#i cannot blame her in the slightest though

[volchitsa-of-winterfell]

"lee stecklein: there's your consistent, steady, reliable defender; she's got a big stick, she knows how to use it well"

[mikkalia]

Febwhump Day 6: Forced to Stay Awake Post Survivor. Merrin POV there's very little "forced to stay awake" but intention is there

master post

The Mantis is quiet. Not like the dead, though she wishes that were so. The dead sing, they scream, they whisper. This is too much like nothing at all.

Merrin leans against the wall, her hand buried in Cal’s hair where he lays next to her, arms wrapped around her leg, face pressed to her thigh as another tremor wracks his body and pulls a whine from his lips. She soothes him the best she can with what she can, carding her fingers through his hair, careful to avoid the head wound. It doesn’t do much. His body is painfully tense, his teeth clenched so hard her own jaw aches in sympathy.

Eventually the worst fades and he lets out a sigh. One eye peeks open, bright with fever and pain as he looks up at her through the dim.

“You don’t have to stay,” he slurs even as his arm tightens around her leg. Merrin shakes her head.

“I do not have to,” she agrees. “I want to.”

Cal closes his eyes again, breaths hitching.

She feels when the next wave of pain comes before she sees it. The way his fingers dig into her trousers, the overlay of bruises from where he’s gripping her too hard. Merrin hasn’t said a word about it. Hasn’t flinched. Hasn’t blamed him in the slightest for the pain. Not when he’s gasping and then choking on it, his feet kicking feebly as pain engulfs him again like clockwork.

Merrin hunches over him, shushing and murmuring words of comfort in tandem. Nothing they’ve done has helped. No drugs, no magick, no Force will take his pain and let him sleep. If he could sleep, this would be easier. Sleep through the worst of it. Sleep through this living nightmare. But the cocktail of drugs in his system keeps him awake and aware, keeps him feeling every single moment of pain.

They had wanted to torture him. Make him pliant to their questions. They received no answers because Cal is strong and stubborn and instead got a pissed off Nightsister and Jedi Master tearing their base apart. Now they can only wait for the drugs to leave his system naturally. Now, they can only watch as he suffers.

When this bout of suffering eases, Cal goes limp. For a moment, there’s hope that he’s finally passed out, but when Merrin tilts his face, she’s met with hooded, red-rimmed eyes that plead for her to make it all stop. His miserable expression brings tears to her own eyes. She would give anything to help him. She traces the contours of his face, thumbing away tears. He closes his eyes with a sigh.

The door whooshes open to let Cere in. She doesn’t bother asking for an update. The Force tells her all she needs to know. Instead, she sits on Cal’s other side, untucks the warmed cool pack from under his shirt and replaces it with a fresh one. Cal murmurs something under his breath too quiet to hear, and he unspools a little more. Cere settles a grounding hand on his arm as the knots retighten and he whines, gripping onto Merrin once more.

“I can stay with him,” Cere says quietly. Merrin shakes her head. She strokes his temple where sweat slides down to mix with tears, brushing it away before it starts pooling. “You need to sleep, Merrin.”

It seems unfair to sleep when Cal cannot. “A little longer,” Merrin murmurs.

Cere doesn’t sigh. She also doesn’t leave.

[lych33dragoncookie]

So, like... Anyone mind telling me when this fanbase gaslit themselves into believing all the psychological manipulation stuff Shadow Milk did in his main 2 Beast Yeast episodes was done purely out of loneliness or longing or whatever? Sure he started getting weird about it near the later half and DEFINITELY strange about it near the end there but...

Come on, don't genuinely try to look me in the eyes and tell me he did any of that because he felt like he had to or because he was lonely. In part, yes; that's why he was so damn happy to see Pure Vanilla start seemingly seeing things his way, and start acting more like Shadow Milk himself, but... that's not it. That's not JUST it. There's more. Of course, there's more. Do you lot not get it by now? He loves... LOVES, suffering. He. Loves. It.

"Oh but he doesn't-" What? Doesn't enjoy this? Doesn't like it? Isn't on board with it? Wrong again.

He loves every little bit of it. He's totally on board, and seems to consider this its own fun little form of art. "Oh but that's not manipulation" yeah, this instance isn't. He's just here to mess a little with Wind Archer. It's here to show just how sadistic he is, and how he draws absolutely no lines in the sand whatsoever so long as it's entertaining. Now, if you want to see him toy with someone else for his own amusement and sheer desire to inflict harm on a psychological and emotional level...

This last instance in particular is really amusing to me. We see him pull this exact little gambit again, on Pure Vanilla Cookie... I suppose he has his own preferred little methods of getting what he wants, hm~? He has quite a good read on them both, too. He knows they're each other's rocks; just as well as they are each other's weakspots. Such is the nature of trust and a tight-knit bond, isn't it? Something he'll gladly take advantage of... And, the best part is, HE LEFT HIS MARK ON HER! Oh, he did...

Though, that's not too hard to do, is it? It's more like... tearing at holes in already-torn fabric. Honestly, I cannot imagine how much restraint it must have taken to pull them away from each other at the spire... though, he probably got a chuckle out of watching them fall right into his little trick; playing at each's sense of doing what must be done no matter what, their little obsession with fate... and, besides, they probably expected to get separated sooner or later, anyways, right? It's just such an obvious, beautifully obvious little bit of bait... and they took it hook line and sinker, just like he wanted them to. There is no way he didn't get at least a little bit of amusement out of that.

Ah, but, we really haven't gotten to the most severe example of what he's really capable of, have we? It's an example people barely ever explore, frankly. And, I can't blame them! The focus is on someone else for just about the entire chapter, and at first glance she can just sort of be disregarded as a bit of a trope ball, but... trust me, she's the biggest example I could possibly provide. Not White Lily, not Pure Vanilla...

Her.

Oh, but she's so happy obeying his every whim! Serving him with her whole life! Doing absolutely everything to earn even the slightest of his affections, no matter what! Yes, exactly, my dear strawman; and that's exactly what's wrong here.

Allow me to let you in on a little secret. Most of the time, people aren't created a certain way. What someone is comes as a result of how they're molded, be it by themselves or their environment. The shape a person takes is not determined by their creation, but rather their experiences thereafter. Now, dear reader, think for a moment;

Could this possibly, possibly be natural? Could this possibly be the result of anything other than hard, cold, deep-rooted conditioning? He threatened to kill her. He. Threatened. To. Kill her. And she didn't flinch. Not for a moment. As a matter of fact, she went right back to adoring him, ceaselessly, without any hesitation in her heart. Eager, as always.

You can't tell me she was made like this. You can't tell me this comes from a sincere place of love, care and affection; a nurturing of any kind. If it were, how could she take a death threat so lightly, act like it never happened, not even act at all scared as a result? No, my dear reader, no... She wasn't made like this. This isn't natural. Why would it be? How could it be? Remember...

The act of Shadow Milk turning to deceit, deciding to make the world his', turn it into his stage; that act was what created Candy Apple Cookie. He was set in his goals, already, by the time she was made. Now, with the previous information about his character given... What do you think happened?

Here you are, having decided you're the one above all. That the world shall be yours, all yours, and only yours. And, now having embraced the power to do exactly that, you've been given something interesting. A blank slate. Someone who didn't have a life before you. Someone who was never given the chance to be their own person. Someone who only knows that they were created as a result of your actions. Someone who, with very little effort, could be whatever you want them to be.

Is it any wonder her obsession runs so deep? Is it any wonder she won't flinch at the threat of him ending her life? Is it any wonder the possibility of any, any kind of attention from him is all that fuels her every action? No. It's all she's ever known. He's all she's ever known. And, chances are, he made sure of that.

It really doesn't feel like his neglect of her is exactly something he doesn't realize he's doing, either. He treats Black Sapphire Cookie so much better, with so much more respect, calls upon him constantly... and yet, little Candy Apple Cookie is left there on the sidelines. Waiting. Hoping that eventually, maybe, someday, her devotion and efforts will be rewarded. And, I ask you, dear reader; why would she do this, if she didn't know what she was looking for? What she wanted?

Do you not see the picture forming, here? He knows what he's doing. He was given a blank slate, someone he could mold however he wanted. He had to make her like this. The praise he gives to Black Sapphire Cookie; who's to say Candy Apple Cookie's never known it? That, when she had been more recently created, the two weren't more actively involved with each other? That Shadow Milk didn't recognize her efforts, didn't praise her, didn't give her the kind of attention he currently gives his other underling... Only to stop doing that. Slowly. Slowly, but surely. Leave her hungry. Leave her wanting more. Make sure she dedicates her every living breath to trying to get it back. To getting back the only thing she's ever known. To keep trying and trying to please the very reason she exists, the only one she's ever had, no matter what.

Now, I know this isn't exactly in the text, but... are these really farfetched assumptions to make, knowing him? No. No they aren't. Specially considering just how deeply ingrained all of this seems to be for poor little Candy Apple Cookie. Is it any surprise? The whole damn world is supposed to be in his hands, anyways. She belongs to him, as far as he's concerned. He couldn't care less. And she'll likely never realize that, because this is all she's ever known.

... Candy Apple Cookie's whole existence is just miserable, isn't it?

Ahem.

I hope I've made my point. Never once was all that stuff he did in Beast Yeast 7 & 8 just about Pure Vanilla Cookie. I feel like I've proven demonstrably enough that this is all him. He loves inflicting pain. He loves tearing his little playthings apart bit by bit. He's powerful, extremely so, but he'd rather put in the effort to make sure he breaks those he takes an interest in, instead of just destroying them outright. He holds no regard for anyone but himself, and he knows damn well how to make someone feel despair crushing their very being, slowly and painfully. He's not misunderstood. He's not just weird and unable to carry out his desires normally. He's an enormous sadist who loves taking control and playing with his food as much as he can, delighting in every single moment of suffering; knowing just what heartstrings to pull at to break someone.

He may be lonely, but that's a mere byproduct. He did this to himself. None of this is a facade. It's not a farce. It never was.

You're not looking at a victim. You're looking at a monster. He knows damn well what he is. And he loves being who he is. No matter how deeply unfulfilling it may be. It's all he could ever want to be.

... And I love that about him. Oh, how utterly so. <3

[myslutwritings]

Hi! :D Can I request headcanons on the upper moon demons (1,2,3+ Muzan) reactions to finding out their fem s/o is suffering from depression? (Especially after she’s tried to hide it from them and everyone else, not once admitting to having it - frankly because she feels as if they wouldn’t care or take her seriously anyway (due to past experiences with her own family and friends), until she couldn’t keep up the facade of acting cheerful, laid back and positive all the time, it being obvious that there is something quite not right with her, even if she denies it, trying to downplay the situation, knowing full well herself that it’s getting bad).

(Aaaaaaa, I love ur headcanons 😭💓 I’m sorry if this topic is not something you’d be comfortable with writing for, it’s just something I’ve been experiencing myself lately for the past couple of months, it’s getting harder each day, kinda have been feeling empty, exhausted and genuinely depressed lately, no one that I know cares or takes me seriously, nor tries to help me overcome these emotions :), I appreciate you reading my request anyway!<3 sorry for kinda pouring my heart out, ik it’s cringe and unnecessary, sorry).

No, no! it’s completely okay. I suffer from depression myself so i’m comfortable writing for topics like these! I honestly love writing angst/hurt/+comfort so ya!! Thank you for requesting, anon!! (Also i’m happy you like my headcanons! Tysm for your kind words. I do hope you feel better and i hope these hc’s can cheer you up!)

➤ Uppermoons with a Fem!S/O who suffers from Depression

➤ SFW headcanons

including: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma and Akaza.

•

•

•

warnings: non-canon reactions, mentions of suicidal thoughts, angst, etc.

Muzan

Muzan isn’t an idiot.

He can sense from a mile away that something is in fact wrong.

I mean, you always seem off.

He just cannot tell WHAT exactly is wrong.

You’re a strange one after all. (Not in a bad way obviously)

Muzan has asked you a dozen times prior, seeking out answers, at least an explanation for your change in behavior and emotions.

