to distract you from it all until it comes time to start pushing.

Some people may get squeamish at the thought of childbirth, however Hyrule isn’t one of them. He’s fought through some terrifying dungeons and has bore witness to more than a few gory injuries over the years, so bodily fluids don’t bother him one bit. He’s kneeled down right in front of you without a second’s hesitation, multitasking between mentally reviewing what he’s been told to do and reassuring you even though he’s sure you don’t hear a word of it over your own screams.

One minute Hyrule’s encouraging you to keep pushing, the next he’s holding a small, crying baby in his arms. His movements after that feel almost automatic as he carefully cleans her off and just admires the fact that this baby - this tiny, precious gift of life is his. She’s yours and his and she’s beautiful despite having come into existence within such a broken world filled with more hardships than he could count…

Your tired voice brings him back to reality - asking if the baby you hear crying is okay. You clearly feel the same thing Hyrule does upon seeing your daughter for the first time, the two of you sitting side-by-side as you soak in this wonderful emotion. Hope...That’s what she represents. Hope for a brighter future...

[eldritch-spouse]

Kalymir and tactition reader? Sort of a brains and brawn situation?

[I enjoy this. "Big dumb villain and their smart assistant that's not paid enough"-core.]

He starts pacing around the table, always does, when something you say isn't to his liking.

" DON'T FUCK ME! "

Fortunately, you were hired to be the brains to his muscle, not to glaze his metaphorical balls.

" M'lord I'm fairly certain I couldn't even if I tired. " You eye him up and down, silently asking if he's done with his bitchfit. " Nonetheless, I believe this is no time to be aggressive. You'd do well to send scouts- "

" SCOUTS?! " He snarls at the top of his rather annoyingly large lungs. Some kind of battle axe flies over your head, decapitating baby hairs. You barely blink as it embeds itself into the wall behind you. " THIS IS BARELY A PROPER SETTLEMENT! I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO EVEN THINK ABOUT THIS PIECE OF SHIT RESISTANCE POCKET- "

The King stomps forward on mighty talons, nearly swiping your pondering orb away as he gestures toward it with a fury of such might that it makes the muscles in his arms swell.

" LOOK AT THESE INSECTS! "

" Precisely. "

The demonlord looks as if his honest desire is to cut your back open and slurp the spinal cord out. Yet, in the midst of the anger constantly frying his nerve endings, is a tungsten carbide core of minimal intelligence that reminds him eviscerating you is a most terrible idea.

" EXPLAIN THEN, YOU MOUTHY CUNT. "

" I've been trying to do so this entire time. "

" THE FUCKING NERVE Y- "

" This resistance pocket- " You start, snapping your fingers repeatedly as if trying to garner a large dog's attention. " Is mixed and dangerous, m'lord. "

Although Kalymir is visibly fuming, he does listen.

You scroll through the field of view offered by the hidden summoned aid currently hiding in tall trees. It provides a top-down map feed of the location Kalymir's latest headache has been operating from. Currently, at least. People buzz from one side to another, not many in numbers but extremely well-organized and efficient, almost as if controlled by something.

" Notice there are more than just wrathful demons in the midst, this group employs humans and monsters, especially the less social of the bunch. The kind of monster you'd find hiding in darkened places, isolated but by no means uneducated. To gain the alliance of these monsters, one would need a surprising sense of- "

" I'M FUCKING SNOOZING HERE... "

Sometimes, you're the one that wants to maul him.

There's a tired sigh.

" Harmonious diversity equals no-no. "

Pause.

" I'M NOT A BABY, YOU SURFACE WHORE. "

" Putting that aside, I'm sure you've noticed by now, that they brandish weapons of ancient times. The very things that allowed the initial group to leave the Rings unscathed despite being hunted, not just in Wrath but in the territory of all the Lords you've made agreements with. "

" CELESTIAL WEAPONRY. " The warlord sneers, thoughtful.

" Yes. "

Kalymir shakes his head.

" YOU CAN'T TELL ME THEY'RE ALLIED TO ANGELS! MOST ARE DEMONS, YOU CAN'T BRIBE ANGELS INTO HANDING THEIR TOOLS OVER- " He slams both fists onto the worn and dented table, making your chair jump. " THEY'RE HARDLY EVEN SEEN. AND LIKE FUCKING HELL THESE PARASITES CAN KILL ONE! "

A smug smile tugs your lips. " But, my King, they don't need to be allied to angels to have those. "

Kalymir makes a rare effort to calm down, sharpened claws tapping at the same table. You can hear a heavy-tipped tail swing, the woosh mildly distracting.

" SPEAK! "

" The archives. "

You can hear the gears melting in his cranium.

" THE ARCHIVES... " He stands, mighty body straight as he beings putting two and two together. " THE ARCHIVES! "

You nod, arms crossing.

Not just any archives, the Royal Archives of Wrath, containing a litany of detailed instructions in old Infernal about how to dispatch different types of celestials. The same archives that guarded weapons of Eden stolen from perished angels, weapons that destroyed the limbs of the brave demons who managed to retrieve them, whose core names and sigils have been carved into the cases holding these artifacts. Those are the only celestial weapons left behind, as far as anyone knows. The type of material prize a lord of Wrath would die protecting.

" NO! " He barks once he realizes the first possibility that statement implies.

" Yes, my King. "

" NO ONE COULD HAVE BROKEN IN, YOU SNOT-BRAINED ANKLE BITER! "

Hm, that one's new.

He's right, no one could have broken in, he knows you know this, and the fact that you always seem one little step ahead of him is both infuriating to the King but also exciting.

" Correct. "

" THEN- "

" Who has access to the Royal Archives of Wrath? "

" I DO! I'M THE KING- "

" And who had access? "

As soon as you ask that, he falls eerily silent, pacing again, this time to the opposite display of weapons, subconsciously studying them as he thinks.

" IMPOSSIBLE. "

You recline on the chair, eyes closing. " Is it? "

" I BUTCHERED HIM! I HUMILIATED HIM. HIS VERY SKULL SITS ABOVE MY THRONE OF VICTORIES! "

" His offspring, my King. His descendants. " As far as you know, they were only juveniles when Kalymir murdered their father.

" ONE DIED IN THE CRUCIBLE... "

" The other...? "

Kalymir doesn't answer, he doesn't know. And neither did you, not until very recently.

You don't need to spell the implications out this time, he gets there on his own two synapses.

" YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS. " The demonlord bristles, not because he finds the suggestion ridiculous, but likely because it's going to make things a lot more interesting.

" But I am. He can't show his face, it'd be too risky, but some dissenting demons still recognize and have followed him to the surface. He then seeks the help of monsters living in the margins of societies or straight up outside of them, safer options to utilize holy weapons. And not just that, these monsters muddle our understanding of the resistance's origins and goals, adding humans to the mix just makes it all more confusing. Many of the non-demonic members are likely under contractual obligation to do this too, I'd reckon. "

The King is silent.

" Think about it. You lost track of them a long time ago. This prince-to-be witnessed the death of his father, his brother, his mother has likely died of old age. He has nothing. Nothing but a sweltering desire to dethrone you. This is his doing. "

A cruel glint settles in your eyes, belying that there is room for your frigid coldness in the boiling Ring.

" Unfortunately, he must have been too young to properly absorb his father's teachings, because this is amateurish at best. A little bit of care and thought is all you need to nip his budding plans, m'lord. "

The King smiles, drags a hand down his face, chest heaving faster as a very thunderous bark of raucous laughter shakes the entire fortress. The clapping of meaty red hands accentuates how wolfishly delighted he is.

" YOU GLORIOUS, ROTTEN WENCH! HOW COULD I NOT HAVE SEEN THIS?! "

Yes, really, how did he not see this a mile away? He should have figured it out before you, you actually had to do research concerning the past ruler of Wrath.

Kalymir damn near sprints towards you, reaching over the table to grab you up by the collar of your outfit.

" LEAD ME TO HIM, STRATEGIST. TELL ME HOW TO GET MY HANDS ON THE WORTHLES TWERP. I WILL WEAR HIS BROTHER'S SKIN. "

" Of course, my King. I will lead you to victory as always. "

" GOOD. GOOD LITTLE HUMAN. "

You're dropped back down unceremoniously, feeling a creak in your hip but remaining composed. Kalymir is clearly getting overly excited over the whole deal, you can tell he'll be obsessing over it from now on.

" WE WILL MAKE A NEW CHANDELIER OF HIS BONES. "

Satisfied, there's a pep to the demonlord's step as he makes to leave, opening the great doors to his hall.

" AND ONCE THIS IS OVER, YOU- "

" YOU WILL SIT BESIDE ME AS QUEEN. "

[tater-tots-thoughts]

Summary: You and Tom made a bet over who would be the first to break and touch or kiss the other, but when you have a panic attack mid-day, Tom is more than willing to be a loser just to help you.

Warnings: Panic attacks, swearing

Stupid idea, you think bitterly as you take your aggression out on your keyboard, typing a furious response to your coworker as a pounding headache behind your eyes nearly brings you to tears from staring at the screen for too long. Today you and Tom had the terrible idea of seeing who could last longer without touching the other, and quite honestly, you were prepared to deal with Tom’s gloating and smirk just about now. You wished for nothing more than his comfort as you struggled with your uncooperative superiors and boss. Today, there had been a huge website crash, and you were struggling to help get it up and running again before you lost major sales and shipments. You sighed as you sent your last email, confirming that you’d spoken to a big client and cleared up the issue, assuring them everything would be up and running shortly.

Sighing again, you stood up to stretch. This was the most stressed you’d felt in weeks, and Tom could sense it too. Sitting back down, you refocused and worked for several more hours before you heard Tom knock on your door.

“Come in,” you called hoarsely.

He walked in with a steaming cup of tea in hand and a small smile. He set it next to your computer.

“Milk and honey, just how you like it.”

You smiled at him, appreciating his small thoughtful gesture, though just looking at him made you feel like your emotions were about to boil over any second.

“Ready to give in yet, love?” he teased, smiling at you. He had no idea of your situation at work since you barely had time to even use the bathroom. He’d assumed locking yourself in your study would be a more effective way of refraining from him. Though now he could sense your mood—obviously stressed and exhausted. His smile faltered.

“Everything okay?” he asked slowly, concern in his eyes, hands clasped before him.

You shook your head, feeling the awful sting and knot in your throat as tears began to brim in your eyes.

“Whoa, whoa,” he said, hurrying over to your side, the bet now long forgotten as he fell to his knees by your chair and wrapped his arms around you.