He dislikes change.

But wanna know what he dislikes more? You being upset.

“My dear, could you please tell me what’s wrong?”

Of course he never gets anything out of you. You just cast him that alluring yet suspicious fake smile of yours and reassure him that you’re “okay” or “fine” or even “couldn’t be better”

Your response are so.. dishonest.

Honestly, Muzan not knowing what exactly is wrong with you drives him wild. He ALWAYS wants to know what’s wrong, what you’re feeling, how you’re feeling, etc.

And whenever he isn’t aware of what exactly your feeling or is catching on to the suspicions that your lying it does in fact anger him.

Not only does it anger him but it upsets him incredibly. Like, do you not trust him? Are you scared of him because he’s the demon king? If you were secretly terrified of his existence he wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. That’s how truly humans are after all.

But for you this isn’t the case. You aren’t even scared of him. Just scared of your own thoughts and feelings.

A part of you wishes you could open up but the other part of you is like: eh, fuck it.

Who could blame you for not wanting to open up to the demon king himself though?

You may be his girlfriend, but still, like he would actually bring himself to care.

You see how vicious he is towards other humans. So why would he even bother with your silly yet powerful emotions?

You desired to open up yourself but however that never came so Muzan had no choice but to force it out of you one day.

Toxic, sure. But you were driving him nuts!

Like he snapped when he came home one night to find you rotting in your own filth, an empty stomach, disheveled hair, god, have you been sleeping all day?

He will ask you ONCE again if you wanted to talk.

To which you respond with a sorrowful “no”

Then you for real have the gull to make up excuses saying you’ve fallen ill.

Yeah, right.

That is Muzan’s breaking point.

It startles you when he snaps at you and actually gets mad.

This is his way of caring everybody. 💀

Whenever you’re depressed the feeling of getting yelled at by someone you love can hurt you or make you feel numb on the inside, you know?

I’m this case, it all just caves in and you sorta have an emotional break down in front of him.

Muzan is at a loss for words as you spill out your deepest and darkest feelings.

At least you’re finally opening up.

But damn, bro is shocked. Please give him a minute to adjust to all this.

At first he doesn’t know how to respond, instead, he will respond physically and just let you cry in his embrace as you vent to him and babble “i’m sorry” literally over 1000 times.

Muzan knew humans had depression, he reads a lot and is well aware of what it is. He’s just distraught this his own partner felt this way for so long.

By the way, did i mention he’s going to kill anyone who’s ever wronged you?

But worry not! He is going to be there for you every step of the way even with his low tolerance:)

Kokushibo

In the beginning, Kokushibo has absolutely no clue what’s going on inside your head.

I mean, if you say you’re fine then you’re fine right?

That’s all until your seemingly bad mood increases more and more everyday.

Yeah, that’s when his suspicions SKYROCKET.

Kokushibo has asked you before but gave up on it after many failed attempts.

He still has his mild concerns though so instead he observes you from afar.

He can tell something if off but assumes that just because you’re a human.

Honestly, he had some suspicions here and there that you may or may not be dealing with severe depression.

Guess what? Those thoughts he had were correct.

You immediately assume he doesn’t care and won’t care due to his demonic nature and his expressionless behavior.

Kokushibo began to catch on more and more when you started to refuse to eat dinner, you just refused to get up from bed and even take care of yourself.

FINALLY drops that stoic personality.

Caretaker Kokushibo to the rescue. Is immediately scooping you up, siting you at the table and convincing you to eat.

If you don’t eat he’ll just spoon feed you.

That night he took care of you.

That’s when he found out of your depressed state. No confession needed.

The two of you aren’t the greatest match because of your lacked communication.

No, you two aren’t toxic. Fights don’t even exist between y’all.

You guys just can’t express feelings properly.

But Kokushibo is always waiting for you to further explain how you feel. He’s satisfied that he now is aware of what’s wrong with you but also deeply destroyed on the inside.

You don’t deserve these harsh feelings. Why must the world be so cruel?

From that day onwards, Koku keeps a close eye on you and takes care of you more often.

Sometimes even ditches missions for you.

Yeah, he gets chastised by Muzan for it but he doesn’t care.

As long as you’re safe then he feels content.

By the way he’s killing off ANYONE who made you feel this way.

Douma

very, VERY dense.

Like does not notice anything.

He just presumed that’s how you are.

Now, Douma does feel emotions around you. You’re the only thing that has ever brought him joy.

You make that cold heart of his beat.

He’s very clingy around you, like, SUPER.

Wants to be around you all the time.

Which is why it’s a shocker that he didn’t notice immediately your drastic change in behavior.

Douma only really took notice when you began to distance yourself from everyone.

Even him.

Now he couldn’t care less if you ran away from everyone else but him? Yeah, there is something wrong.

So, he simply asks you if you’re okay.

In which you lie and say you’re doing just fine.

Oh, you are? Okay!!

Is immensely confused when you continue to distance yourself though.

Haha, humans are so silly.

Douma becomes really confused but brushes it off.

It’s all surprising that he can come off so dense when it comes to this. I mean, you’re a demon? come on mannn…

Yeah, he does feel emotions around you but doesn’t fully understand them, you know?

I swear, Douma can be naive around you sometimes despite being the sadistic and masochistic demon he is.

It takes him a long ass time to realize how much you’ve been suffering.

Please do not get angry with him though. Remember that he is new to all this!

So the first emotion he feels once he finds out about your depression is EXTREME guilt.

REAL GUILT.

Flabbergasted by how fucking long it took him to find out the truth.

*Mentally facepalms himself*

His petty little followers don’t count. The man may have spend his last few hundred years listening to peoples woes and worries but his emotional responses towards their feelings were never even genuine.

To be brutally honest, Douma is hopeless.

Yeah, he wants to help you, he really does.

Just has no idea how to:(

However, if you show him how to then he will catch on fairly quickly and become the master when it comes to taking care of you and helping you cope with your depression.

Similar to Kokushibo, Cue caretaker Douma to the rescue‼️‼️

He doesn’t mind taking care of you. Honestly he absolutely adores it.

You’ve always been there for him, you taught him how to feel again. He’s so grateful that he’s finally helping you after all this time.

Lends you extra cuddles and kisses but if you’re the type to want your space when you’re depressed he’ll try his hardest to understand and be there for you emotionally instead! He just wants to be over you all the time and make sure you’re doing well, ya know?

Okay, he may lose his touching privileges but don’t think he isn’t gonna let his guard down!

From there on out, He keeps an eye on you at all times. He needs to make sure your taking care of yourself!

Douma also developed the tendency to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, his advice is surprisingly effective by the way. I mean, his advice towards you is actually genuine so that must be why.

“Oh, Y/N, my lovely lotus, i despise how you carry such a heavy burden. I wish i could take all these negative feelings away from you!”

Akaza

Like Muzan, he isn’t easy to take for a fool.

Notices the very second your behavior changes.

Akaza, being the most amazing boyfriend he is will obviously attempt to strike up a conversation, desperately wanting you to open up and communicate with him properly.

Becomes disappointed when you just brush it off as “not important”

Like what? It IS important!

YOU are MORE than important to him.

Akaza is not blind, he won’t submit nor play dumb towards your responses

Absolutely hates making you uncomfortable and would hate to force you to tell him how you’re feeling but desperate times call for desperate measures.

This is just his way for caring about you.

At first, he will try each and every day to be there for you and try and talk with you.

Sits on the side of your bed as your laying down, curled up, unmoving and will just kiss your forehead and give you time to open up.

Akaza will bug you consistently, fishing a response from you, anything, just anything!!

“Sweetheart, could you tell me what’s going on with you?”

Nothing. Just that same old response he hears every damn time.

“I’m fine”, “Nothing is wrong!”, “It’s okay, i’m doing well, just tired.”

Hatessssss when you lie to him:(

Akaza feels beyond powerless.

Your feelings are very important to him!

Sure, he hates weak people, hates any other human being he encounters but you’re different!

Akaza knows deep down you’re suffering from depression but desires for you to confess it yourself in your own time.

But at the end of the day he had to force it out of you.

Felt insanely guilt but what else could he have done?

Everything else he’s ever done for you got him nowhere due to your own stubborn dds

Akaza is not mad though.

He could never be angry with you for having depression i mean, you can’t help it.

We all know how overwhelmingly overprotective he is so the very moment he finds out a friend of family member caused you to feel this way and shut the world out he is going to throw hands.

Like, how dare they?!

Akaza is another caretaker! Skips important missions for your sake despite him knowing the punishments that come along with it.

Akaza won’t mind taking care of you but he also needs you to learn how to take care of yourself if you want to truly heal so he’ll be there for you every single step of the way in order for you to accomplish that!

Another thing that’ll happen is that Akaza will become more needy and clingy than usual. He must protest his precious girlfriend at all costs.

Kisses you and reminds you how much he loves you.

Fucking HATES it when he’s forced to leave you (when he’s summoned to the infinity castle)

But the very second he’s home he’s relieved.

On those days you’re feeling super depressed to the point where you can’t get up Akaza will cool you breakfast and serve it to you in bed. Will even feed you if he has to then eventually he’ll help you get up and offer you all the motivation and energy you need to make it throughout the day.

Bro is a gentleman.

Literally is always going to be there for you, love you unconditionally.

And most importantly…

Beat the living HELL out of whoever worsened your depression‼️‼️

I hope you enjoyed these headcanons! To all those out there suffering currently i can promise you that it’s going to be okay. You got this! <3

[atreyucannamos]

IV: The Gunslinger and the Knight, Part 3

5003u / 7576 SR THIRTEEN YEARS AGO CANNAMOS FAMILY ESTATE, CANNAMOS PRADESH, KHAYRADIN

Soundtrack: Trevor Morris - Viking Comforts

Another silence fell through the forest, deeper even than any that followed before, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath.

When he finally spoke, it was not loud, but neither was it quiet. His voice was not just deep, it was beyond deep; Atreyu had not really had the vocabulary to describe it until his geography tutor had taught him the word abyssal.

"Who is responsible for this travesty?"

Immediately, Praya and Atreyu shot to their feet and bowed as low as they could manage, speaking over one another.

"Lord Uncle, it was me, I got caught up in a game and Praya-"

"Honoured Father, I take full responsibility-"

"Quiet." A single barked word silenced them both. As if they were not even there, he turned away, towards one of the Dusk Wings. All of them had retracted their helmets and dropped to both knees in deference. "Akshey. I have entrusted unto you the safety of two children I hold dearer to my heart even than my own life, yet here I find them. Frightened. Injured. Their lives nearly ended by a... beast. Abandoned by the very kuirassers who had sworn their very lives to protect them."

There was a thump as the pilot prostrated himself, the chest of his mech flush with the forest floor. "Worshipful Stonelord, a thousand apologies could not be enough. I take full responsibility. I beg you, apportion no blame to my subordinates, allow me to take upon my should-"

Hyderad closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a breath though his nose that seemed to last for a thousand years. "I clearly cannot trust you to take upon your shoulders the safety of my own blood, Akshey. Why would I trust you with the burden of responsibility for anything else?"

Praya held up a hand. "Honoured Father, please, we snuck away from-"

"Silence," Hyderad hissed. "Do not think to excuse their failure. I expect your bodyguards to possess enough wherewithal that they are not routinely outwitted by a twelve-year-old." He turned his attention back to the kowtowing pilot. "Or is that an unreasonable demand? May a Stonelord not furnish himself with guardians of such a caliber? Do I aspire above my station, perhaps?"

He motioned around the clearing, raising his voice only the slightest degree. "Well? Answer me. How did my daughter and her cousin slip your leash? How did it take so long for anyone to notice they were gone? Why did the alarm not raise the second nobody had them in sight? After they triggered their distress beacons, why did it take almost five minutes for any of you to reach them?"

In the wake of his words, nothing disturbed the quiet. Nobody dared answer. Hyderad knelt to look upon the corpse of the rock tiger.

"This thing wasn't killed by veil rifles. If I had to venture a guess," he said, reaching down and plucking the utility knife from its chin, "it was killed either by incisive trauma to the brainstem, or intracranial haemorrhage from repeated blows to the head. Which means - unless you have taken to killing in the least efficient manner your kuirass allows - that it died before any of you even arrived. It means that my daughter and her cousin did a better job of protecting their own lives than the men I pay to do the job."

A servant, previously unseen, rushed forward to take the knife, and then another with a cloth to wipe the blood from the Stonelord's hand.

"We are truly blessed by the Builder and the Titan," Hyderad declared, "that it was a tiger, something with the wit and will of a beast, and not an Ungrateful. Had it been so, I have no doubt in my mind that my heir would be dead, or a hostage in the hands of our enemies. And you, Akshey - you and your entire squad - would be solely responsible. In every way that you could fail, you have failed. Even their safety does not absolve you in the slightest, because in no way were you able to facilitate it. Everything that befell them, they saved themselves from. Had they not, you would've arrived to the corpses of my heir and my beloved nephew being devoured."

Even through the armour of their Dusk Wing, it was clear that the pilot was trembling.

"There is no place for you or your underlings in the Khayradin Elites, Akshey." Hyderad's eyes narrowed until it was barely possible to see them at all. "For this failure, I should kill you where you stand."

The pilot cried out. "Please, Stonelord, I beg of you-"

Hyderad stamped his foot irritably. "But... my relief over seeing my daughter and nephew alive far outweighs my wrath. And it would trouble them, I am sure, to carry your deaths upon their conscience, deserved as they would be."

The man's relief was almost palpable. "Oh, thank you, merciful Stonelord, I-"

"Instead," Hyderad continued, stamping his foot again, "when I and my entourage have departed, you will doff your armor. Then, your hardsuits. I will leave a detachment here to ensure that it is done. You will leave my estate on foot, in your smallclothes, and make for the city. Should any you meet upon the way, from the lowest commoner to the highest noble, ask of your plight, you will explain to them your failure - briefly, so as not to waste the time of your betters. If they see fit they may spit, curse and strike you with my blessing. Praya, Atreyu, come." He turned on his heel.

Mechanically, the two children rose to their feet and trotted along in the wake of the Stonelord. They said not a word, and shared only a quietly terrified glance, leaving the weeping of the former bodyguards to slowly fade into the distance behind them. The only other sound was the mechanical footfalls of the Atlas suits flanking them.

"What was your mistake?" The question cut the musty forest air like a rapier.

Neither Atreyu nor Praya said anything, and so Hyderad slowed his stride turned his head the slightest amount towards them. "I've asked you a question. I expect an answer."

Praya spoke first. "We went beyond the bounds of-"

Her father waved a dismissive hand. "You are the daughter of the Stonelord and the Patriach of House Cannamos, standing on the ancestral estate that will one day be yours. Not an inch of soil here is forbidden to you. Try again. What was your mistake?"

Atreyu, trembling, made his own attempt. "We... I... shouldn't have gone off without seeking your permiss-"

Hyderad stopped suddenly and turned, causing both children to skid to a startled halt. "You would bother me every time you wish to run off and play? No, Atreyu. You are not my Graven Heir, and even she would not interrupt me for such trivialities. The instinct to seek permission is a sound one, but it was not your failing here." In a single, fluid motion, he swung back around and resumed walking. "So, I ask again - what was your mistake?"

There was another uncomfortable silence. Atreyu swallowed. "Trust?"

Again, Hyderad stopped, but this time, he seemed to genuinely regard the boy. "You begin to reach for the truth, Atreyu. But trust on its own is not a mistake. Do you see these eight men and women around you? Each of them in a kuirass, each of them wielding a sword with a blade as long as I am tall. Each of them alone could kill me - against eight, I would be as a horsefly against the mountain. But they do not. They will not. How do I know? I trust them. So, what was your mistake?"

Praya cupped her chin once more. "We didn't... see the Elites. We didn't see them. We just trusted that they were there. When they weren't."

Atreyu felt a spark of revelation. "We trusted blindly!"

Hyderad clapped his hands together, causing both children to yelp. "There you are, Atreyu! Good boy. You trusted blindly. You did not ensure for yourself that your trust was warranted. Praya, what should you have done?"

"We should've been... keeping tabs on our bodyguards," Praya replied, phrasing it half as a question. "Ensuring that they weren't too far from us to help, if we needed it?"

"I did not raise a complete fool for a daughter, clearly. In the short term, yes, these are good answers. You should have ensured that your bodyguards were present alongside you. But let us project ourselves forward, see into the yet-to-be. I see these eight men and women walking beside me; I have no need to question whether they will be with me in my time of need." He paused for effect. "But how can I trust that they will act as I require? Is that also not blind trust?"

Atreyu cautiously offered an answer. "You... have some way to ensure that they'll obey you."

For the first time since he arrived, Hyderad allowed himself the slightest of smiles. "Yes. And how do you think a Stonelord ensures such obedience? Praya, you will be Stonelord. This question is yours to answer."

Praya spoke without hesitation. "What you did back there. You showed them what happens if they fail."

The smile on Hyderad's lips widened, showing just a hint of teeth. Atreyu somehow felt like he was staring down the rock tiger again. "Yes. It's why I didn't accept your misguided attempt - noble as it was - to take responsibility for their failings. If I allowed such egregious incompetence to go unpunished, how could I trust that it would not be repeated? Mercy is a weapon in the Stonelord's arsenal, and if you use any weapon too often, it blunts."

He span on his heel once more, and again they walked in silence for a while, broken only by Hyderad's seemingly unrelated commentary on various sights they saw as they returned to the aerotrans - taking a route, Atreyu noticed, that seemed rather circuitous.

Then, without warning, Hyderad dropped another question. "Tell me, which of you proposed to sacrifice your life for the other?"

Atreyu sputtered. How could he possibly know that?!

"Atreyu did," Praya answered immediately, her face pale. "He told me to run. Said I had to live, because I was the Graven Heir. Tried to face the damn rock tiger with that little utility knife. He didn't even hesitate."

Atreyu felt his face burning with embarrassment as Hyderad fixed him with a stare.

"A demonstration of true loyalty there," the Stonelord replied, chuckling. "Stupid. Suicidal. Foolish. But very brave. You, Elites. You could learn a thing or two from this boy, and he, I think, from you. Kneel to him."

Without the slightest hesitation, there was a clatter as all eight of the kavaliers faced Atreyu and fell to one knee, their shining blades planted half a meter into the soil in front of them.

Hyderad placed a hand on child's shoulder. "Tell me, boy, and tell them. What did you feel in that moment? When death raced towards you? When you made ready to lay down your life in service to another?"

Atreyu wanted to tell the truth - that in the final moment, he flinched. That he'd wanted to scream "I don't want to die" and run for his life. That if it had been an Ungrateful, he would've begged. That he'd always played at being brave, but in the moment it had actually mattered, he'd been a coward.

Hyderad would never respect him if he admitted to it. Praya would never respect him if he admitted to it. These kavaliers would never respect him if he admitted to it. And so Atreyu told the lie that would, ultimately, define his entire life.

Soundtrack: Andrew Prahlow - The River

"I thought of the Titan, and how he's brave and bold, and faces his fate without fear."

[eldraftsman]

Day 23: Which character do you find most attractive?

Okay, listen to me...

Is it any surprise that I picked Sylvia here? I know Yor has everyone turning their eyes to her in and outside the series, but I don't think I'm crazy in saying if Sylvia had more screen time (or her design was given to the heroine instead) people wouldn't have necessarily gone that much less gaga over her.

She's composed, elegant and has a sultry voice that you cannot ignore. It's almost like a natural allure that borders on seductiveness coming from her. She's not trying to actively flirt or tease you in the slightest, she's got no use for that; yet her presence is commanding enough in many overlapping ways that you cannot really look away. And that softer, clumsier side she shows on occassion? Totally makes you want to get to see more of her.

She certainly caught my eye the very instant she was on page... and that was before I knew she was a redhead. Yes, that's my type, leave me alone

Seriously, this is one of the only shots in the entire anime that was actively played for fanservice... and you can hardly blame WIT Studio there. Sylvia knows she's got legs to flaunt and is not afraid to do so.

(Though I gotta say even this is still more tasteful than a worrying amount of what you find on the series' contemporaries in the anime space. Go figure).

[uniquelyuninspired]

Don't Blame Me, Love Made Me Crazy — Zoe x Mio

Summary- The elevator breaks down, and there's only one way to get Mio to calm down.

Notes- This is your fault, @tolpotatowrites

Warnings- NSFW

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You know…." Mio started not even ten seconds after they had entered the lift, trailing off purposefully as she inched closer to Zoe.

Zoe could already tell the type of comment that was about to come out of her mouth due to the mischievous glint in russet-brown eyes and the faintest quirk of her lips. "Oh, no! Don't you even dare!"

Mio looked almost affronted, throwing up her hands. "You don't even know what I was gonna say!"

"Whatever it is, it's going to be inappropriate," Zoe stated with certainty.

Mio bristled. "You don't know that!"

"I beg your pardon?" Zoe retorted disbelievingly, pointing accusatorily at her. "You think I don't know exactly what that devious little smile of yours means?"

"I— Well…." Mio cleared her throat, "You're wrong."

"Oh, really?" Zoe questioned sarcastically, turning fully toward Mio and resting her weight to one side as she tapped her foot lightly. "I'm waiting, Mio. What were you going to say?"

She literally watched as the embarrassment rose from Mio's collarbone up her neck, tinting her skin the slightest bit red as she averted her gaze from piercing grey eyes and stepped away, almost like she were tucking herself away in the corner of the lift in shame. Zoe almost felt a little bad — almost. However, as she faced the door again to wait for the lift to reach their designated floor, she ended up sighing not even a full minute later.

"Right," Zoe started softly, bringing herself to lean against the hand-railing beside Mio. "Now, I feel bad. So, what were you going to say?"

"Don't worry about it," Mio replied, hooking her pinky around Zoe's where their hands gripped the bar side-by-side. "It wasn't actually important."

"I'm sorry that I implied that, Mio," Zoe said honestly, smiling down at the touch. "Everything you have to say is important."

"No, really, love. It wasn't—."

But Mio was cut-off by the lift jolting to a stop with an unusual force that jostled them both. Though Zoe was completely fine, managing to right herself fairly quickly, Mio crashed into the wall to her left and hissed in pain, pushing herself upright again as she turned to look at Zoe in confusion.

Glancing around, Zoe asked, "Did the lift just—?"

The floor shook beneath their feet once more — followed immediately by Mio choking out a horrified "Oh, my god!" — like the lift was giving a final attempt to keep going before completely giving up. Then, the lights flickered and Zoe released a cry of surprise when pain shot through her arm unexpectedly, her brain focusing on the sensation to figure out that it was from Mio's hand on her forearm in a crushing hold as the lights fully went out, leaving them in the dark.

"Zoe?! Zoe?! What is happening?!"

"I don't know," Zoe answered honestly, a small sound escaping her lips when Mio's fingers only dug into her arm tighter. "Jeez, Mio! Ease off a bit!"

"Nonononono! Zoe this cannot be happening!"

Zoe frowned at the genuine fear in Mio's voice, her breathing heavy and irregular as if the air was withdrawing from the lift at a rapid pace. Oh, dear, Zoe thought as the sinking realization settled over her, she's panicking. Sliding her hand into her pocket, she removed her phone, unlocking the screen and swiping the flashlight to allow some light back into the dark space. Directing the beam of light toward the door, she moved forward to study the buttons, but Mio only tugged on her arm to keep her where she was.

"Mio," Zoe said calmly, "I need to find the emergency button." When Mio failed to let go, Zoe turned toward her, keeping the flashlight angled downward so that it wouldn't blind her but just high enough that she could see widened eyes. Immediately upon seeing the swirling panic, she stepped forward and gently caressed Mio's cheek. "Hey," she started, keeping her voice soft, "I'll come right back, all right?"