You could barely breathe, let alone explain everything that had happened. All the anxiety, dread, and anger seemed to be controlling your body as it constricted your lungs. The world spun around you, but not in the slight swaying way it does when you’re a little dizzy—it was in a way that made you feel sick if you opened your eyes. You had no idea how long you sat there. The only thing you were trying to feel and focus on was Tom’s voice and his hands cradling your back and head as he rocked you gently.

When you opened your eyes again, the world wasn’t spinning. You were on the floor now, awkwardly but not uncomfortably cradled into Tom’s chest. He was still talking, coaxing and calming you from your attack, his hand stroking your hair comfortingly. After five or so minutes, you could feel your breath falling back to normal, though Tom held you as tightly as ever. You pulled away to wipe tears from under your eyes.

“Sorry,” you choked out.

“Hey, what did I say about that?” Tom said firmly. “Don’t apologize for things that make you upset. I mean, what even happened? Was it me? If it was me, I didn’t mean it, I swear. I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, no, not you. Definitely not you. Just… work. The website crashed, and everything kind of went to hell.”

“Oh, hon,” he sympathized, pulling you close to place a kiss on your head.

You were now lying in bed. With the help of your team, the website was back up and running. All that needed to happen now was shipping to get the information, but that wasn’t your department, and so none of your concern.

“You lose, by the way,” you said, smiling teasingly.

“Mm?”

“You touched me first.”

“Oh, yeah, that,” Tom said nonchalantly. “I won’t hold you to the fifty bucks, though, ‘cause I guess you did kind of need my help.”

He chuckled along with you and poked you in the side. You giggled and pushed his hand away.

“I’d lose for you any day.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re so corny.”

[heich0e]

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

Fushiguro Megumi is responsible.

He always has been, from a younger age than he ought to have needed to be. It's engrained in him now, as much a part of him as his own flesh and bone—if something falls within his scope of responsibility, he's always diligent about seeing it through.

Here's the thing about Megumi, though, the thing he doesn't even really know about himself: he's a perfectionist. Because of this, he doesn't like to be responsible for things—at least not things that he can't guarantee will be a success. Things that he knows he can execute perfectly.

But the road to hell is always paved with good intentions. Convictions, no matter how strongly-held, can accidentally falter.

Megumi has never wanted to be a father.

And maybe this all ties back to his unconscious need to do things perfectly. The pathological insistence he feels to do things all by himself, and do them right. He relies on his experience to achieve these things, and looking back on what little experience he has with fathers, he knows it's not enough—not sufficient—to properly prepare him for a similar undertaking.

And he's fine with that.

He's got enough on his hands anyway, first as a student putting himself through veterinary school, and then with the clinic he works at. The elderly vet he studied under, and who owned the clinic, retired just before Megumi turned 30, and having worked together for almost a decade—first as a part timer, then a tech, then an assistant, and finally a partner—the old man gave Megumi the option of buying the business and taking it on.

Always thought of ya like a son, the old man had said to him one evening after closing, having dragged Megumi to the izakaya down the road to get a drink. Megumi doesn't even really like drinking very much, especially when he was due back at the clinic at dawn, but he indulged the old man who ended up ruddy cheeked and tipsy about as quickly as Megumi expected, given past experience. The conversation had taken him by surprise when his mentor had announced his retirement. 'S only right I pass it on to you, if ya want it.

The offer made something uncomfortable squirm in Megumi's gut. His fear of change rearing its ugly head. His doubt that he was ready to take on such a huge responsibility. The uncomfortably foreignness of being called someone's son.

Just think about it, the old man slurred, immediately picking up on Megumi's hesitation. Yer still a young fella, Megumi, but ya won't be ferever. Gotta start thinkin' about yer future 'ventually. Settlin' down, findin' yourself a pretty girl, babies.

Ah, the future. Yet another thing Megumi hates, in all its unknowable infamy.

Megumi eventually helped the elderly vet into a taxi to get home, and then went back inside the izakaya to drown his sorrows—early shift be damned. His head was a mess, full of a terrible spiral of thoughts about his future that now looked so uncertain, and while the beer he was drinking certainly didn't help him make sense of them, he hoped, however briefly, it might help him to forget.

When Megumi woke the next morning to the alarm blaring from his cellphone, he had a splitting headache thanks to the beer and he was sleeping in the narrow entryway to his apartment with all his clothes (and his shoes) still on. But even in spite of all of that, and the smell of soap clinging to him that he didn't recognize, he felt lighter, somehow—surer about things.

The old man signed the business over to him a month later.

It's been four years since then, and while it hasn't been easy, Megumi's been taking responsibility just like he always has. He does what needs to be done to keep the lights on. He treats his staff well. He takes care of any animals that come through the clinic's door—no matter how dire, no matter how far gone, no matter how they get there.

Yuuji in particular takes advantage of this good nature—showing up frequently, sometimes even after all the other staff has gone home, with some woeful little creature he'd encountered. Sometimes it's a stray cat he'd been called at the fire station to help out of a tree, sometimes it's a dog that he'd found in the road on his drive home from work, or a little bird on the sidewalk. And he gives Megumi the same desperate look every time, the same beseeching eyes, and Megumi curses the fact that the two of them are the same when it comes to this particular responsibility—before letting him inside to examine the new patient.

It's pouring down rain one night, and Megumi has just sent everyone home for the day with a word of thanks for their hard work, when he thinks this very situation is about to repeat itself when he hears a frantic thump! thump! thump! against the glass of the clinic door. Megumi, in his office, pinches the bridge of his nose. He'd even turned the lights out in the lobby so that he could pretend he wasn't there. He knew Yuuji was on his way home from work based on the animated sticker he'd just sent him via text, before offering to pick up some beer and come over, but he hadn't replied—and certainly hadn't expected him to make it to the clinic so quickly.

Megumi sighs, pushing himself up from his desk and padding out in his slippers to the front of the clinic. It's dark out, and hard to see with no lights on in the lobby, but there's a little figure standing outside the rain-covered glass of the door. They appear to be trembling. Megumi pauses, confused, before fiddling with the lock and reaching over to flip on the light beside the door.

What he sees when the door slides open makes him freeze.

Before him is a little boy, no more than four or five, soaked through with rain and shivering in the cold. He has teary green eyes, black hair that's weighed down by the rain, and round, rosy cheeks. Megumi feels sick when he looks at him.

A mirror image of himself.

The man is so frightened that he doesn't even say anything, just stares in horror at the little boy trembling outside the door. Megumi's never heard of a ghost story like this, those were always Yuuji's thing, but that must be what this is. Some kind of spectral being who's shown up to—

A little hand reaches out and tugs on his pant leg.

"Please help me," the little boy says, his voice weak and thick with tears. "Mr. Vet, I need your help."

Megumi watches with wide eyes as the little boy opens his raincoat, revealing a small mass of fur tucked against his chest. A rabbit, Megumi surmises quickly, once he sees the ear; a bunny in fact, when taking into consideration its size. Megumi can't even tell if it's alive because the animal is so terribly still where it's cradled to the boys heart.

He feels another insistent tug at his pant leg, the boy's hand still firmly clutching it. He looks at the child, who seems more determined now, his tears still present but his gaze a little more resolute.

"So, can you help me?"

[pomefioredove]

um um. the nbc boys with a reader thats smart and learns easily but has trouble keeping up with the school system(? for lack of better words). they get distracted and bored easily, forget about homework, doodle on their papers and stare out the window, etc. they get great test scores and do exceptionally well when they are interested in what they’re learning, but otherwise get burned out really quick. i don’t know much about your nbc but it seems like the system is pretty fast paced and doesn’t really leave room for mistakes! 🫶🫶 i love your designs for nbc so far. can already tell the readers gonna have a blast (and a migraine)

my first ever noble bell oc request... rubs my hands together evilly

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ no room for mistakes (noble bell college)

inspired by my AU

type of post: headcanons characters: rollo, original characters; pierrot, bou, phoenix, clodio additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

Rollo Flamme will arrange a precise time to study with you every day, whether you ask him or not. it's within his best interest that you succeed at Noble Bell (heavens forbid you're shipped off to a lesser, simpler arcane academy like that terrible Night Raven College), and so there will be no room for mistakes. this isn't something you should take for granted, either; Rollo is a very busy man, and to have an hour of his time for him to tutor you is a privilege. at least, that's what everyone else will tell you

to Rollo, this is nothing. he would make his whole weekend for you, if you asked. perhaps his whole life

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pierrot Gregoire is probably the last person you should be going to for help. yes, he's exceptionally intelligent in the ways of history and literature, and yes, he could lecture you for hours longer than your actual professor does, but I doubt you would actually get anything but a headache out of it. he's a poet, not a tutor, and he has a tendency to talk himself in circles, go on tangents, anecdote about his personal life... yeah. it would take a special sort of mind to keep up with him, otherwise, you're probably better off trying to make sense of his unorganized class notes... which are just as full of doodles and daydreams as yours

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Bou de Neige is known for making harsh judgments about his peers... which are often accurate. and so he can tell, by the way you talk and articulate and express, that you're not a blithering idiot. you only lack the discipline that the typical Noble Bell College student has. and if it weren't for Rollo's faith in you, and his own damned pity, Bou would have been happy to let you fail...

...but he doesn't. he sits next to you in classes and pinches your arm when you're dozing off, or not paying attention to something important. he leers over you and corrects the mistakes on your homework before you turn it in. he begins carrying clean paper for you to doodle on, and insists it's nothing (it's so over for him)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Phoenix Bussiere is not what I would call a trustworthy tutor. he's not even a trustworthy student. oh, but don't think he wouldn't love to waste a few hours every week "helping you study" while he vandalizes 500 year old wood desks and falls asleep in the library. he's way too eager to volunteer. and how can you say no? his attention is highly valuable; the jealous glares of other students make that obvious. and perhaps you wouldn't have minded working alone, without anyone breathing down your neck... except he doesn't let you. he couldn't care less about the homework, but he'll ask you a thousand questions about yourself

...you can never quite tell if he actually cares, or if he's just passing the time

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if you think Clodio LeFou would be the worst of the group, you'd be very wrong. is it chaotic? yes. but he'll teach you Latin while hanging upside down (and he's really quite good at it). he's managed to get by at Noble Bell without raising any eyebrows, after all, and his grades certainly reflect that. he'll act out your history lessons and critique your writing assignments like a professional. he'll make a puppet just to teach you math. it's unconventional, especially for Noble Bell, but it's much better than the dry lectures from your professors. you'll take what you can get

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman - Part 9

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words : 4k

TW : Drugs , Vomit

Masterlist

——————————————————————

Sunday, October 25; 1:30 PM - Miller House.