After a minute or two of Mio just staring into her eyes and Zoe soothingly rubbing her thumb over her cheek, Mio finally nodded and her grip loosened; it didn't, however, disappear. Instead, Mio slid her hand down Zoe's forearm until her hand fit into Zoe's, squeezing her fingers tightly. Thankfully, Zoe was confident that even if Mio didn't move she could still reach the buttons with this hold. Turning back around, she moved again, this time getting close enough to actually see the buttons properly, and it didn't take long to locate the correct button and press it.

Not even a second later, Zoe was yanked backward, back toward Mio. She stumbled momentarily before managing to regain her balance, and only just in time to keep herself from fully crashing into Mio by sticking her free hand out to stop her momentum, which meant her phone crashed against the wall. Yikes, I'm going to have to check the screen later. Unfortunately, the angle meant the beam was directed back at her, and to avoid the strain on her eyes, she squinted and looked in the other direction. Just barely, among her own thoughts, she caught Mio mumbling under her breath.

"Pardon?" Zoe questioned, straightening herself back up and lowering her hand from the wall to redirect her phone light. She laced the fingers of her other hand through Mio's, hoping that returning the hold would help. "I didn't quite catch that?"

When Mio spoke, Zoe could tell it was something entirely different than what she had been saying before — and though she couldn't shake the curiosity of her earlier words, she pushed the need to know aside.

"Distract me, Zoe," Mio pleaded, her other hand coming up to rest on Zoe's hip, fingertips immediately digging in. "Distract me, please! I can't…."

Her last word blurred into more mumbling, her voice so quiet that Zoe didn't even truly believe that she was saying anything. She hadn't seen Mio in a state of panic this terrible since their hellish time at Rader Publishing, though even then Mio hadn't completely crumbled into incoherent rambling. It was alarming.

"Distract you? How?" Zoe asked uncertainly.

But Mio didn't respond, eyes shutting tighter, as she merely continued breathing out hopelessly strung-together words that Zoe still couldn't fully understand. She honestly started to wonder if she was speaking some sort of secret language; she was so close, yet she didn't catch a single word no matter how hard she tried listening.

"Distract you, right…." Zoe whispered quietly, positive that Mio wouldn't notice anyway — or at least not enough to catch the slight amount of cheekiness behind it. "Did I ever tell you about that time—?"

She stopped abruptly when Mio tugged her closer, bringing their bodies together and watched as Mio leaned her head back against the wall. Trying to remember what she had been about to say, Zoe released a calming breath to clear her own mind.

"Well, as I was saying…. One time, when I was really young, I thought I could jump into hay, like in video-games. Now, I'm certain you can already tell where this story is going, but I promise it was absolutely hilarious when I realized just how wrong I was. My mother was distraught, and my dad was trying so hard not to laugh, and both of them absolutely panicked when Ella decided to try it after me. Though I think she was only trying to make me feel better about how utterly ridiculous I looked…."

But she trailed off when she realized that Mio's lips continued moving with breathless whispers, even as she tilted her head back down so that she was no longer facing the ceiling. Right, well, maybe a different story…. But nothing she could think of — stories she knew Mio would normally latch on to incredibly fast to utilize in teasing her endlessly — worked. And though she would hate to admit it, Mio's constant incoherent mumbling was beginning to irk her the slightest bit because of the spike of panic it sent through her chest.

If she were being perfectly honest, Zoe now felt like she was about to lose it as well.

"Oh, you are so going to hate me for this, but I really need you to shut up!"

Mio still didn't stop, so Zoe made an exasperated noise as her own panic flared, and without really thinking it through, she grabbed hold of Mio's face in both hands and kissed her — the only way she could think of to shut her up, even if only a temporary fix. It wasn't much of a kiss, merely a hard press against her lips to keep them from moving to let out more words, but she held there for longer than she probably should have, the quiet settling over them comforting.

When Mio's grip on her hip lessened, she thought that maybe it had worked, so she pulled away. Zoe opened her eyes, keeping her body against Mio's since she had been the one to initiate that contact and might need it. Panic was still evident in her eyes, but they were also shining with astonishment as well.

"Of course that would be the thing that worked," Zoe breathed out a light laugh of amusement.

"I…. What all did you try?" Mio asked curiously, sounding more like herself despite the quiver still evident in her voice.

"You'd gone absolutely bonkers, I couldn't get through to you with any of my stories," Zoe explained with a small smile. "And they were all very good stories! Honestly, if kissing you hadn't worked I was going to have to try slapping you instead."

"I…. You were going to what?"

Mio looked as though she were about to say more, but just then lights flickered through the room, causing them both to look up. Unfortunately, they appeared to be emergency lights, and they were only just bright enough to keep them from walking into each other, the low warm light definitely not brightening the lift enough to ease their worry. It was followed by a crackling sound, then an unfamiliar, almost robotic voice.

"The SOS was received and the firehouse has been called. Please do your best to remain calm, as you will be rescued on top priority. Please press the button with the speaker symbol and advise if you have heard this message. If we receive no response, we will assume the button is no longer functional and advise the fire department that all power is out in the elevator."

Backing out of Mio's grip, Zoe moved back over to the buttons and located the indicated one. Holding it down, she said, "We read you. Thank you."

"Please remain calm. Help will be here as soon as possible."

Releasing the button, Zoe let out a relieved breath as she realized the emergency lights would be enough, allowing her to shut off the flashlight on her phone. Turning back to Mio, she found that she was starting to hyperventilate again, her hands reaching out to her sides to grab hold of the railing, her head ducked down. "Mio?"

Lifting her head back up, their gaze locked as best as they could in the faint warm light. "Zoe, please."

The strained rasp of her plea had Zoe moving forward before she was even aware that she was doing so, and as she approached, she reached out and placed her hand against Mio's sternum, straightening her stance. Mio's hands found her waist as Zoe pushed her back against the wall, bringing her lips to barely brush over Mio's before faltering with uncertainty.

When she could feel how ragged Mio's breathing was, she made her decision.

"Please forgive me," Zoe requested of whatever higher power watched over them in judgment as she sealed her lips over Mio's.

Physical touch always calmed Mio down, and Zoe was well aware that there was a specific kind that worked better than any other. It's for Mio, it's for Mio. She repeated that in her head multiple times as she slid her hand holding her against the wall down to cover her breast instead and pressed her thigh forward between Mio's legs. Mio's lips parted against hers and her fingers dug into her waist, somehow dragging her body forward even though there was basically no space left between them. Bringing her other hand up to join the other, she focused on the change in Mio's breathing and the reactions of her body: The way her shoulders relaxed, the way her chest pressed encouragingly into Zoe's hands, the way her hips shifted against her thigh, the way her hands slipped down to grab Zoe's backside.

"Zoe?" Mio whispered against her lips.

"Is it working?" Zoe asked, trailing her lips down to Mio's neck when she nodded. "Then tell me what you need."

"Fuck me. Please?" Mio requested, a desperation Zoe was well-acquainted with straining her voice.

Oh, dear, Zoe thought, moving her thigh away from Mio's body as she lowered her hands down to tease over the button of her jeans, we are definitely going to be cursed for this. Undoing the button and zipper, she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her underwear and into her pants despite the tight fit of the jeans. She moved by memory alone, hating that she felt rushed in pleasing her girlfriend, using her thumb to stimulate her clit as she slipped two fingers into her, slowly working them farther in until they were as deep as they could be. Reaching down with her free hand, she lifted Mio's leg up and pressed it to the side with her hip, coaxing a long groan from Mio as she did so.

"Fuck, Zoe," Mio breathed out with a gravelly voice. "Your fingers always feel so fucking good."

Zoe flushed with the praise, but shoved the feeling away in favor of focusing solely on Mio.

Trying to keep an ear out for any sound that indicated the rescue team had arrived, she started with a faster pace than she normally would given their looming time-limit, finding herself already annoyed with the fact that her clothes remained hindersome. She truly didn't understand why everyone enjoyed "quickies" so much; but she would always do just about anything for Mio.

That apparently included having sex in a broken lift.

Moaning loudly when fingers crooked, Mio buried her face in Zoe's neck, securing her arms tighter around her body as she rocked her hips down into her hand, her breathing now labored for an entirely different reason — Zoe could easily tell the difference. She would definitely have to tease her later for sex being the only thing that could calm her down; that is, after she stopped having anxiety about it herself. For now, however, she brought her hand up to cradle the back of Mio's head as she let her keep her face in the crook of her neck, her other hand continuing to work her fingers into her with short, deep thrusts, doing her best to ignore the extra challenge the jeans created.

But then faint voices filtered through the doors of the lift, quickly followed by a banging and a louder voice calling out to them. Mio groaned in frustration as Zoe immediately removed her fingers and pulled away, panic flaring in her chest as she frantically wiped her hand off on the inside of her shirt and called back to the man to let him know they had heard him. The fire department — and their rescue — had arrived. Glancing over to check on Mio, her stomach tightened in both arousal and guilt, feeling terrible for leaving her in this state. She stepped back over, directly in front of her, swiftly fixing her jeans as she pressed a kiss to her cheek before bringing her lips to her ear so that she could keep her voice quiet enough that she wouldn't be heard.

"I promise I'll make it up to you later."

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

So did season 3 Zuko genuinely believe Ozai loved Azula? Is that why he was okay with ratting her out to him with no fear of what he might do to her?

Zuko is a 16-year-old boy that was a victim of abuse pretty much his entire life. It took him THREE WHOLE YEARS to realize that their father disfiguring and banishing him for speaking out of turn/against a cruel plan, and refusing to fight him, was, in fact, a deeply horrible thing for Ozai to do and it was all Ozai's fault.

Is it fair or realistic to expect him to understand that, even though Azula managed to live up to Ozai's insane expectations for his children, it was still unfair of him to put so much pressure on her and that it was only a matter of time before she cracked under it? Can we really blame him for not realizing Azula is being psychologically abused when she's in denial about it herself and actively trying to convince everyone around her that everything she does is effortless? And when the adults he actually trusts, aka his mother and uncle, are ALSO not aware of what's going on right in front of their faces?

Can we blame a child who is desperate to get even the slightest bit of approval and affection from his parent, and never achieving it, for thinking their sibling has an easier, enviable life because they ocasionally get some conditional love?

Can we expect someone who just heard their parent say the words "Your sister was born lucky, you were lucky to be born" to just casually ignore that very clear "I wish you were dead, you don't deserve to exist" and focus only on the implications of "Wait, is he dismissing my sibling's life-long attempts, and success, of living up to his expectations as sheer dumb luck, not hard work and genuine talent?"

I've said once, I'll say it again: Zuko's attempts to survive all the trauma he endured are basically the same as someone who is panicking while drowning and trying to pull under the person that is trying to rescue them because they cannot think clearly in such a dire situation.

It's no coincidence that the two main moments in which we see him having compassion for Azula (in The Southern Raiders and then in the finale post Agni Kai) take place AFTER he has turned his back on Ozai and found a group of people who love and support him. He is now watching the situation from the outside, from a safe distance, not while in the middle of all the chaos, unsure if he's gonna make it.

And for the first time, Zuko can actually see his sister. A prodigy, but still someone that is trying to meet impossible standards. A brave, fierce, DANGEROUS warrior, but also a deeply traumatized child.

There's a reason Aaron Ehasz, the head-writter and executive producer of the show, has repeatedly said that, if Avatar had gotten a fourth season, he would have liked Zuko to essentially be Azula's Iroh and help her heal and redeem herself. He is literally the only other person in the world that knows what being Ozai's child is like, even if he was the scapegoat while she was the golden child.

[tartagilicious]

i love the fact that dottore just somehow was able to successfully treat collei's eleazar, and it's always just made me think 😭😭 who in his life had it to the point where he mastered caring for a disease with no cure? insane lore for a mad scientist archetype!! also hello (: this isn't the end of my hiatus, but i'm trying to play genshin more again now that i have the time so dottore brainrot is back!!!! c.w: blood

all the ways to kill the one you love (1.6k)

When you fall to your knees in the dark hall, you can only pray that the person in front of you knows that it wasn’t of your own volition. The only thing to blame is your own negligence for getting you into this situation – perhaps you’d be in better shape if you had been more prepared for your Eleazar to break out. 

Because from the moment you set foot into the frigid country’s very own Zapolyarny Palace, it has been in your absolute best interest to stay under the radar. Coming from the Akademiya, you know well that you are not particularly popular with any of its inhabitants.

Though, that isn’t your concern. You’re here to determine if the Fatui have been able to locate the missing Dendro archon as a vessel of Irminsul; a child of Sumeru and vision holder in the Akademiya. Effectively, you don’t intend to make any lasting friends, so to say. You’re unsure of the Akademiya’s plans with the information you find, but whatever you glean from your time here will be insignificant once out of your hands.

It was easy to convince the Grand Sage that your place amongst the heretics in Snezhnaya would be with their soldiers, despite the fact that your student-life had been plagued by your condition. Because the simple truth is that they didn't care about the technicalities, as long as you’re able to relay the info they require, they could care less if you died with it. 

Your time in the Fatui itself has been anxiety-inducingly bleak, though, and certainly nothing like what you expected. Low ranking soldiers are treated as employees, almost, sent from place to place in order to protect property and officials. But nothing has ever made you rethink your decision to accept a mission as much as this. 

The hydro vision you keep tucked away in your uniform should be helping to push down the pain – it has always helped. But be it the cold weather or something else entirely, your incorrigible disease seems to be flaring up more than usual. Even if you were blessed with a portion of Celestia's magic, you have been reminded from a young age that power is dangerous; and it cannot fix everything. 

However, your vision has never failed you so noticeably until now. 

The awful warmth in the back of your throat is a stark contrast to the cool tile beneath your hands. Your bunkmate is somewhere behind you, you think – she had been the one to find you, after all, clinging to a wall with a hideous mixture of blood and mucus pooling at your chin. 

You call out to her, voice weak as you attempt to stand. No response. The unknown doctor you had been led to is still silent so far, possibly making no move simply to see what you will try to do in your state. You can feel his eyes on you as you croak, 

“Has she gone?”

Something in the quiet air sparks as your voice breaks the silence. You look up begrudgingly, curious to see who you’re at the feet of even as your skin tingles painfully. You’re disappointed to find that the man’s face is obstructed by a mask that is vaguely owl-like, leaving nothing but the very corners of his lips visible. 

You don’t recognise him in the slightest, and yet, he frowns. 

Then, in his expensive slacks and in a way that surely creases his boots, the doctor kneels down to your level. Your heartbeat quickens intermittently as your eyes track his slow movements. You can’t help but be shocked by the sudden display of attention when he had clearly been resigned to only watching you before.

It’s difficult to look right at him when there are no eyes to find, so you can only look at the ground as the doctor studies you. 

You want to speak badly, to ask him to help you, but the words catch regrettably in your throat. Brows tightening, you throw a shaky hand over your mouth as a cough forces its way up. And too quickly, the blood that had pooled at the back of your throat empties into your mouth without warning, the taste instinctually pulling a whimper from you. 

A brief chuckle sounds from above you.

All you can register from that point on is a gloved hand slipping under your chin, tipping your head upwards. You attempt to shake your head in protest. Yet, all the Doctor does is wipe the blood that pebbles from your lips with a careful thumb. 

“How pitiful” The Doctor finally speaks, his rough voice thoughtful. “I’d thought you better than this.”

Your brows wrinkle in confusion as his thumb lingers near your mouth. He provides no explanation to his mysterious remark, though, merely turning your chin from side to side in an effort to look at your face in its entirety. Your chest burns with each movement.

Too helpless to do anything but stare at him, an old image slowly begins unfolding before you – though his face is covered, canine teeth are visible as he teases you. You’re almost certain that if he took off his mask, you’d be staring into the crimson eyes of someone you’d never forget.

Without thinking, you grasp at his wrist. The painful buzz solidifies between you without the barrier of a glove, but you don’t back down. 

“Zandik?” You whisper, brows creasing in concern. “How…?”

The Zandik you know is dead. This much is clear, no matter the way you look at it. But until now, you’d thought the former was undisputable. 

“You disappeared. I thought you were gone, but now you're with them?” You whisper harshly, sadness leaching into your voice.

After a few quiet moments, he drops your chin with a deep hum and pulls himself away from you. 

You crumble in on yourself and cough excess blood into your hand almost instantly, though he does nothing to help you this time. When you’ve caught your breath, he says, 

“You’ve always been one for flattery. I have never been any better than them.”

That’s not true. It’s not. You want to yell it at him, to insist until this awful cold facade of his ceases and you’re able to see the same person you’d gone to the Akademiya with. The same person who, despite having been hardened by the people that had outcased him, still flinched when insulted. The only one who would touch your hands that were inured with violet scales, and who valued your ability to forgive those who have hurt you. 

He was a person whose interest in things stemmed from his want to improve. Who’s status as an outcast came from his inability to compromise when it came to his life’s work, his desire to evolve. You found solace not in his frigid company,  but in the way your condition garnered the most intimate of his attention.

With the very same material that was enough to consider him a danger to Sumeru, he had successfully fought off the more gruesome symptoms of your Eleazar. With you, he was understood; needed. But with him, you finally felt whole. Both were things neither of you were ready to give up.

“Flattery.” Your voice is broken as you stare at the ground, body propped up by nothing but your weak forearms. “It’s so like you to insist anything good about you is false.”

A small frown is visible around the corners of his pointed mask. 

“What brings you to Snezhnaya, ___?”

“...I’m dying, Zandik.” You say quietly. He’s the first person you’ve admitted it to, even before yourself. In your student years, you’d been hopeful, confident, that your hydro vision would be enough to sustain you through a normal life. The very archon it stands for vies for equality on all fronts, between good and evil as well as sickness and health. 

But now, you know it isn’t enough. You’re old enough to look past the thin veil that has been protecting your fragile mind all these years and see the truth – that you were never meant for a long life. 

“What a headache.” He sighs it out placidly. You can’t find it in yourself to meet his eye as he kneels before you once again, every ounce of love he had once felt for you gone, yet somehow seeping from the cracks of his resolve all the same.  

You fully prepare yourself for the inevitable result of being told to leave, to seek refuge with a real doctor and not test fate in his hands. But, he doesn’t. Instead, a gloved hand reaches for your shoulder, pushing you up your knees. Your muscles sting with over-exertion as the cloud of hair leaves your face.

“How long have you been aware?”

Your back aches as you wipe the blood from your lips.

“A couple weeks.” You answer quietly, your words like a ghost in the frigid winter air. 

Dottore doesn’t answer immediately, a frown etched into his face permanently. Your breath catches as he reaches into his pristine white jacket. Gingerly, he wipes the blood from your lips with the steady hands of a surgeon. The action is not necessarily cold, but it is not full of the same warmth you remember either.

His voice is guttural when he says, “You’re foolish for coming here.” for coming to me. 

You want to laugh, to half-heartedly agree with him. You aren’t sure that you would have let your bunkmate bring you here if you knew that this was the fate you were going to meet. Of all the people in the world, Dottore is the only person who would be able to call you on your bluffs – on all of the reasons you’re here, and every reason the Akademiya has to value you. 

You could become nothing very quickly, as soon as he wishes. 

But, there's something inside you that wrestles with the fear -- something soft and carefully hidden that refuses to leave this revelation, this reunion, behind.

And so, you force out a soft, “I know.”

You both know his harsh words don’t hold any real meaning. After all, the fearsome Harbinger is equal to you in this moment, on his knees just as you are. And if nothing else, it gives you hope that things are not as lost as they seem.

tartagilicious 2023

[r0semultiverse]

Qrow’s Semblance is Fortune! 🐦‍⬛

I talked about this briefly before, having speculated that Clover’s pin carries on his good luck after death or that Qrow has just done a lot of training mentally and/or physically. @benevolentslut had some amazing additions as well & I want to sum up this theory for you as best as I can as we reached similar conclusions even before I had read her reblog.

Qrow has only been in the negative all his life, mentally and emotionally.

This man has had barely any positivity in his life.

"His whole life he's been the epitome of cynicism and pessimism." - @benevolentslut

Qrow grew up under constant stress & threat of those around him.

Needless to say, but I don't think he could trust anyone he grew up around except maybe Raven.

Then he has to constantly worry about being found out by the other huntsmen! Also growing up with the threat of huntsmen and Grimm the entire time!

Then Oz drops the whole Salem problem on him & I'm sure that didn't help his mental health in the slightest!

"His sister leaves him and their team, and then summer disappears." - @benevolentslut Yeahhhh he is losing everyone close to him in one way or another! That cannot be a fun experience!

This look like the face of a guy that's doing okay?

I'm just going to copy paste this here as I hadn't noticed it & it feels worth noting that the intensity of his misfortune seems to increase with the increasing mental strain.

While we don't know for sure that all of these things are a byproduct of Qrow's misfortune semblance, it certainly isn't out of the realm of possibility. Notice the worsening of his mental health resulting in potentially more disastrous outcomes. 😰

"we see him blaming himself constantly for everything that goes wrong, and it only causes that to become more true." - @benevolentslut

She lists a lot more examples of where Qrow's semblance has potentially worked this way in the original post. Clover comes along & starts lifting him up, giving him actual hope. He now has a little seed of hope planted in him. 🍀

Wow, Qrow is doing so good for himself lately! I sure hope nothing-

Oh... oh no. From his perspective Ruby & Yang could literally be dead. He is stricken with grief as he watches it all unfold & probably sunk back down into a negative spot mentally. He may even blame himself in some way.

When you're this low, there's a saying that goes "nowhere to go but up."

I firmly believe that Qrow would see things that way, especially after reaching his lowest point. He can only do his best to help those around him. Though he's the most alone he's ever been, he's becoming a part of a new community where people help one another. In that sense, it's impossible to be alone. In spite of it all, he slowly finds his mental health improving! Ruby's message to the world is bringing people together! 🌹

"and we see him take up clover's role, both in terms of how he's helping out around shade, and more literally, in the unmissable parallel where he catches the guy who trips." - @benevolentslut

Ruby & Clover have both filled him with hope & he's more optimistic than he's ever been, which results in bursts good fortune! ✨

There's also already a premise for shifts in mental health and trauma resulting in semblance evolution.

Cinder betrayed Neo & so she winds up in the Ever After & through her form changes is showing us that she now has negative feelings towards Cinder.

She's so upset that her semblance starts to make multiple clones of her which it has never been able to do before. Her Overactive Imagination semblance has evolved due to the state of her mental health.

Her semblance begins to evolve so much to where she can create entire architectural structures and buildings out of it!

She can even use it to talk through the people she recreates, something she's not physically capable of herself.

While we do have to take into account that the Ever After plays by rules that are a little bit different at times; this absolutely confirms that semblances, much like people, can change & grow! 💪

My conclusion: Volume 10 & beyond will show Qrow's personal semblance evolution as he finds out that his power is actually Fortune itself & the ability to control it, good and the bad.

[thefanficsideblog]

Moonlight And The Break Of Dawn - Astarion (Part 1/5)

Content Warnings: Mentions And Reference To Abuse, Trauma and Consent Issues. Canon Compliant Trauma, Violence and Threat. Canon Divergent Powers. No Use Of Y/N, Tav Supplemented. Gendered Pronouns Used (she/her). Not Beta/Proof Read.

This was written for a friend and myself but I thought I might aswell share it here.