I get slapped on the cheeks several times. I groan as I emerge from my heavy sleep. I start to hear voices gradually. I squint as the pain in my head intensifies. I blink to adjust to the daylight in the room.

“Damn it, Ona! What did you do?”

I'm completely lost. I can hardly make out what's happening around me. Finally, I find Mapi's eyes, looking deeply worried. Her voice betrays her concern. What could I have done to make her so panicked? I glance down at my arm, where she’s undoing a tightly wound elastic band. Realization hits me when I see the marks on my skin. I can’t show any emotion at the moment.

“She’s coming around!”

I manage to make out Miller's face. My vision is very blurry. I’m utterly confused, but I recognize his voice.

“Damn it, why did you do that?”

Mapi's eyes are filled with tears. I feel terrible seeing her like this. I try to sit up but can’t. I’m in pain all over, which is a very bad sign. I don’t remember anything. I don’t even know how I ended up here. And my headache is only getting worse. Mapi sighs as she helps me swallow some water and a pill. I’m really in trouble.

“What am I supposed to do now, huh? We need to tell your mother, damn it…”

“No!” I finally manage to speak. “N-not my mom… P-please.”

“What do you want me to do, Ona? You injected yourself, damn it,” she snaps.

“Not my mom,” I insist in a small voice. “She’ll send me to rehab. Not my mom,” I repeat. “I’d rather face Bronze.”

“Bronze?” Miller repeats. “Who’s that?”

“Her supervisor,” Mapi sighs, running her hand over her face. “Her mother sent her to a private school in Manchester.”

“Oh crap... I didn’t know. So what do we do now?”

“She didn’t want it to get out for the school’s sake, so keep it to yourself. As for what to do, I have no idea.”

“What time is it?” I manage to ask.

“It’s past 12:30.”

“My flight is at three…”

“Don’t you get that you can’t go?” Mapi snaps. “Your withdrawal symptoms will start, damn it!”

“I have to… I can’t go home. If my mom finds me like this…”

“You’ll end up in rehab, I get it,” she grumbles.

She sighs heavily. I try to think about how I ended up here, but I can’t remember. I panic. Looking around, I finally realize we’re in the bathroom. I must have really overdone it with the alcohol. I feel a deep sense of guilt and start to worry. I’m a mess. I promised Bronze I wouldn’t mess up, and now I’ve done the worst thing possible. I don’t know what’s worse, her or rehab, but I’d rather take my chances with her. I don’t want to set foot in a rehab center again. I really hope they don’t take me home. Mapi seems to be thinking, glancing at Miller.

“OK. What do you suggest, Batlle?”

Ouch, if she’s calling me by my last name, she’s really mad at me…

“My bags are already packed… We just need to get them and you drop me at the airport. I can manage for now. If the withdrawal starts, I’ll deal with it.”

“You have a two-hour flight, damn it! You’ll never make it unscathed!”

“I know my body... I’ll probably just get a fever at first, it should be manageable… Then I’ll text Alexia to have someone pick me up at the airport… I have no other choice,” I sigh.

I see the worry in her eyes. I close mine to keep thinking about my plan. It’s risky, but I can’t let her see my worry, or she’ll never let me do it.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know what’s worse, rehab or Bronze… But I think I’d rather face Bronze… She’s going to kill me, damn it.”

“Does she know about your drug problem?”

“Yeah,” I mumble. “She won’t leave me like this, but at least I’m sure she won’t send me to rehab… I hope.”

“Fine. Can you stand?”

I nod. I’m starting to regain some strength, so it should be fine. She gets up first and helps me. It’s hard, but I manage thanks to Mapi and the bathtub I was leaning against. My headache spikes as I stand, but I manage it by closing my eyes. My body feels numb. I silently hope it’s just from my position and not from the heroin.

“I’ll get your bags. Miller, get the car ready. You’re driving. And you,” she points at me. “You’re taking a good shower and changing into the clothes we prepared.”

No one dares to contradict Mapi’s organization. Everyone leaves the bathroom, giving me the space I need. I’m glad they removed all traces of drugs from the room. They must have gotten rid of it before I woke up. I shower as quickly as possible. I dress in my clothes and pack my dress and heels in the bag I brought. I don’t even bother with makeup and leave the bathroom. I go downstairs to find Miller and Bryan in the hall. They smile at me timidly.

“Are you going to be okay, Ona?” Bryan asks.

“No choice… I just have a headache for now.”

“Mapi’s waiting for us. We’d better go.”

We nod and head out to Miller’s car. We stop at my place to pick up Mapi. She says she informed Hector and Joan. My stomach knots at the thought. I’m the worst big brother ever. I didn’t even spend much time with him. I feel terrible because I promised him that if I came back, it would be for him. I can’t even say goodbye to him myself. He deserves so much better. I’m just a selfish idiot. I look out the window to hide my feelings from the others. The drive to the airport is silent. They help me check in my bags and stay with me until the end. I use the waiting time before boarding to text Alexia. I thank Miller for charging my phone a bit while I got ready. Luckily, Ale gets home earlier than me on weekends, or my whole plan would be ruined. I just write that I’d prefer someone from camp to pick me up without giving details. I really hope it’s not Bronze, even though it’s likely. I put my phone away when the intercom announces my flight. Everyone looks at me with worry, especially Mapi. I smile softly to reassure them.

“Good luck for the next few days,” she murmurs.

“It’ll be fine…”

I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more with that phrase. Probably myself. I have no idea what awaits me once I land on the other side of the country, and it scares me.

“Thanks for everything…”

I hug them one by one. I shorten the goodbyes to stop their worried looks. I join the line to board my plane. I find my seat as indicated on my ticket, and ten minutes later, the plane takes off. I’m already feeling cold, and I know it’s not the altitude causing it. Now that I’m alone, I start to worry. This flight will be the longest I’ve ever had. All I can do is pray that I sleep during these six hours.

Sunday, October 25; 6:00 PM - Manchester Airport.

Finally, I get off this endless flight. I only managed to sleep for half of the journey. I exit the plane with the other passengers, my headache worsening. Fortunately, there was a super nice flight attendant. She took care of me when I woke up and even gave me a sedative, even though she wasn’t supposed to. She must have felt sorry for me. It only worked for a short time, so I’m glad to be on solid ground now. When I reach the terminal, I look for someone familiar. Alexia replied that she passed on the message and expects an explanation. My vision blurs slightly due to the intense light, but I manage to find the person in question. I lower my head and walk timidly towards her. She doesn’t seem very happy to be here. I think I’d really have preferred to see someone else too.

“I hope you have a good excuse for cutting my weekend short, Ona.”

I don’t even dare look Bronze in the eye. Of course, they sent my supervisor. What was I thinking, hoping for someone else? I don’t hear her anymore, and strangely, she doesn’t force me to answer.

“Are you okay?” she finally asks with concern.

“I’m sorry, Bronze,” I say in a trembling voice. “I-I really messed up this time…”

I lift my head to see her frowning eyebrows. She places the back of her hand against my forehead. Her hand is cold, sending a thousand shivers through me on top of my trembling. I’ve felt frozen since leaving Barcelona. The flight attendant gave me a blanket, but it was useless. I’m really starting to feel bad.

“What did you do to end up in such a state?”

My voice is stuck because of a lump in my throat. No words come out. She sighs when I close my eyes after a dull sound. I let my emotions answer for me with an uncontrollable sob. My vision gets even blurrier as tears fill my eyes. I hate feeling so weak, I hate crying in front of someone. Especially my supervisor. I am really ashamed of my behavior and my state. I am simply ashamed of myself.

"I-I don't know how I ended up like this...," I respond in a broken voice. "I don't remember anything, I promise. Believe me, please…"

I avert my eyes. There is no chance she will believe me... I wrap my arms around myself to try to warm up. She sighs again. She must have figured out what is going on. It's not hard to understand, after all.

"At least you don't deny your addiction, that's something. Give me your bag. »

"I can carry it. »

"I'm holding back here, Ona," she warns me with a hard look. "You're not in a position to negotiate anything, so give it to me."

I am unable to argue with her, so I hand her my Eastpak bag without protest. She puts it on her back, then she surprises me by putting her hand on my back.

"Let's go. Let's not waste time before your condition worsens."

If she is angry, she hides it very well. We go to retrieve my suitcase before heading to the camp. This is the second time I find myself in her car. I had to ask her to turn off the music because of my headache. The fever keeps increasing as I feel colder and colder. My head is just resting against the seat. I tried the window, but it was moving too much for me to leave it open. I must have fallen asleep because we arrived very quickly. I slowly open my eyes, then close them immediately, groaning in displeasure when she slams the car door. My head is going to explode. She comes to open my door shortly after.

"Wake up, Ona."

"Hmm..."

"Do you need help?"

I recognize Engen's voice. I gradually wake up. When I open my eyes, I see Bronze's hair. She is unbuckling my seatbelt before standing up straight. I have aches all over my body, and I don't think it's just my position.

"Help me lift her."

"It's okay, I can do it," I say.

I try to get out of the car, but it's a complete failure. Bronze sighs and helps me with visible annoyance this time. My shaky legs don't allow me to stand on my own. I have to lean on her while finally spotting Engen in front of us. She looks visibly confused.

"What happened to her?"

"She used drugs during her stay at home."

"So what? She's young, it happens."

"It shouldn't when you're coming out of rehab," Bronze growls, holding me up as best as she can.

"Oh..."

"So, are you helping me or not?"

Bronze finally expresses her anger. I was starting to worry that she wouldn't. I prefer her to show it; at least I know what to expect. I feel my free arm being lifted and put around Engen's shoulders. My supervisor locks her car, and we head away from the camp. I don't recognize the path they are taking, but eventually, we arrive in my room. I hear Alexia's voice, but I haven't been listening for a long time. I feel myself being laid down on my bed. Bronze removes my jacket and shoes before covering me with the blanket.

"I’m cold," I muttered.

"You only have yourself to blame," Bronze scolded me. "Can you watch her while we talk to Wiegman?" she asked Alexia.

"You’re going to talk to Wiegman about this?!" Engen asked.

"What else do you suggest? We can't hide her for a week!"

"You're right," she sighed.

"Putellas, can you do it or not?"

"Yes, yes, of course! But what’s wrong with her?"

"We’ll discuss it later. Meet me in Wiegman’s office if there’s an issue, okay?"

"No problem..."

"Bronze..."

I grabbed her sleeve as best as I could, looking panicked. She turned back to me, her features tense. She was clearly holding back from yelling at me.

"I’m sorry... I- I... I didn’t..."

"It’s okay, Ona. Calm down."

She surprised me by sitting on the edge of my bed. She brushed the hair out of my eyes. Strangely, this calmed me down immediately.

"D- don’t... leave me... p- please."

"That was never my intention."

"I... Not... ag-"

"Don’t worry," she cut me off, understanding where I was going with this. "I’m going to take care of you personally to make sure you don’t do this again. Now stay calm until I get back, okay?"

She’s funny. I’m completely out of it anyway. I nodded to show I understood. She smiled before removing her hand from my cheek and standing up.

"Call someone so you’re not alone. Leah, for example," she said to Alexia. "I won’t be long."

I didn't perceive anything anymore. I couldn't keep my heavy eyes open and let myself drift off to sleep. I don’t know how long I stayed like that, but when I opened my eyes, I saw Alexia on her bed and Leah on my desk chair beside me.

"Well, it’s about time you came back to us, princess."

I smiled softly and tried to prop myself up against the wall behind me. I pulled the blanket up to my neck to cocoon myself. I sought warmth wherever I could, even though all I felt was cold. I started trembling again like at the airport.

"Are you going to tell us what’s going on?" Alexia asked.

"It’s complicated," I said, lowering my head.

"Bronze seems to know what’s going on with you," she snapped.

"Don’t listen to her. You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to."

"I’m in withdrawal," I whispered.

"What? What did she say?" Alexia asked Leah.

"I knew you were a junkie!"

"How could you know that?" I growled.

"I grew up in bad neighborhoods," he admitted. "I guessed it after spending time with you."

"What? You do drugs?" Alexia finally understood.

"It’s more complicated than that," I said, playing with the blanket in my hands.

"You can talk to us, you know... We won’t tell anyone if you don’t want it to get out," Alexia reassured me.

"I was forced to go to rehab before coming here," I explained. "I was clean... But I don’t know what happened this weekend. I spent the evening at an old high school friend’s place... I drank, and I don’t remember anything. I would never have risked using drugs knowing I was coming back here... I- I have no desire to go through withdrawal again..."

I started having acid reflux and migraines. My head was spinning. It was getting worse. I felt like I was going to experience my worst episodes.

"Wow... And Bronze knows all about this?"

"That I’ve used before? Yes. I almost went to meet a dealer when she took me shopping. She stopped me and scolded me... I realized afterward that it was a stupid idea... I would never have used here."

I lay back down in my bed. My head was spinning uncontrollably, and it was a horrible feeling. My friends must have noticed because they kept asking how I was and if they could do anything. I managed to sit up just in time to vomit on the other side of the bed. I already heard Alexia’s remarks, but I didn’t have time to react before vomiting again.

"Damn, what do we do now?" I heard her say.

"Go get Bronze," Leah commanded. "She told you to get her if there was a problem, didn’t she? I think this qualifies."

I couldn’t stop. The door to the room closed, and I felt Leah grab my hair as the acid reflux continued. The door reopened a few moments later behind me.

"It’s okay, I’ll take over," I heard Bronze say. "Go get a wet washcloth. Preferably cold."

Leah, who had been behind me, stood up to make way for Bronze. She efficiently cleared my hair from my face and ran her fingers through it. She gathered it into a messy bun with a hair tie. She thanked Leah a second later and then placed something on my neck without warning. I gasped at the cold against my skin. I coughed to avoid choking on my own saliva mixed with the remnants of vomit. I spit it out onto the floor with Bronze’s help patting my back, then closed my eyes, appreciating the cold presence that felt surprisingly good.

"Sorry. It’s just a wet washcloth. The cold will help, you’re burning up," she said, pressing it lightly against my skin. "Feeling any better?"

She leaned forward to see me. I pushed her away to lean over the empty space, feeling another wave of nausea. I didn’t want to risk vomiting on her too. It didn’t take long before I vomited again. My stomach was already empty, so it hurt even more with the acid reflux. This was just the beginning, and I was already exhausted. I collapsed against Bronze’s shoulder. Realizing this, I tried to pull away, but she held me close. I abandoned any attempt to get out of her grasp. She flipped the washcloth to find its cool side against my burning skin. I heard noises but didn’t dare move because I was so comfortable. It was short-lived as I had to lean over again to avoid vomiting on Bronze.

"Are you sure you want to take care of her?" Engen grimaced, appearing in front of me. "She’s having quite a fit! Here, vomit into this. I’m not cleaning your mess a thousand times."

Bronze took the basin from Engen and placed it on my lap. I watched her clean my mess off the floor with a mop. I wondered how I managed to vomit so much. The last thing I had in my stomach was the alcohol from the evening.

"I really love Ona a lot," Alexia began. "I understand she needs time to... recover from... this. But I’m not sure I can handle her vomiting every day."

"Don’t worry, she won’t stay here," Bronze replied. "I need your discretion about this. Rumors must not spread."

"What do you mean, she won’t stay here?" my roommate asked.

"We’re moving her to another room to avoid suspicion."

"We need to monitor her and take turns during her withdrawal," Bronze explained. "As I said, this must not get out. Is that clear?"

"Yes, of course. When are you moving her?"

"Now. Most people are in the dining hall, and you should be too."

I was glad not to see Bronze. Her sharp voice gave no option but to listen. I was the one who broke the silence by vomiting again, thankfully into the basin. I think Engen would have killed me if I had missed.

"I think that’s a very good idea. You coming, Leah?"

"Yeah. Will we be able to see her this week?"

"I don’t think so," Bronze replied.

"Okay... Will we get updates at least?"

"I’ll try, we’ll see."

"Well then... Good luck, Ona."

I would have liked to respond, but my nausea wouldn’t stop. The door closed behind my friends. The silence was immediately broken by a sigh from Bronze.

"You’ve really put me through the wringer," she complained. "You need to get up. Can you manage?"

"Hmm..." I moaned in response.

"I think we haven’t seen the worst of it yet tonight..." Engen commented.

Engen finished cleaning before we moved. I don’t know how long it took to reach my new room, but it felt like a long time. We stopped countless times so I could vomit into the basin. I was in a daze but recognized Bronze’s room when we arrived. A single bed had been added, and hers had been pushed to the back. They placed me on the new bed, and I immediately wrapped myself in the blanket. Engen put the basin on the floor so I just had to lean over to reach it.

"Thanks, you can go now. I’ll take care of her."

"So, we’re taking turns then?" Engen asked.

"Let’s see how she is tonight. If she sleeps, it won’t be necessary. I’ll call you if needed."

"Are you sure?"

I lost track, but the answer must have been positive because I heard a door close. I sank deeper into the pillow. I had never felt so weak in my life. I was trembling like a leaf. The mattress dipped behind me, and a hand came to stroke my hair. She replaced the washcloth, which startled me again.

"Why did you move me here?" I murmured.

"Wiegman wanted to send you to a center," she admitted. "I negotiated by offering to be responsible for you. Having you here makes it easier to move around and avoids attracting curious eyes because of the commotion in your room. Just remember, you owe me one."

"Thank you..."

"Your parents will be notified since I imagine you left home without telling them."

I didn’t respond. She was absolutely right anyway. I wouldn’t have come back to the camp if that had been the case. I expected Bronze to scold me, but nothing came.

"You were lucky to arrive here safely, Ona," she finally said. "Imagine if you had gotten sick before getting here?"

"I took the risk," I murmured. "I had a good hostess."

She sighed and removed her hand from my head. Her weight disappeared from behind me. I didn’t have the strength to turn and see what she was doing.

"I guess you don’t want to take a shower?"

I shook my head slightly to indicate no. I managed to shower this morning before I felt really bad.

"Change clothes either?"

I responded the same way. I should, but I didn’t feel capable of moving at all. Plus, I had no clothes with me. I thought Bronze’s clothes would fit me, but it would be weird to wear her pajamas. I finally saw her crouch in front of me with clothes in hand.

"I’m going to take a shower. Try not to choke during that time."

"Very funny," I muttered.

"I think so too," she smiled. "Let’s be clear, I expect explanations from you about this incident. Oh, and also," she added, standing up. "Don’t expect to receive any substitute medications. I’m in charge of you, and I’ve decided you’ll face your withdrawal head-on."

"Hmm."

"Try to sleep. We’ll talk when you’re feeling better."

Of course, she wasn’t going to give me anything to ease my withdrawal. It’s harder, but I prefer it that way. I don’t want to become addicted to something else instead. She left for the bathroom. I was relieved to feel my eyes getting heavy. That’s all I wanted. I wanted to sleep to escape this hell that would last a while.

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1's beige flags

a/n: i tried to make these as beige as possible … cause sometimes people say “beige flag “ and it’s just a blatant green/red flag LOL hope u enjoy :)

notes: yujin is included this time, but it’s absolutely 100% platonic because i didn’t think this inherently implies romance. so his is PLATONIC!!!!! VERY PLATONIC!!!! also i plagiarized some of these from tiktok, will share links at the end :)

wc | 1.5k

jiwoong’s beige flag is traveling with him. i feel like he travels like a father, so he’s waking you up at 2 in the morning for a flight that isn’t until 7 in the morning. he picks the cheaper parking lot that’s next to the airport and makes you take a shuttle when you could’ve just paid $3 extra to park in the airport parking lot. he goes to starbucks and only gets ice water so you can fill up your emptied bottles. he’s angry the entire time but he still manages to crack a terrible joke to the flight attendant. he panics while you wait for your bags at the baggage claim. he makes you wait in the huge line for the rental car shuttle (where you have to go through three rounds of it leaving and coming back before you can get on) rather than just getting an uber there “because it’s cheaper.” at least you arrive at your destination. godspeed soldier 🫡

zhang hao’s beige flag is that there is always something wrong with him. this man has never been at 100% in his entire life. he always has a headache, or his stomach hurts, or he’s tired, or his arm hurts, or his back hurts…the list goes on. even if you’re carrying extra strength advil, antacid tablets, and one of those little tissue packs, when one issue is resolved, something else begins. the worst part is, when you think everything is fine, you’ll point it out like “oh! you’re not complaining about anything!” and then he’ll give you a look, saying “oh i have a headache right now.” once he felt like he had something in his eye for 3 days straight, but no amount of washing it out or eye drops got rid of the feeling. if he’s not ill or in pain, he’s asleep. you wonder how he got as far as he did when he’s never felt completely okay ever in his life.