Behind every exquisite thing that existed there was something tragic – Oscar Wilde

No grave can hold my body down, – I’ll crawl home to her – Hozier

Your presence will be sun in winter – Alfred Lord Tennyson

The road is long and the path is winding, you had never really given it any thought before but the days under your feet that put distance between you and the crash, are both exhaustingly long to comprehend and not far enough. Though you wonder if any distance could be far enough. Your head is throbbing, an irritating repeating painful pulse that surges through your mind between steps. You wish you could blame the pain on the tadpole swimming around in your cerebellum but you know the much more likely truth- you're dehydrated. And more than that, you're lacking a decent amount of blood in your system to compensate for that. You let your eyes shift to your left where Astarion walks a few strides ahead of you, he is walking with such energy and a strange type of confidence, even for him. You wonder if he knows what you do, you wonder if he has the slightest clue that he hasn't fooled you, not for a moment, not even the smallest amount. He thinks he has everything laid out, this perfect little plan, he thinks he is playing you like a fiddle. But you're smarter than that, smarter... but not wiser. You can read his manipulation like a favourite book, because in some ways that's exactly what it is. You've done this before. You recognize this. In it's twisted way, it feels like coming home. He is using you, and you're letting him.

You want to feel guilty about it, you want to be mad at yourself for not falling for his facade but actively walking directly into this trap of his. But you cannot bring yourself to be. Because for all the planning and scheming. For everything he is trying to achieve with you, you know one more thing, one thing that maybe he doesn't even know yet. You know why.

His hands flex in the sunlight and you know he is pretending it's not stunning him, but it has been a lifetime since he got to be in sunlight, you don't blame him for basking in it. It’s almost enough to keep him from complaining about the bugs as you navigate the wetlands.

Astarion swats away a bug with his hand and mutters a few curses under his breath. “I cannot wait to be free of these bug infested woods,” he says, as if it was everyone else’s responsibility to make that happen.

“Used to fancier environments are you fancy boy?” Karlach asks.

“Most certainly, it’s not hard to have higher standards than somewhere where these little cretins bite you for taking a step,” Astarion points out. “I know the better places in Baldur’s Gate, no nasty little buzzing critters guaranteed.”

“Blood suckers,” Shadowheart muses at the mosquitos. “You think you would have more sympathy for them Astarion.”

The look he shoots her way is a smile, but it’s so full of malice that it is much more of a grimace, “Oh so you can make jokes?” he asks. “Not forbidden to laugh under your false god?”

“Let’s not,” Karlach laughs, clapping her hands together, “let’s not start anything that I will have to finish.”

“I say let them have it out, fighting will only make us stronger,” Lae’zel offers up, swiping at a vine that leans too close to her body for her comfort.

“Let’s keep the fighting for the enemy, if we start fighting amongst ourselves, then we are truly fucked,” you point out, walking faster to put yourself as a social shield between Astarion and Shadowheart, who look equally likely to attempt to draw blood.

“Sunshine to the rescue,” Astarion teases. If you weren’t too busy trying to decipher if he is genuinely irritated with your interference, you might pay more attention to the way he calls you that: Sunshine. You might be able to see the layers within it, read all the implications in such a simple word. Sunshine: something he has been denied for years, something he never thought he would get to have again, something he didn’t know he missed until it wasn’t able to access it. Something he is scared of losing again. But you notice none of that, not while you’re trying to read past the gentle slumping of his body against a nearby tree, the way he cocks his head to the side, watching you. The tiny curve in the corner of his mouth that might be all that slips through in an attempt not to smile. He leans back like a bored rake eyeing up his next conquest, something that on anyone else would be unflattering, but on him it’s ungodly elegant, and you have to look away.

“Hello,” comes a voice from the rocks. The whole party glances up to see a man moving in a hurried manor down to greet you. His hair is long and his movements determined, but he still meets your gaze with an attempt of a smile.

“Hello?” you echo back at him.

Astarion eyes the man with reproach which you admit it’s new for him, everyone is either someone worth charming or someone he would rather not be bothered by, this man certainly seems to be the latter. “Must we stop and speak with every wayward walker?” he huffs.

“I won’t take up too much of your time,” the man assures you, eyes flitting to Astarion, “I’m Gandrel-,”

“Oh, you are Gur,” Astarion says, stopping his slacking, and standing up really straight, arms crossed neatly cover the cotton of his black shirt. “Monster hunter, come to cast some type of curse?”

You elbow Astarion and he looks genuinely confused as he complains at the almost violent interaction. Gandrel laughs it off, looking not half as inconvenienced as you would have expected. “And every other thing people think my kind can do, honestly I wish I could do half of it,” he says, “but alas, we are mere mortals.”

“Brave words for men who hunt monsters,” Shadowheart says, looking almost apprehensive at the man in front of them. “So what are you hunting?”

“Let me guess,” Astarion says, moving his hands around as he speaks, all theatre and brimming with a strange type of enthusiasm. You’d almost think he was nervous, but you haven’t seen him nervous before, why would he start now? “Wendigo? Or better yet some winged horror?”

“Nothing that exciting I am afraid,” Gandrel states, his smile is welcoming, “some vampire spawn.”

If Astarion could get any paler, he would in his moment, his muscles stiff and his words threatening to falter, you sense his panic without as much as a glance. “A vampire spawn?” you ask, hints of laughter in your voice. “Not even a full vampire, how is that worth your time?”

Astarion glares at you, but he knows what you’re doing so he holds in a pout before adding. “I don’t know, spawn can be quite a handful, powerful things,” he says.

“Your friend is unfortunately right, and this spawn… he is particularly dangerous,” you don’t take your eyes off Gandrel, afraid if you look at Astarion you might see him smirking, “I was wondering if maybe you’ve seen anything.”

“What do you know about this spawn?” you ask, scorning yourself mentally for not coming off more subtle.

“His name is Astarion,” he starts, and you don’t hear much more after that, he begins to explain why he is hunting him, and what he has done, but the words just blend into the wind, and you are doing everything you can to try and act calm. You hear the words dangerous and volatile and in some deep met instinct you step back and in front of Astarion, leaning into him, you look afraid. You look like the man’s stories are bringing you concern, like you’re seeking comfort. But you’ve learned enough from wolves to know how to play this game. Astarion doesn’t know how to respond to your sudden proximity and just stands idle, listening to the man talk.

“Well I…” you look for the right words, the right approach to take.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Gandrel assures you. You feel sick to your stomach, this man is trying to be kind, his concern is genuine, and you know as well as the others that Astarion is not a saint, he is no pinnacle of good, he has done things. He has done unthinkable things. But he was surviving, and you cannot think you would do any different. Not that he ever had a choice in those awful things, Astarion has not had a choice in anything in two hundred years. “But you should be careful.”

“It sounds like this is a real threat,” you manage.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Astarion asks, “maybe we should… do something about the threat?”

“What would you do, if you found him, kill him?” Shadowheart asks, taking a little too much joy in this situation.

“No, I am on orders to bring him back alive,” Gandrel explains. The fear rolls off Astarion in waves, somehow that is worse, somehow that is so much worse. You’ve not doubted for a moment, since he told you, since you found out what he is and how he became it, Astarion would rather die than go back to Cazador, and he really doesn’t want to die.

“We shall keep a close eye out,” you say. You feel Astarion’s discomfort. He does to express something, annoyance perhaps but you look up at him, and he can hear you in his head, clear as that first moment when he saw your memories from the crash.

‘Trust me, I am not letting him find you, just trust me.’

And it takes all his effort, fighting every instinct he has, but he does. The others start to continue moving, and you watch Gandrel setting up camp. “I’ll be right with you,” you tell the others, letting yourself fall behind.

Gandrel is a good man from all you’ve seen. You know Astarion wants him dead. You can understand why he would feel that way, because as far as the eye can see it’s the way to keep Astarion safest. But you have another idea, a long shot, probably will end up the same way, but you’re going to try it anyway idea. And it has your hands shaking.

“Can I help you?” Gandrel asks, looking up at you from where he is laying out his bedroll. You cannot do this with his eyes on you, so you force yourself to do something you’re not very good at. You think on your feet.

“Strange question but you don’t happen to have any… wispweed do you?” you ask, eyeing his bag. “I have some payment, I just am running low.”

He gives you a smile and your heart plummets into your stomach. “Let me look,” he says, turning to reach into his bag.

You reach forward as fast your can a hand either side of his temple and you blood all of your power into freezing his muscles, you wait a short moment, checking that it has worked, but when all you can hear is the slow beat of his heart you move with more conviction. You haven’t done this in a long time, and you’ve got to get it right. You’re navigating his mind, looking for the right place, the right centre to alter, finding the pulses and the pathways. When you find them you can feel your own nerves starting to burn, this is not easy magic, this is not careful magic, it is unstable and you need it over quickly. “You don’t know anything about Astarion, you are not looking for him, and you will not find him,” you start saying, feeling the magic changing the pathways as you command it to, “even if you found him, you could not see him, you could not hear him, you would not know who or what he was, and you can never learn,” you feel sick but you know the last thing, the other thing and it tumbles from your lips before you have time to reconsider, “and if you were to be at risk of causing him harm, you would slit your own throat before putting him in danger.” You step back and your mind is swimming, the tadpole is feeding off the energy and you take no comfort in that.

Gandrel pauses before resuming what he was doing, he turns to you, empty handed. “Sorry,” he shrugs, “no luck.”

“No worries,” you say, voice shaking, “I will keep looking,” you turn on your heels, “Gandrel?”

“Yes?” he asks.

“Good luck on your hunt,” you pause, “what are you hunting again?”

He is quiet for the longest time, “A… hag?” he sounds unsure, “must be, that’s what I know is in this area.”

“Keep yourself safe,” you tell him. He tells you to do the same as you disappear to catch up with the group.

“Smart move that,” Karlach is saying to Astarion, “she has quite the head on her shoulders.”

“What?” Astarion asks, he hadn’t been paying attention, trying to listen at a distance to what you were saying and failing.

“Tav,” Karlach says, “pulling the whole wolf bit.”

“What in the gods are you talking about?” Astarion asks. Karlach eyes him, surprised that he missed it.

“When she stood in front of you,” Karlach says, like it is obvious. “Playing scared, it’s a wolf trick. When a wolf is being threatened their female mate often cowers underneath, hiding close, it looks like she’s afraid but really she is protecting the softest and most exposed part that the enemy could attack, the throat,” as Karlach explains it becomes painfully obvious that was exactly what you had been doing, you’d stepped into him, to put yourself between him and the threat, you’d been acting scared to protect him, “so when she-,”

“She was shielding me,” Astarion muses, “how thoughtful, and entirely unnecessary.”

“Sure buddy,” Karlach says laughing. “Because you weren’t scared shitless.”

“I am not dignifying that with a response,” Astarion states.

You catch up to Astarion and Karlach’s stride and Karlach starts that excited gushing she does, talking about something you wish you knew more about, but are happy to listen. “He won’t be a problem,” you whisper to him as Karlach talks. He doesn’t respond, but you can see in his eyes that he is trying to process your words. “I didn’t kill him,” you manage, quick and quiet, “but he would die before he sets eyes on you again. You don’t need to be looking over your shoulder, at least not for him.” You don’t miss the way Astarion is watching you, almost like he is hungry.

You’re setting up to settle down for the night when he beckons you over, he has barely said a thing since Gandrel and you weren’t sure if you’d upset him somehow. “Can we have a word?” he asks. You nod and follow him as he walks a distance from the campfire, leaving the others in the low amber light. “What you did,” he starts, but you’re already shrugging it off.

“He was a threat to you, I couldn’t let that be the case,” you say. He is flickering his eyes over yours, searching for something.

“That pesky little moral code of yours, you couldn’t kill him,” he says.

“I didn’t kill him,” you echo your earlier sentiments. “But I neutralised the problem… permanently.”

“You used mind magic,” he realises, you try again to shrug it off like it is nothing, but his is smiling, and it’s so coy and mischievous.

“I did not expect that to give you an ego boost,” you admit.

“That’s not easy magic darling, and you went to all that effort for little old me?” He is leaning in, grinning, his fangs unabashedly on display. Your knees feel weak at the sight of him, and you know he knows it.

“I wouldn’t let him hurt you Astarion,” you tell him, “I promised you that much. What I said when I found out what you were, I meant it. I am going to do everything in my power to make sure you get your freedom back, I mean that.”