hanbin’s beige flag is that he’s entirely unaware when other people are flirting with him. he automatically assumes the best in everyone and he’s got tunnel vision for you, so the idea that anybody is flirting with him is outlandish. you could be standing right next to him, steam coming out of your ears while you force a smile, and he’ll be none the wiser as the person talking to him playfully punches him in the shoulder. on top of that, he’s even more shocked when you point it out to him—he’ll say, “babe, they were just being nice!” and then you have to explain that asking for his number so they can get to know him better is not just being nice. then he gets all offended when you call him dense as if he didn’t entirely miss the heart eyes he was just receiving.

matthew’s beige flag is the fact that he does not question anything. you could tell him that you got a new job and he’d go “oh, cool!” and never ask what exactly it was. your parents once told him that you were a really awful child assuming he’d want to hear more, and he said “makes sense” and never brought it up again. it gets even worse when he tells you things about other people, and when you inquire, he can’t give you any more info. he’ll say “oh, they got cheated on” and you ask who and he has no clue. and it’s not even like he’s uninterested, he just doesn’t think to inquire about anything, even if he’s curious. the idea barely even occurs to him. he didn’t even know where his mom worked when you first started dating, and you asking during your first meeting was the entire reason he found out. you’re considering calling him and telling him that you’re going to prison or something just to see if he even asks why.

taerae’s beige flag is that he cannot explain anything to you without giving you 5 minutes minimum of background information. sometimes it’s over the most mundane stuff too, like him searching for a specific item at the grocery store. he will explain how he had trouble parking before going in, and how he got distracted by the fruit section, and how he had to ask an attendant…all to let you know he didn’t find what he was looking for. once he spent 20 minutes explaining matthew’s life story to tell you a 2-minute long anecdote about how he ran away from a crab at the beach screaming. the worst part is that, whenever you’re on a long drive, he is telling you stories like this the entire time. but he gets mad at matthew every time he mentions the word “story” like YOU ARE A HYPOCRITE KIM TAERAE!!! 🙄

ricky’s beige flag is that he cannot get dressed without your input. you would think this man was a 3-year-old who’d never picked out his own clothes in his life. if you’re not with him, he will facetime you, and if you don’t answer, he will not get dressed until you call him back. this might be endearing except for the fact that, if he doesn’t like your input, he will tell you to pick something else, and ricky can be picky with what he wears. when you ask him why he can’t just pick himself, he says something along the lines of “if you don’t think i look good, then what’s the point.” he has been late to hanging out with you because you didn’t wake up early enough for him to comfortably get ready (with you on the phone). if you spend the night, he will WAKE YOU UP solely so he can get dressed. at least people have said they think he’s started dressing better since you two started dating 😭

gyuvin’s beige flag is the fact that he never hears anything you say. he isn’t ignoring you (although there was a period of time where you thought he was ignoring you), he literally just can’t hear you. one time you were hanging out, you fell in his backyard, and spent so long screaming his name that the neighbor came over and ring the doorbell to ask if you were all right. you have to repeat everything for him. sometimes you have to text him what you’re saying because he cannot decode it. the only time he can hear you without fail is when you’re on the phone. the worst part is that, after a while, he decided he was going to go to the doctor about it and they told him that he literally has trouble hearing the frequency of your voice, so it’s an unfixable issue. you’re stuck like this for the rest of time.

gunwook’s beige flag is that everything you do has to be planned to a T. there is no spontaneity whatsoever when you hang out with gunwook. if you ask to hang out, his first response will be “to do what” and I Don’t Know is NOT an acceptable answer. it can be something as simple as “let’s watch a movie” or something as intricate as “let’s take the train to the beach and go searching for fun shells, and then we can take a scenic bike ride afterward,” there just has to be a plan. when gunwook makes plans for the both of you, he sends you a time-blocked itinerary and he will get a little upset if things go off schedule (but he won’t get angry and ruin things for you). he gets anxious when there’s not a set thing you’re supposed to be doing. at least his plans are always lots of fun!!!

yujin’s beige flag is that he goes days without contacting anyone. he just falls off the face of the earth every 3-4 months for a few days and everyone freaks out in his wake. it starts with gyuvin calling you like “yujin DIED” and then you spend an hour and a half convincing him yujin isn’t dead. then another day without any proof that he’s alive passes and suddenly YOU’RE believing yujin is dead. then you call gunwook, who also hasn’t heard anything, and he calls ricky, who ALSO hasn’t heard anything, and suddenly there’s a groupchat where you’re discussing the likelihood that he’s gone forever. then he posts on instagram and pretends like nothing happened. he doesn’t understand why everyone’s so glad to see/hear from him, either. he even had hao worrying like yujin please don’t do this ever again 🙏

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee @wtfhyuck

tiktok links: zhang hao, matthew, taerae

[the-s1lly-corner]

I just had a very cool idea.

So imagine that Caine makes a specific bad adventure and child! reader has a nightmare about It and they go for the tadc cast for comfort ( this is platonic obviusly)

Thank you!!! :3

TADC cast x kid!reader who's having nightmares! (Platonic)

Originally I was gonna have caine be a part of this but since the child.. would like understand that Caine was the reason the scary stuff happened in the first place considering Caine literally.. announces the IHA.. you know? Woukdnt make too much sense to seek comfort from the source of fear...

Anyways

I want french fries rn but its 11pm rn

Anyways hope you enjoy!! I am so so sleepy!!

Written on mobile, I might stick to it for the foreseeable future... at least until I get a new more comfier chair to put at my computer

POMNI:

Probably the worst for comfort but I dont think shes terrible. So when you turn up at her door late one night she of course let's you in and snatch her bed. Even she can agree that Caines most recent IHA was a little on the intense side. Rubs your back until you fall asleep, and tries to make you feel less scared and alone by letting you know you werent the only one scared

Does it help?

Not sure, I guess it depends on the kid! You're choice!

RAGATHA:

Probably one of the best when it comes to comforting you! Gives you one of her softest blankets (she makes her own blankets!) As well as making sure your stuffed animal is in the bed

Makes it a point to tuck you and your plushie in to "not let the bedbugs bite". Runs her hands through your hair. Very good for any headaches you may have gotten from crying

Tells you nice stories until you fall asleep

JAX:

I think, similar to zooble, once he gets over the fact he was suddenly awoken he would be.... okay at comforting. Hes more eager to get back to sleep so he may be a little pushy in regards to getting you back to sleep. Kind of comes across as him dismissing your fears. Awkward back patting to try to get you to calm down

Hes a cranky one, I think, when it comes to sleep

Not many ideas for jax

KINGER:

I mentioned somewhere, I think in a cuddling hc... somewhere.. that kinger would put himself beteeen you and the door, effectively working as a barrier of sorts to protect you. That still stands here, even in a platinic/familial sense. Gets very into about how hes going to stand guard over you for the night while building a pillow fort around the two of you. Let's you snuggle into his robe (very soft and warm) while telling you stories he came up with... I think he would try to undo any fear you may feel around caine, since I personally think kinger is. Just used to caine. No point in being afraid of someone who could have hurt you at any time but hasnt done so... funny coming from the paranoid man

Ragatha would do the same, with the caine-fear thing

ZOOBLE:

Oddly enough they're pretty solid at comforting you! Once they get past the fact they were awaken in the middle of the night they pull you into bed. I think zooble would have fairy lights in their room, or the LED lights that you string up on your walls. Usually they have them in one color but to make you feel better they have them slowly changing into different colors. Very calming, I think. Quietly mutters that it's okay to be scared sometimes. I dont know I'm just soft for gentle older sibling zooble... offers to stay awake to keep watch over you

GANGLE:

Let's you fiddle with her ribbon, maybe

Like you know how sometimes people let another person fiddle with their hands and fingers? I think that's what it would be like for gangle

Plus ribbon has a nice texture, I think

Turns on the lights (dimly) if you're nervous about sleeping in the dark

Stays awake until you fall asleep. I think she would read a book to you. The only one who actually reads from a book. Acts out some of the scenes. Nothing too special, just some simple flair with her hands and stuff you know?

[silurisanguine]

O.C. Character deep delve - Zofie Orel.

Questions originally by this user (though the post seems to have vanished now). I felt like answering them all to help get more of a feel for my O.C. Zofie Orel and this will become part of a master post for this OC.and I'll make other posts for my other OCs as these questions really help develop them and have their own master posts too. Not tagging this post as already done so, so this is for anyone with OCs they want to really flesh out more. I've put them behind a cut because there are 50 questions and answers! So click read more if you fancy knowing more about her family life, her childhood and just generally more about them.

1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have? Zofie loves her father Alexandr dearly. She has always loved his tenacity and strength to protect others. He was firm with her but never over controlling, believing she should choose her own path even if it meant having nothing to do with either his or his wife's path. She doesn't hate anything about her father, though his very dry sense of humour could sometimes leave her second guessing whether he actually was joking or not. Even though her father left active service in the Coterie of Assassins (formerly) Brotherhood, he kept their family safe. He taught her all about the Assassin order and their enemy the Templars and how both have adapted to current times. When she decided to join the Assassins he rejoined the order so he could be her mentor and teach her.

2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have? Zofie has always been very close to her mother. She encouraged her hobbies and passions. Only thing Zofie didn't like was when her mother would get so focused on a project she wouldn't sleep and then develop terrible headaches that would last for days. She still knows she has this habit. Her mother gave her, her stubborn streak though she failed miserably in trying to teach her the finer points of hacking.

3. Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings? No she is an only child. Her parents knew it was a risk to have one child with their work they did.

4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient? Her parents were firm with her, for her own safety whilst she was young but allowed her the freedom to develop as she wanted as she grew, knowing she had a good understanding of the world. They held nothing back in answering any questions she ever had.

5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered? Because of their lives, they did protect Zofie as a young child, always watching out for danger. Once she became a teen and knew about her parents hidden lives and the dangers because of it, understanding and supporting it, she wasn't as watched over.

6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child? Lots of affection, though not always physically or verbally displayed. She just always knew.

7. What was the economic status of their family? Well off thanks to their 'official jobs' but also thanks to her mother's talent for redirecting Templar and their supporter's funds. Outwardly they do not display their wealth, living in modest homes, but Zofie and anyone she wants to help, need for nothing.

8. How does your character feel about religion? Atheist. She has seen how organised religion has controlled the masses ever since the ISU decided they were gods. She has no issue with anyone believing anything, so long as they don't push it at her.

9. What about political beliefs? She's seen too often how power corrupts. She believes that no one should go hungry, be unable to be well or live without shelter. So you could consider her a socialist.

10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted? She is well read having spent much of her childhood in the Coterie libraries studying history and anything factual. She's quite artistic minded but not the best at the more mathematical side of things. Thanks to her training as an Assassin she can mix among the high born or street gangs just as easily.

11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated? She isn't afraid to share what she knows and considers herself intelligent, but she tries not to be cocky about it. Though her stubborn nature sometimes gets misinterpreted as that.

12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations? She usually speaks with what some would say is a 'cultured' soft British accent, Not 'posh', but she can flip her dialect if needed depending on who she is talking to. Her vocab range is vast but she dials it back depending on who she is talking to. In private she is more relaxed and swears... a lot.

13. Did they like school? Teachers? Schoolmates? Whilst she was still in Cardiff, she was mostly home schooled to protect her, though thanks to her parents, she was well educated, more so than normal children. When the family moved to London she was schooled in the Coterie. She got on with some of her teachers, especially her History, Geography, Science and Art teachers, as she often chatted with them about what ever subject matter they were teaching. Her schoolmates were fellow children of Assassins. Like any child she was friends with some and not with others. Thankfully bullying was not accepted by the school and any hint of it was dealt with fast so she never suffered from that.

14. Were they involved at school? Sports? Clubs? Debate? Were they unconnected? As she was trained in the Coterie, After school clubs consisted of physical training, self defence and combat skills.

15. Did they graduate? High-School? College? Do they have a PHD? A GED? She finished high school with top marks - 3 A levels in Art, History and Science. She took an Open University degree and got her BA Hons in Egyptology whilst training as an Assassin as she couldn't exactly leave to study.

16. What does your character do for a living? How do they see their profession? What do they like about it? Dislike? In the public eye she helps her mother's property developer company as designer and developer, but anyone looking deeper would find a false cover as an MI5 Secret service agent ( this cover works well with the police in Prague who know from experience not to mess with secret service of any country. Her parents helped create that identity thanks to friends in high places in England). Her real role is an Assassin. 17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When? She has travelled on mission before, going to Paris, Detroit, USA and now living in Prague, Czech Republic. All for missions, whether short term or long term as part of the Coterie. Paris was during her a mission where she shadowed another Assassin. The USA was with her mother when they visited David Sarif a year after she was augmented. Prague is her current mission.

18. What did they find abroad, and what did they remember? Paris was where she really understood how the Templars as the order once knew them had been superseded by the Illuminati and the former were now very much the financial backbone of the latter. Detroit, she thanked Sarif for saving her life and will be shocked to remember that she actually met Adam Jensen before he got augmented as she as introduced to him during a meeting with David.

19. What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now? That there are truly evil people in the world. Not just out for themselves, but self centered enough to think they know best for the rest of the world. That they think they have the right to control everyone else. That has never changed.

20. What were the most deeply impressive political or social, national or international, events that they experienced? Well she survived the Incident. Thankfully the Coterie had become unsure at the synchronised signals augmented people were getting and the correlation with TYM's sudden manufacture of new chips that many chapters of the Coterie refused the upgraded chip until they could learn more. The London chapter was one of them. She's witnessed the segregation of augmented people following that event and the creation of ghetto like cities across the world where many augmented are put.

21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate? Depending on situation, her manners can be impeccable. But in private she is much more relaxed and relaxed about things. Her heroes are her parents, her grand master Katherine Frye and the assassin Amunet. She despises currently Lucius Debeers, Elizabeth Duclare and Madame Photographie.

22. Who are their friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or 'ideal’ partner? She has a couple of friends in the Coterie. Sanchia Evans aka Curly- The Aug doctor/mechanic. Good friends with Zofie and knows her way around Sarif Augs. Zofie trusts her with her life. Dean Foster - The assassin she paired with when sent to Paris to help Katherine Frye on a mission. She adores Dean and his partner Nick. Lovers - There was Sarah, a fellow Assassin who she had a relationship with. Sarah died saving Zofie's life. Her ideal partner is someone she doesn't have to hide who she is with, who accepts her completely. Who has a similar sense of humour to her and is as passionate about the same things as she is.

23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex? Acceptance, loyalty and love. Someone who is her equal in both physicality and mind. They very much enjoy sex, but also enjoy just being close to those they care deeply for.

24. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually? She doesn't really belong to any social groups. She likes to keep to herself or with those she fully trusts in her own time, which is short thanks to what she does. She plays what ever role her mission requires -Sometimes high society socialite daughter of the owner of property company, sometimes well bred secret service agent, sometimes specialist for hire.

25. What are their hobbies and interests? She took up silversmithing and jewellery making as a hobby to help her relearn fine dexterity in her hands. She enjoys decorating and interior design often enjoying that part of her cover job. She has a great interest in ancient history, particularly Egyptian but also Celtic. Loves to read factual books, listen to music and sometimes cook.

26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance? Zofie has a home in Prague. No86 Libuse apartments. Mostly dark red or grey painted walls with dark wood floor and furniture and white ceilings, with a large contemporary chandelier as focus in the living area. Soft furnishings are in shades of black and gold, including a plush sofa, and bed coverings. There is a white pologon eagle sculpture on one wall, and her secret room has her collection of antique weapons on display. Her tastes could be considered leaning towards gothic, but with a modern minimalist taste. She loves to combine very modern with antique and has a thing for Art Deco furniture. Her appearance is high end. Sticks to black, red and white clothing, something she developed through the Coterie, as those are the traditional colours of the old Brotherhood. She likes that nod to the past. Plus she loves the colour red. Her bob length hair is crimson red. She favours smokey eye makeup and either bare lips or stained for longevity. Some of her makeup is semi permanent to save her time and effort.

27. How do they relate to their appearance? How do they wear their clothing? Style? Quality? She enjoys some fashion but follows her own style. She prefers small independent designers. She enjoys high quality clothing when she isnt in her custom armour (which she helped design). In her downtime she wears relaxed clothing, soft stretch jeans with slouchy relaxed tops and bralettes. When out incognito, she wears a white coat that allows her assassin hood that's attached to her tactical vest to sit on top.

28. Who is your character’s mate? How do they relate to him or her? How did they make their choice? Mate as in partner? Currently no one but that will change. See 23 above for why she would go for him.

29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling? Stubbornness and pride.

30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive? She can never forgive the Templars for their ideology and will fight them. Her special anger is towards Madam Photographie, or Vivienne, Rebecca, de Crussel, the one who orchestrated the attack that forced her to become augmented, killing her hawk and lover in the attack.

31. Does your character have children? How do they feel about their parental role? About the children? How do the children relate? No, no children and she can't have any as her womb was damaged in the attack and removed.

32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively? Mostly calmly. She is highly trained to keep her head in stressful situations. She will be aggressive only to survive a situation. That changes if fire is involved. She has repressed her PTSD from the attack, but large amounts of fire bring it back, then she can panic.

33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health? Yes to drink. No need for recreational drugs, no interest. She has a Sentinel system so their health is top notch.

34. Does your character feel self-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous? She has a sense of self righteousness yes, considering what she knows. She fully believes in the cause of the Coterie.

35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?

She is pretty accepting of errors as she knows things don't always go by the book. But she hates failure as she sees it as a personal failing not being able to adapt to a situation. If the failure isn't her fault, she can lash out.

36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering? She'd say no, but deep down she knows she wouldn't lift a finger if Vivienne was in harms way, taking pleasure in watching that woman suffer for what she did.

37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories? She doesn't need to imagine things, the Animus can often let her relive aspects of the past. But that just adds to her sense of wonder for the people of the past's lives. Her imagination goes into her creative outlets - jewellery making and interior design.

38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic? She is trained to deal with changing situations. Able to adapt to new locations with ease. She is always suspicious though, until she knows she can trust a situation or person. But she meets any new challenge with enthusiasm.

39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid? Incompetence mostly. She has little time for it, especially when those in power have it.

40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one? Sarcastic and very British.

41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony? She knows her strengths and some of her weaknesses, though she ignores her PTSD, which can bite her sometimes. She knows she is in a unique position and how her very nature is an irony - She kills to protect life.

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain? She wants the Illuminati/Templars to be destroyed, though deep down she knows those in power will always try to control the masses. She is willing to die for the cause though.

43. Does your character have any secrets? If so, are they holding them back? She has many secrets, only sharing some with those she trusts.

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them? See 42.

45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic? She is mostly pragmatic when it comes to her mission, though she isn't without compassion and will do what ever she can to prevent innocents getting harmed as is one of the main tenets of the Creed.

46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body? She is 5'7" athletic even before augmentation due to vigorous training. She always carries herself well in public, though wont flaunt her augments. She was accepting of her augments as had agreed to them prior to her Injuries, though it had taken her a year to get used to them. She admires the work that's gone into them, finding them works of art. She also likes she grew 2 inches through them!

47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Does they want to be visible or invisible? She is willing to protect all innocents, though sometimes she wonders why when they are idiotic. She often appears visible, but when she is seen she is in fact hiding behind a persona. her real self is often hidden away.

48. How are your character’s gestures? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish? She is controlled in most ways. Elegant and fluid. When in a relaxed state she can sometimes become more energetic, but it is a rare occurrence.

49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent? Her natural accent is soft English with a hint of Welsh, but she can change her accent as needed, being more cultured under the Sofia persona. It's quite melodic, not too high. (see Emily Blunt's voice for reference.)

50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating? As if she knows something you don't. It is often either a mona lisa type smile, or 'resting bitch face', though the latter is often due to her actual syncing with her drone Zrak and seeing through it's eyes.

[folyoszel]

My Live Blog of The Apothecary Diaries Light Novels Volume 1 Chapter 3: Jinshi

I'm procrastinating packing for my trip that happens in 6ish hours, so I might as well read another chapter of The Apothecary Diaries!

No points for guessing the central character of this chapter. Lol

I do like that the LN has chapters from different perspectives. I love having Maomao as a guide, don't get me wrong, I just also like seeing different perspectives and thought processes.

How many times a day does this poor man have to break up cat fights? If the ladies-in-waiting at Lady Lihua's palace are any indication, it's probably a lot.