He steps forward and you step back, and your back presses into a tree. He leans, one hand resting against the bark of the tree, just above your shoulder, almost pinning you in, as his other hand reaches up to brush a few loose strands of hair from your face. “Well, I suppose a thank you is in order,” he says, holding your chin between finger and thumb. “A reward for your protection.” He kisses you, it’s heated and fast, you can feel the way he presses against you and it steals almost every thought you have. You want this, of course you want this, you don’t remember a time you didn’t want this. But something about it makes your heart sink. Maybe it was the look in his eyes as he leaned for you, like it was so rehearsed, like he was playing this role, or maybe you can just feel something wrong, something insincere. You pull away and Astarion is nothing short of stunned.

“Is there a problem,” he asks, leaning in again, trying to regather is bearings, but you just turn your head away.

"Astarion- stop," you tell him. His whole body goes rigid, completely lost in confusion.

“I guess I misunderstood,” Astarion says, and you swear he sounds hurt. It’s his fear, the rejection, you realise so quickly, like a match being lit, what he thinks is happening. He thinks you don’t want him to kiss you, he thinks you don’t want him. He couldn’t be more wrong.

"No, it's not that, gods it's not that," you assure him. "I'd take being side by side with you, not even close enough for shoulders to brush, than... anything with anyone else. That's not it."

He blinks and his voice comes out more bitter than you would like it to be as he speaks, “then what the hells is it?” He is curious, confounded, completely unsure of where this is going. He has not been rejected, not for a long time. How could anyone turn him down? He knows he is beautiful, everyone tells him as much, he is charming and this routine always works, and yet you pull away.

"Astarion, I don't want you doing this because you think you have to," you say. Astarion isn’t sure he has heard you right. He thinks the words must be in the wrong order, or that they came out wrong.

“What?” he asks, voice devoid of any tone.

“Astarion I don’t want you to… do this, whatever this is, unless you want to,” you tell him. He is slow to register your words and you can see that on his face.

“Don’t you want me?” he asks. You feel like you could snap, the need in his voice, the desperation to be loved, wanted, desired. In spite of everything, he still craves that.

“Astarion, I want that, of course, but I only want it if you want it,” you try to explain. “I don’t want anything you don’t want, I don’t want you to do this because you think you owe me. I protected you because I care, because I wanted to, I didn’t do it so you would reward me.”

Everything he has been doing was instinct, it was taught behaviour, it is exactly what he has been doing for hundreds of years to survive, but now it was different because he wasn’t doing it for Cazador, he was doing it from himself, to protect himself from Cazador, so in it’s own way nothing has changed. It was a simple plan, sweet talk, seduce, bed, create a sense of bonding and then know that there was someone in his corner, someone who wouldn’t turn on him, someone to protect him, fight with him and for him. But you were doing all the work, you were willing to fight for him, and you weren’t asking for anything in return, and more jarringly you weren’t expecting anything in return.

"How did you know?" He asks, not able to meet your eye.

"Because our wounds might be different but our scars match just fine," you tell him. "Not being able to say no, and feeling like you cannot say no are close siblings in pain."

He is watching you now, closer, like he is seeing you anew, or maybe just truly seeing you for the first time. He had thought that you were easy to manipulate, that it would be straightforward, and in ways it was, it had been, it was easy, natural even. But he hadn’t considered how strange and natural it was to you. How you looked at him with such knowing, such understanding, but never once asked for the truth when you knew what he said was lies.

He watches you look away, turning from the light, as if you’re scared of all the things it might illuminate, suddenly lay bare.

"But you want me?" He asks.

"I don't want anything you don't," you tell him. He sighs, raking a hand over his neck, a little agitated that you're not hearing what he is asking.

"That's not what I mean, you would want me," he says, more of a statement now than a question, but his eyes still beg for an answer.

"Yes," you tell him, "I don't know how well that might go, or what that would look like but yes, I want you, and I would want to, or I want to want to... it's complicated."

"I know," he says and you know he does. "When you stepped back from Karlach," he says slowly.

"I struggle with... contact sometimes," you admit. You'd known Karlach wasn't going to touch you, that she couldn't touch you but you'd flinched anyway and it haunted you. You can feel Astarion looking at your neck now and you pinch the edges of your collar to pull it down and give him better access but he doesn't move.

"Why do you let me?" He asks.

"You need it," you say. "And I want to help."

"So, after all this you're going to start keeping things from me now?" He asks, almost coy. "Come on darling, tell me the truth."

"You need it, and I want to be needed, if I can offer you this, knowing the others can't, I know you're less likely to run from me," you say, staring at the ground, "you're not the only one looking for protection. You wanted it from the world, I wanted it from being left behind."

“You are protecting yourself,” he whispers. His eyes dance over you, taking all of you in, and he cannot help but wonder, how you could reduce yourself to thinking your only worth the blood pulsing through your veins. He catches himself, and wonders how he could let you feel that way. Or worse yet, if he made you feel that way. His plan was so easy, so simple, and it felt like you were falling for it, like he could make you fall for him, the guise, the mask, the charisma, like it was second nature. But that’s what he had been wrong about, you had fallen for him, it was obvious in those eyes that were staring right back at him. He had you at this point, this moment in time, where you would leave the entire world behind for him. But not the him he meant for you to feel this way about, the act, the rake, the smooth talker with the smile like a devil. It was the part of him that he buried under that, the man behind the vampire, that was the Astarion you were so desperate to help, to hold onto. He can not understand this care you have for him, or the feeling in his chest that is blooming from it. He doesn’t know how to do this right, not when he is known, when he is seen, when he is wanted in all the ways he had long forgotten you could want a person. Before Cazador and the betrayal and the sex and the death. The way you can want a person exactly as they are, no conditions, and no strings. You look at him and everything you do not say with words is written clearer than daylight on your face: ‘show me your sharp edges, show me your thorns, show me the most dangerous, unlovable parts of you, and I will show you my hands, open, waiting, willing to bleed.’

“You give up parts of yourself in the name of protection,” Astarion says, ringing his hands together, trying to look less fidgety, but the more he watches you, the more he understands the more this warmth spreads up his neck, this strange flush in his chest. It feels as if by some strange miracle of existence, his heart is trying to beat.

“But I am telling you,” you insist, “you do not need to do that for me, I am here, I will stand by you Astarion, hells or high waters, so you don’t need to pretend, you don’t need to do something because you think it is what I would want from you.”

“I am not pretending,” he says, a little more honest than he expected from his own mouth. “My attraction to you is genuine, my connection with you is…” he pauses, unable to find a way to make it make sense, “confusing. But I am not pretending.”

“You were pretending, you were manipulating me,” you point out.

“And you were letting me,” he says. You shrug.

“I am not stupid enough to imagine I was more than useful Astarion, which is why I want to continue being useful, we can have each others backs, and no one is left without someone in their corner, but you do not need to try and… you don’t need to make yourself uncomfortable on my behalf.”

Never in his life has Astarion wished he could hold someone without that feeling of disgust and guilt, never has he wanted to kiss someone more than in this moment. But he knows what follows, he knows how Cazador has seeped into everything, and tainted it all. Ruined it all. He doesn’t even know where to begin to undo that damage, he doesn’t know if there is a way to undo that damage. But never has he wanted more to try. He looks at you now, and he wants to kiss you, to kiss you without it being this strange twisted regret that it always becomes. He want to be real, he wants to kiss you and mean it, and let it be only what it is and not a reminder of everything that has happened to him. But he doesn’t know how to do that.

“I do care about you, you know, and I wish, I wish I knew how to be different,” he says, “but I haven’t had the time to figure that out.”

You shrug. “You’ve got all the time in the world to figure out whatever you need to figure out for yourself Astarion, and I am doing everything I can to keep that true, so we need to keep moving, and get these nasty little fuckers out of our heads, and separate Cazador from his, and everything else, we can figure out after.”

“You truly do just want to help me, don’t you?” he asks. True, selfless love, that wanting for another person, not for what it mean to you, but just so they can get what they deserve and be happy. If he asked you to stay, you would, you would drop everything to stay, and if he asked you to go, you would do the same, because you only want what is best for him. Astarion has never known a feeling like that, and he is chasing it, clawing at it, trying with both hands to get a good grip so it doesn’t slip through his fingers and run out of his grasp. He doesn’t think he could find this again, he doesn’t think he would want to. He just knowns he can’t lose this, this feeling like a beating heart in his chest when he looks at you.

“I do,” you say. “So, are we going to do this?”

“I think so Sunshine,” he says, letting that smile return, even if it is just to disguise this nervousness that is pounding at his skull.

“Okay good, then take what you need and we can get on with things,” you say, pulling your collar aside so he has best access to your neck. He looks at you and lets his eyes wander to the slope of your neck, he places a hand on your side pulling you closer and you let yourself be calm, let him do this. He leans down for the bite, lips pressed against the pulse point, and you wait for the soft pain, the dizzying feeling, but it doesn’t come. His lips brush soft and cold against that pulsation and then they pull away, leaving you with nothing but a ghost of a kiss where teeth marks should be.

“You’re worth more than that to me Sunshine,” he whispers, close enough to your ear that you can feel his words against your neck. “So much more,” and he pulls away, not giving as much as a glance as he walks back towards the others, leaving you puzzled with your heart thundering in your chest.

“Oh Star,” you whisper, to the wind more than to anything or anyone. “You are never going to be able to be unloved by me.”

[unlocked-doors-verse]

Mystery Kids AU: New Changes

Ho boy, somehow I've fallen back into Coraline since the local movie theater decided to premier it again - hence why I decided to talk about my Mystery Kids AU and the updated lore changes because well, I want to be a menace today.

So, to recap from old posts - the chosen fandoms are Danny Phantom, Coraline, Paranorman, and Gravity Falls. All of these do take place post-canon, although Phantom Planet is retconned because- no. For the record, I don't necessarily hate it but it's not really important to my plot.

I'm going to break this down into different sections, so! Let's get started, shall we?

The plot begins with Dipper and Mabel returning to Gravity Falls, Oregon, for the summer and due to a camp program happening - well, it leads to the others becoming part of said camp, arriving to the sleepy town where shenanigans ensue. Dipper and Mabel are both nearly sixteen now, as of course - their birthday is near the end of summer break. Things start off as very typical to the weirdness that is Gravity Falls, and introducing the characters to one another. Though about halfway through, when the main storyline picks up, we're also given a glimpse of the main villains... who I unfortunately cannot mention right now because that would defeat the purpose.

I do intend for the series to be a lot darker than the original movies and/or tv shows because that does defeat the purpose, so this is your fair warning of what to expect for the Mystery Kids/Unlocked Doors verse. I am hoping to transform it into a proper series, exploring the Main Bad Guys across the four franchises but we'll see what happens with the first installation!

(Under-the-Cut Information)

Character Introductions

Dipper Pines: 15-16 years old. After the defeat of Bill Cipher, Dipper and his twin sister Mabel returned home to Piedmont, California. His intrigue and fascination with the weirdness and abnormal continued to get stronger - in light of what went down during the events of Weirdmaggedon, Dipper follows in Grunkle Ford's footsteps. He's fallen out of the preteen anxiety he had in his preteen years, even if it does little to help his own paranoia of the return of Bill Cipher. Dipper began keeping his own journals, adding onto them and hoping to one day become a paranormal researcher.

Mabel Pines: 15-16 years old. Mabel Pines is the twin sister to Dipper. Unlike her brother, Mabel is known for her artistic and creative side - she dreams of the day she can make it big as an artist, or even simply becoming a teacher. She's not picky to be honest! Mabel's hyperactive, cheerful personality continues to shine even now; though she still has dreams of what happened during Weirdmaggedon. Even then, she's just looking to have a great time in Gravity Falls, not having the slightest clue of what awaits her and her friends.

Norman Babcock: 14 years old. Norman is a bit younger than Dipper and Mabel, simply due to his birthdate, but even then - he's matured quite a bit since the events that went down in his hometown of Blithe Hollow, Massachusetts. Norman can still come off as a little awkward around new people, but he does have a good heart and does his best to help wherever he can. He has fully embraced his ability to see ghosts and helps them cross over.