On another note, something I haven't really thought of much is that the way that Jinshi and Maomao refer to the consorts as "flowers" or "blossoms" is kind of dehumanizing. I don't think either of them are trying to be rude or anything, I just think they're trying to distance themselves emotionally from the consorts so they can think more rationally about each situation.

I just went ahead and used different colors to differentiate my points rather than trying to take multiple screenshots of one specific paragraph.

Yellow: I know this isn't at all what it meant, but I have a weird imagination, so I pictured Jinshi trying to walk through a pile of lovestruck women while looking absolutely disturbed. I kind of wish that was fanart that existed.

Green: So it really was that Maomao didn't swoon at the sight of him and not her comment about writing. Poor dude really is flabbergasted by her immunity to him.

Red: But it isn't the end. Instead, you will become absolutely smitten with that girl and trip over yourself, trying to get her attention.

I don't know, I think Lady Gyokuyou is probably fine considering how much the Emperor favors her. One woman's sick leave probably didn't hurt her financially and would only up her kind reputation.

I don't blame either one. It's all on the makeup people for not mentioning the fact that it's poison and the people who were managing the harem while Luomen was there for not keeping his warnings about the stuff.

Lead poisoning is awful. Among a bunch of other terrible things, it can cause headaches and general irritability. That as well as the paranoia that comes from being a consort with the eldest/only son, having your child dying in front of you, and having maids who don't believe it's poison until sense is literally slapped into one of them, you can really see how she made that mistake, and it makes the loss of her son all the more tragic.

I really like Lady Lihua because she has all the set up of a general mean girl who will be an opponent for the rest of the series, but turns out to be a genuinely wonderful person who was just in a terrible situation. (Spoilers) I'm really glad she ends up able to have another son later in the series. (Spoilers end)

I appreciate that not only that Maomao tried to make her handwriting look bad to throw people off, but also that Jinshi can apparently tell that she purposefully wrote poorly and that she's a girl. I do kind of understand the gender thing since I've noticed different tendencies between the handwriting of different genders, but I'm going to really question his ability to tell whether the writer is purposefully writing badly or just has bad handwriting. Especially since it earlier said the message was written using grass stains. I can't imagine that being easy.

Great memory for something innocuous that happened almost a month ago. I guess her not stopping to admire his hotness really stuck with him. I mean, Jinshi's had to come across someone so lost in their thoughts that they walked by without noticing him, right? I mean, I sometimes walk around with zero awareness of what's around me. I also appreciate his immediate glee at his lead and the random insult to the people watching the fight between Lady Gyokuyou and Lady Lihua. I kind of love the random, offhand insults that Maomao and Jinshi have in their thoughts.

Does he just have an encyclopedia of different cloths he's felt? And if he so distinctly remembers her and what she said, wouldn't he remember her outfit? Unless the maids that have different jobs have outfits that look similar but don't use the same material. Does any of this actually matter? No, but my brain got stuck on it, and you chose to read it.

I love that Jinshi hasn't spoken a word to Maomao, but he's already delighted by her and the mystery that she's accidentally given him. He's also 100% using Lady Gyokuyou's gratitude as an excuse to satiate his curiosity and boredom with work.

I'm so glad I managed to fit all the quotes I wanted to share in one post, I would've been annoyed if I had to make another post for just one or two quotes. Anyways, thank you for reading once again, and I hope to see you when I cover the next chapter, "The Nymph's Smile."

[im-no-jedi]

TBB headcanons: Physical and Mental Traits

I was originally gonna break these posts up by character, but it’s more fun just categorizing everything (plus I get to make more posts this way hehe)

anyway! here are some traits I believe each of the boys have:

Hunter

Oldest of the og four (CT 9901) 

All of his senses are heightened, which makes him more sensitive to things (smells, sounds, touch, etc) but he’s REALLY good at hiding it

Occasionally experiences sensory overload, but has several techniques to keep himself calm (stimming with his knife, meditation, isolation, listening to music, conversing with one of his bros or Omega) 

Is autistic, but is good at masking it most of the time 

Very, very rarely experiences panic attacks from overstimulation (happened mostly as a child, has only happened once during the war) 

Has a high level of tolerance for pain, despite his heightened senses (mostly is just good at hiding it though)

Has a scar over his left eyebrow that he got due to accidentally cutting himself with a knife when he was younger (he has perfectionist issues because of this); has other various scars all over his body (main ones being on his left pectoral from getting shot by Cad Bane, and slight burn marks on the palm of his right hand from the Zygerrian whip)

Fairly introverted; he likes his solitude but gets lonely at times and can NOT be away from the squad for too long or he’ll go crazy

Tech

Second oldest of the og four (CT 9902) 

Retains information the first time it’s told/explained to him (the recording thing is literally just a hobby, he doesn’t need it LOL)

Obsessively researches things in his free time 

Basically blind without his goggles; he’s semi colorblind, which is why the lens are tinted

Is very autistic 

Stims with his tools 

Has an average level of tolerance for pain, doesn’t like to make a big deal out of it and straight up ignores it most of the time (“I pretend I do not see it”)

Has a few scars on his hands from tinkering, but are mostly healed (lotion works wonders my dudes)

Completely introverted, please leave him alone thanks

Wrecker

Second youngest of the og four (CT 9903) 

Is constantly hungry because of his size and high metabolism 

Gets muscle aches if he goes too long without being active 

Has ADHD and autism 

Stims via working out or playing with Lula (or any of Omega’s other toys when she’s not playing with them)

Has a low level of tolerance for pain, but tries to act otherwise (and does a terrible job at it LOL)

Got his face scar on their first mission ever, doesn’t regret it and thinks it makes him look cooler 

Has various scars all over his body, as well as stretch marks from growing so big so quickly

Very extroverted, gets lonely easily

Crosshair

Youngest of the og four (CT 9904) 

Gets frequent headaches because of his superior vision (which is why getting the Order 66 headaches didn’t seem out of the ordinary to him) 

Gets sore limbs sometimes, especially his legs, from how long they are 

Is autistic 

Stims by chewing on his toothpicks 

Has an average level of tolerance for pain but is really good at hiding it

Has a few minor scars on his body but mostly stretch marks from growing so tall so quickly

Very introverted, but gets lonely at times (and will NEVER admit it)

Echo

Oldest of the entire group overall

Suffers from “ghost limbs” with his scomp arm and legs sometimes 

Will get eye twitches sometimes from his brain “short-circuiting” 

Makes jokes about his disabilities to cope (“you wouldn’t hurt a disabled man, would you?”) 

Has PTSD, mostly from what happened after the Citadel explosion 

Distracts himself from the Horrors™ by running ship diagnostics and rereading manuals (which he already liked doing, of course)

Has an average level of tolerance for pain and likes to hide it behind his jokes (“tis but a flesh wound!”)

Has some scars all over his body from the Citadel explosion and his implants

Big extrovert, HATES being alone, please don’t leave him alone OMG

[sketch-guardian]

Hii! Can I request the RAD classmates with an MC who looks and acts like Azrael from the Obey-Me-Angel-Bros blog by simply-yulia

I’m the biggest fan of that blog and the artist so the crossover would make me so happy 🙏🙏

If you’re not comfortable with the request then I understand!

So, I had never heard of that blog, now I feel stupid for not having known about it before🙈I had to do some research to understand what you meant and in addition to admiring the ideas and drawings of the blog in question, I hope I understood their version of Azrael well enough, since I didn't find much about his character😖I hope it's not too OOC😭

Furthermore, I also hope that the request doesn't make Azrael's creator uncomfortable, since I don't know them, so to be safe, even if I'm not sure if they're still active, I'll tag them ( @obey-me-angel-bros by simply-yulia), to specify this Azrael is their version. Now let's start with the ask:

"RAD CLASSMATES WITH A MC THAT LOOKS AND ACTS LIKE AZRAEL FROM OBEY-ME-ANGEL-BROS BLOG"

DEMYA

To be clear, as long as MC gives Demya her freedom, isn't intimidated by her feral side, and lets her eat to her heart's content, then MC could be the scariest being in all of Devildom and Demya would still cling to them, nuzzling against their arm and tagging them along around for shopping. Demya, not really having an opinion about celestial beings, would find MC's appearance to be quite ethereal, however she would prefer to see MC without bangs if they're comfortable enough, because in Demya's opinion, mates should accept each other and show their true self, both good and bad, for example MC with their several eyes in full view with Demya with blood dripping from her mouth. Demya might initially tease MC in a witty way for their quiet and hardworking nature, it's also likely that every now and then she would try to drag MC into some reckless adventures to make them loosen up, much to their dismay. As for the paintings, Demya would be interested and would even model without any problem for MC, albeit sometimes in dirty poses, just to see their reaction. Demya would also get a lot of fresh red paint just for MC (don't ask where she got it, it's as bad as you think-)

DOMNRA/MOBIM

The angelic appearance might initially destabilize Domnra a little, because it would remind him of his days as a soldier in the celestial army, so it would take some time for him to get used to MC's presence (nothing personal, even with Simeon and Raphael was like that-). Domnra would understand the reason behind MC's act of covering their eyes, since he has a quiff, the only difference is that Domnra does it because he is blind from that covered eye, in fact in a rare joking or sarcastic moment, he would ask MC to lend him a working one. MC's calm nature would be a balm for Domnra's often mad soul, so listening to some music while they draw would be ideal, or even training (the idea of ​​being drawn in that context would embarrass Domnra). Mobim would at first be intimidated by MC's appearance, but sensing their good intentions, the little curse would come out of its shell and sit on their lap or shoulder while they paint, even dozing off sometimes

AZUL

Fortunately (or unfortunately, since it can result in a big headache-) Azul is quite a charismatic conversationalist, so despite MC's awkward attitude, he would do his best to engage them in conversation and get them to talk more freely about their interests, especially because they both have a passion for art. Azul wouldn't show it outwardly, even if his colors would betray his true thoughts, however having an MC that reminds him of his past as an angel would disturb him quite a bit, at least at first, given how badly he had coped with his fall from the Celestial Realm. When Azul was an angel, he didn't have ordinary wings, but rather butterfly wings that he was proud of and that he misses terribly sometimes, so if MC made a portrait of him at that time, it would be one of those few times in which Azul would cry quietly. During some of his mood swings, Azul might let out a few jokes, like comparing himself to a butterfly that fell into the spider's web stretched by MC, as a metaphor for their fall in love (corny, I know-). Azul would also return any paintings by making some himself, with MC represented with their eyes in plain sight, since Azul considers them part of MC, therefore beautiful. MC's gentle presence would help Azul stay calmer and avoid his mood swings

ZURI

Even Zuri, like her other two fallen angel friends, would be a little hesitant to interact with an MC who reminds her of her past as an angel, however she would be much more mature and professional about the situation and would quickly get used to the idea. Zuri would appreciate MC's calm nature and wouldn't be bothered by their awkwardness, since she would be perfectly able to speak on behalf of both of them (basically: they asked for no pickles-). Noting that to hide their different eyes MC seems to be uncomfortable sometimes, as if they would prefer to keep them uncovered, Zuri would propose to build some tailor-made masks to make their life easier and more comfortable in general, she would also recommend being careful not to get dirty with paint during their paintings, even if Zuri would take care of arranging and possibly modifying their clothes in the end

ODON

Odon would be intrigued by this version of MC, especially because they would notice similarities in their hair style, however the reason why MC does it seems to be to not make others uncomfortable or out of shyness, while Odon does it for the mental health of others' sake and to prevent them from dying in a atrocious existential suffering, the only way for Odon to be seen without bangs would be to shapeshift their face into something more bearable. Considering their past, Odon would be surprised that they caught MC's attention, pure as they are, but they wouldn't complain. Odon in demon form has several arms and several eye-like creatures fluttering around them, so some might jokingly compare Odon to a spider. Odon and MC could spend a lot of time in a cozy silence without getting bored, while MC draws and Odon sips a cup of tea reading a book, even out loud, if upon request. Besides, Odon is a bottomless well of knowledge, so if MC ever needs inspiration for new painting ideas, they can ask Odon

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

6) illusion, Kharish

“Are you very sure,” says Drevis, leaning across the circulation desk with his neck craned like he might be able to see the underside of it if he tries hard enough, “it isn’t here?”

Urag clears his throat and pointedly slides a stack of returns into his elbow. “I am aware of every book in the Arcanaeum. Yours is not among them.”

“Where do you last remember having it?” Kharish offers as she leans around him for the books. There’s no soot this time, but there’s an unfortunate spot of dry, cracking leather on the bottom corner of the top cover, suspiciously thumbprint-shaped.

Drevis eyes the row of spines, forlorn. “That’s the trouble, of course. I don’t remember having it.”

“You mean you don’t know where?” She opens the first to note the date of return on its card.

“No,” he says, “I mean I don’t remember having it.” He puts his chin into one spindly hand and ruffles the other through his hair, which he may have been doing all day, from the way it’s standing on end in angular tufts. “The apprentice-level test next Fredas, it’s meant to be on countering simple illusions. I always start with something small, something that you don’t recall if it’s not immediately in your field of vision, yes? I believe I’d already shrouded it, but I must have reapplied it, for—well, I can’t remember now, you see.”

Urag looks at him for a long moment. He takes off his glasses, folding them deliberately, and clears his throat. “Was it one of mine?”

“No, no! It was—it’s the one I always use. I think.”

Kharish sets the newly checked-in book on the shelving cart and opens the next, eyebrows raised. (This one has a note tucked into the front that she guesses from the first line was not intended to have been left as a bookmark. She sets the note under the counter, face-down, for whenever a mortified novice inevitably comes running back in whispery panic.) “Then you know which one it is, at least?”

With a particularly haggard set to his mouth, Drevis says, “I do not.”

She stops, halfway to the third. “…then how—”

Urag, who has not put his glasses back on, says to some distant point on the far wall, “Where did you… ensorcel it.”

“I have reason to trust it was likely in my office rather than the classroom,” he holds up a finger, crooked with thought. “I was working on—” His mouth moves soundlessly for a moment; his eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise. “I was working on something else. What was I working on?” Without waiting for an answer, he bolts for the door.

Baffled, Kharish turns to Urag as he unfolds his glasses. “Are you really aware of every book that passes through here, or was that to make a point?”

He pauses, giving her a sideways look. “I have spent years honing a very particular sense of when books enter and exit my Arcanaeum.”

“Ah,” she says, as the return in her hands suddenly becomes supremely interesting. Mental note, then, to take a surreptitious spring cleaning of her desk, once they’re through here.

---

“—which is of course why I can’t find it,” Drevis is saying excitedly, waving his arm for some reason; he seems to register the confusion on both their faces and lowers his arm to his side, the lower half behind his back. “Oh, you won’t have retained any of that, will you?”

Kharish blinks. She is absolutely certain he wasn’t here a moment ago. “Sorry, Master Neloren, when did—”

“Where are my glasses?” Urag interrupts, standing.

“You took them off again while I was catching you up.” Drevis does an awkward little sidestep around to the edge of the desk to point. “Put them under there, I believe. I should have thought about what having it out while I was explaining would do, I apologize.” He shakes his head. “This is terribly inconvenient.”

Rubbing at her temple against the odd headache forming, Kharish says, “You found your invisible book then?”

“Not invisible,” Drevis corrects, “imperceptible. And no, I’m afraid. But I found what I was working on, and—well, it will take too long to explain a second time, but in short, the deflective field around the book must have gotten tangled with—” He stops himself from pulling whatever it is out from behind his back. “—right, yes; the point is, though, if I can touch it, I should be able to perceive it again and untangle it. I really appreciate your advice here,” he says earnestly. “I’ll let you know if it works.”

“My advice?” She points to herself in surprise. “I didn’t say anything?”

“You did just a moment ago,” he assures; “efficient methods of touch for an object that requires touch as prerequisite for perception is a tricky one, but certainly ‘maximizing my surface area’ is a good idea—”

“Did I say that?” Kharish asks, half an octave higher than normal. And then, more to herself, the headache spiking, “Why did I say that?”

Urag, having found his glasses, puts them back on as his face contorts like he’s pulled a muscle. She starts to say something, worried, but he holds up a hand to her and shakes his head. “Drevis. Is this project safe to have out?”

Hesitating a moment, Drevis taps his chin. “Not quite clear on that point yet, I’m afraid, but if I set it down I’ll lose track of it again.” He twists away to wrap the end of his cloak several times around the arm he’s been keeping behind his back, returning to face them with the appearance of a comically-large mitt on one hand. “There. Ah—just in case, write this down, but if you experience anything unusual in the next few hours, would you let me know?”

The shelving cart is full. The return box is completely empty. Last she remembers they were only a quarter finished. “I think I need to sit down a moment,” she says aloud.

“Probably a good idea,” Drevis agrees, starting to go as Urag leans over to pull the second chair closer for her. “If anyone needs me, I will be in my office, maximizing my surface area!”

She sits. “…I don’t really want to have said that.”

“Well,” Urag says, and she realizes he’s struggling not to laugh, “at least you won’t remember it.”

[utilitycaster]

Someone needs to fight back by drawing Imogen with sharp angle+narrow frame glasses that sit just on the end of her nose so she looks down through them, and they make her seem distant and haughty about everything.

Ok so anon I know this is you joking (and while personally I'm like let's just not do the glasses*, I agree that angular art styles for Imogen are really good and love to see them), but like...frankly, I'm in a hotel for the night for work and have very little going on so I just want to talk about Imogen! I think she has a somewhat elusive personality, especially compared to Laura's past two characters, both of whom were pretty extroverted and I think the fanon is simply so wildly different from reality that despite her central role she at times feels like an unknown quantity.

Imogen is not sweet and retiring. She's not terribly haughty; but she's definitely a little sharp, even from the start. She's frustrated with the administrator at the Starpoint Academy despite asking for what is essentially a significant favor, and doesn't attempt to hide it - and that's in episode 1. The fanon idea of Imogen didn't even get past the half-hour mark of the first episode of the campaign before zoning out, briefly coming to at the word "headache" because the sickfic fodder alarm went off or something, but Imogen is prickly and possessive of a certain ruthlessness from quite early on. Nor is she the innocent - her first thought to cover up the noise in the hotel room is to grab Dorian and unbutton her shirt. The idea of Laudna being the prickly, worldly one and Imogen the sweet ingenue should have been dead before Bertrand.

I think the best way to describe her though is that she is walled off. There's the figurative but extremely real psychic walls, which she's only recently been able to let down, but in general Imogen just doesn't quite mix into groups. There's always a certain amount of distance that she holds. It's an incredible change from Jester, who was famously the one to bridge gaps, or even Vex, whose post-adventuring career is the most openly political of Vox Machina's. I think Orym's leadership pep talk, while a good thought, fails, because Imogen is comfortable playing the leader in a lie, but ultimately she wants to neither lead nor follow.

Anyway, that's the thing about Imogen: I genuinely do not think she consciously believes herself better than other people, certainly not in an "I'm so awesome" manner; but she does hold herself aloof. She has concrete proof of the terrible thoughts that strangers have and I think does not realize the flaws of her own thought patterns as a result. I don't want to say it's a lack of shame or embarrassment but it certainly feels faintly atrophied. It's like the social contract has been just a bit corrupted. I think I described it before as that she sees hypocrisy as "not honestly saying what you're thinking to your allies" rather than being about a discrepancy of word and action. I also wonder if the fact that Imogen spends so much time in people's heads is tied to the fact that it took her until she was 26 and had no other options in order to leave Gelvaan, despite the fact that she wasn't happy there.

I'm really interested to see how it goes because I don't actually see this as a story that can resolve purely because of the power of love and friendship. I suspect Imogen is just starting to realize these things about herself, and I similarly suspect she doesn't really care for them...but I don't think she knows quite how to stop or change nor does she entirely want to.

I think this sense of being caught between so many things - always being the secret third option - is really well demonstrated with her powers. A pretty consistent theme in Critical Role through both Campaign 2 and 3 is regarding the sources of power and their disconnect from any morality - power simply is, the wielder's choices are what matter. Imogen started out wishing to be rid of her abilities, and she's increasingly moving to embrace them, even as she simultaneously has found out that the source of her powers is likely a literal cosmic horror and her mother is much more than a voice in her dreams. It's fascinating to me that the people she tends to be most honest with are the people with the most unknown pasts, and I feel she's moving towards an era of reinventing herself. Which will put that big question of aloofness at the forefront - it is, to be fair, faster to go alone, and easier to reinvent yourself when the people who knew you before aren't around.

Anyway this is a really long way to say "haughty, not really, but she is all angles, in multiple senses of the word."

*tangent here but: I was scrolling the Imogen tag recently and something I noticed that's very telling is that most art of Imogen in glasses (and to be fair a lot of art generally) isn't described, but when it is, the description also almost always leaves out her glasses. Which really puts the kibosh on the idea this was ever about normalizing glasses or uh, any aids for people with visual impairments, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