Danny Phantom: 16 years old. Danny is the eldest out of the kids. Following the defeat of Pariah Dark and a few other select baddies, things slowly returned back to normal - Amity Park became a little more accepting and Danny's role as protector flared even more, but of course... there are still other threats brewing under the surface though I'm sure they won't be much of an issue for Phantom.

Coraline Jones: 15 years old. Coraline's life slowly settled after the incident and became closer with Wybie Lovat. She has hoped to forget about what happened, attempting to bury it down (and no one would blame her, it was quite the traumatizing experience-) but an unexpected summer camp program to Gravity Falls, Oregon is about to change everything in ways she didn't expect. She's got a spunk to her now - still just as sassy as she was in her younger years.

Wyborne "Wybie" Lovat: 15 years old. Wybie is Coraline's best friend now; the two became practically inseparable after what happened in the Pink Palace - though more specifically, the wall. He still doesn't know what to make of it, but he isn't nearly as spooked by all of it as Coraline. Wybie continues to be kooky and eccentric and might just be having a tiny puppy crush on Coraline, though he's never going to admit it. Who knows what might come of their summer camp in Gravity Falls?

Other characters will be in this, of course but they're not nearly as important as the ones I already listed - or who knows, maybe I have plans I can't share just yet ;))

Lore Infodumping

Ho boy, I can only share so much because weeelll - I will not be able to share spoilers, but here goes nothing.

Gravity Falls, Oregon, and other likeminded towns became natural hotspots for weirdness once the barrier was broken - of course, this is canon but people just sort of accepted this as part of the everyday normal. With cities like Amity Park however, and the fact Danny is in fact a superhero, this becomes a different can of worms. Much like one of my other projects, it isn't out of the ordinary for the hotspot towns and even 'hero cities' to keep to themselves though it remains unclear why.

Gravity Falls became a very popular tourist spot, eventually creating the summer camp program. Though no one talks about Weirdmaggedon, preferring to keep it that way in the hopes of warding off bad energy and superstitions associated with it. The Pines are still an oddity amongst the residents, but they came to be respected - especially now with how they managed to stop Bill Cipher. Ford continued recording information about his adventures in new journals, using it as a pastime now more than his job. Stan and him return home during the summers to spend time with their great niece and nephew.

I genuinely don't have much to say about the Pink Palace or Blithe Hollow since things just sort of went back to normal. As for Amity Park, it's a bit different as it became liminal and just has more ghost activity; like I mentioned earlier - Phantom Planet has yet to happen, or won't happen, I don't know which. It turned into a hotspot of its own and the citizens have been marked by ghostly activity (not that they have powers-). Anyway,

Earth as a whole has changed a lot and who knows what come next?

I'm going to be changing the blog url into unlocked-doors-verse since Secret Origins is now separate from this! You are more than welcome to send me asks and/or interact with the blog, and I will be providing headcanons and more information in a following post! Obviously I can't share many spoilers though there's going to be a lot more for this universe. As of right now, this is not a character blog - it's more for the AU itself, BUT you can ask me information about the characters and how everything works.

Until next time, my lovely readers!

[stgroversfire]

long rant about yu furen

i haven't been able to put into words how i feel about her character so here's a long ass high ass rant

i think the reason i love yu furen/jiang cheng/jing ling so much is that i can see their insecurities and the complexes they developed and think yea, that would probably fuck me up too. but the younger each of them are, the more room for growth they have- yu furen is detested in fandom because she did objectively horrible things. she had gut wrenching circumstances that led to it, and ultimately (and <i>maybe</i> arguably) was never able to make the morally correct choice from it. jiang cheng is younger, he is filled with anger and hate, but he still has room to come back from it. he's on the cusp of being unforgivable, almost evil, but the story leaves a bit of hope for him to come back from it. (i am a yunmeng bros conciliation superfan). jin ling is objectively the most lovable, because he had awful circumstances, has taken on the personality of the uncle that raised him, and is so, so angry. but he's young enough that he hasn't harmed anyone or done things that cant be forgiven

like do not get me wrong. to me, yu furen is a bad person. when she made wei ying believe his life was worth less, when she blamed him for the destruction of lotus pier, when she whipped him, that solidly put her in shitty person territory.

but at the same time. i see her trying to protect her family. i see her watching her husband dote on the son of a woman he loved, neglecting their own children because they reminded him of her. that is a pain I cannot fathom. i truly hate jiang fengmian for how he treated jiang cheng and jiang yanli. i see yu furen doing everything for her children only for wei ying to take the spotlight and (inadvertently) cause trouble for the whole clan.

and while i think the actions she takes are wrong because of it, her character is one i can at the very least respect. she decided to slap the shit out of wang lingjiao at the suggestion of permanently disabling wei ying (which i can't say for sure wasn't entirely a product of her pride/thinking he had use for jiang cheng, but i want to read it as at least having the slightest care for a child she watched grow up, detested though he was).

when she tells wei ying to protect jiang cheng with his life... she obviously would not bat an eye if wei ying died a gruesome death, but at the very least, i don't think she <i>wanted</i> him to die, so much as get the hell away from her husband who doesn't love her and her kids that will never measure up in jiang fengmian's eyes. (wei ying leaving would never fix this, but i don't think she was raised to think about emotions like that.) she still saves wei ying along with jiang cheng, and even if it was more for jiang cheng's benefit, i can at least say that she didn't hold such hatred in her heart that she truly attempted to cause his death.

which. yes. low fucking bar. but i see a complexity to her character that entices me more any other character (except maybe nie huaisang, the motherfucker.)

i was gonna also talk about jiang cheng and jin ling but i think ill save it for another day

[zeglyths]

what are your thoughts about daphne sa’ing simon?

hi anon! i am not a victim, and my interpretation of the scene may be different. that is a very open discussion and i do not believe that a single opinion is right. if anyone is offended with what i have to say, they are more than welcome to share their own thoughts.

book

what i said above only applies to the show. there cannot be any other interpretation for the book other than what it is: rape.

let's add the setting for the book: daphne and simon were just going to sleep when she suddenly wonders why he tries to keep her as far as possible from his release. she asks him why can't he have kids and it that was his seed. the fight about the vow unfolds and so far daphne is in the right.

simon knows that, but is hate for his father is too strong, understandably so. two days later, he gets so drunk he cannot even stand or think properly. daphne allows him to sleep in her bed.

and somehow, that twisted bitch thinks that "she can have anything she wants." LINE TAKEN FROM THE BOOK.

she unbuttons his breeches and strokes him, while he is DRUNK AND SLEEPING. he is horny and drunk, not in the right sense of mind. he never even gave her explicit consent, even when 'encouraging' her. (he later blames himself for this)

she seduces and rides him, and she forces in to come inside of her even though she knew about his vow and was sure of what his seed would do. (this is very different from how the show portrayed it and i'll explain that later)

the way it unfolds after is heartbreaking. simon feels betrayed and hurt, not comfortable with her touching him anymore, so much that he genuinely begins to stutter again. he leaves the estate, and she cries because she did not actually think that he would leave her, and even openly admits that she is not ashamed and thought she was in the right, she takes residence in hastings house in london for the next 2 months that they are apart, and never mentions why they separated to her concerned family, which caused them to grow some kind of hatred towards him. anthony was in charge of delivering the letter that informed him that she missed her courses (which was a false alarm) and threatens simon. simon blames himself for encouraging her seduction (he was drunk) and goes to london because of the child. there, they reconcile and the first thing daphne does after telling him that she is not pregnant is ask if he left her because she forced herself on him. he says no, and says he left because she made him so vulnerable he began stuttering again. which is literally the same thing: she violated him, and he was so hurt he began to stutter.

after a comedic relief scene with the bridgertons, when they have sex again, daphne says that she doesn't want children if he doesn't (after all that) and would like some time for themselves, but he still says that he does and all in all, they get a happily ever after.

i'd also like to mention that simon wasn't exactly the ideal man either. he constantly viewed daphne as an object and projected all his sexual desires (unhealthily) on her. he was verbally abusive up with her up to the point of #that scene (yes, he was also abusive when he was drunk)

this was utterly disgusting for me to read. i could barely get through the pages. these are situations that real-life people go through, that should not be painted in a good light or be promoted as romance.

show

the show's scene is different. simon and daphne have their fight about the vow after she forced herself. she did not know what his 'seed' would do.

yes, she did ask her maid that night, but take it this way: her mother did not give her the slightest of information on how to make child. she told her that simon would know, and daphne fully trusted both simon and her mother as well. she was exploring her sexual side when she noticed him not releasing inside of her. she did not know what that meant. he did. he took advantage of her naïveté.

when she asked her maid, it was difficult for her to believe that he would lie to her. she trusted him the most with her body. he was the only man that had touched her that far. she did not want for him to have lied to her. she could not even think of the slightest reason why he would not want to have children. if she confronted him directly, he would have made up another lie to cover for it.

it was a simple situation: she would force him to come inside of her, and if he was upset then he had lied. yes, he told her to wait, yes, she did not stop, and yes, that bordered sexual assault.

"oh but you wouldn't say that if a man did that to a woman." actually, the situation cannot happen with gender reversed.

this takes place in 1813. society tried their utter best to keep women as innocent as a child, and fresh for her husband. the man, however, was free to do whatever he wanted. simon especially, was a whore.

he knew explicitly how to make children, while daphne only had the idea of some kind of marital act they had to perform that would eventually end up in child.

they both were in the wrong, maybe daphne moreso than simon. and that’s honestly all i think.

[hosannan]

It’s still so surreal, seeing her larger green eyes look up at her at the slightest of shorter angles. Looking at her lighter gold hair flows out of her head in a different yet synonymous way. Hearing her youthful, songlike voice that reminds her of a younger princess of Nordion days before.

To be quite honest, Lachesis is afraid to hear that voice from this young woman again.

But she must do this. The lady is one of her students after all, as well as - though Lachesis still finds herself in the occasional disbelief - her daughter. A mother who sends her children out for battle without as much of a “good luck” is no better than a sea turtle throwing their eggs to the seagulls. She will not allow it.

“Nanna. My…daughter,” the mother leaps between the two titles. Which one evokes the more positive expression on her child’s face? She cannot tell. “I do not believe we will be assigned together this round of combat.”

Neither of them have the Earth Sword attached to their hip, as per the rules stated. Despite this being a mock battle, with no chance of death, lacking her lord brother’s heirloom that wards the Nordion princesses from harm does not bode well for Lachesis.

She wishes she could be bolder. To cup the child’s face in both her gloved hands, and plant a kiss atop her head for a blessing of fortune. But…no. Lachesis does not deserve such a fairy tale relationship. She knows this.

So her hands instead cup at Nanna’s right hand, holding her bloodline’s hand tightly. “Promise to not do anything rash this coming battle. So we can see each other when the whistle blows again, outside of the tents.

“I…wish you luck.”

There was a sleepless element to the way you loved someone, especially when they were more further gone than there. Nanna knew she grew up more on the idea of Her than an actual, tangible figure, but she proved herself keen on folly long after that warmth was lost. She would close her eyes, having sat up too quickly, and count the stars on the back of her eyelids, hoping her mother would do the same. (Where ever she was.) There was an element of love in pretending that this was still real—as she imagined those arms were still strewn around the soft arch of a little girl left to grow flowers out of her ribcage. Oh, how she could pretend.

She was as young as she was beautiful, this sleepless kind of dream that was her mother. Nanna still cannot believe it until this day, that Mother would return to her with a peace of mind and the semblance of someone who had not aged a day since she had left. What exactly was this then? Why was life so kind in cruel ways? Still, her heart could take to pretending until all that was cruel was conquered by love—her life was meant for more than this.

The hard clicks of her heels against rubble and topsoil began to match her own heartbeat, as both stirred in her eardrums on a will of their own. Nanna’s calloused hands met the gloved shape of another, and in a silent prayer, she blamed the gloves for having not recognized the warmth behind them. “I’ve been looking all over for you…” Her voice was fierce for only a moment, having stated the truth and nothing but the truth, but it gave way to something raw, something vulnerable that she could not hold back. Her eyes crinkled in sadness, in joy, piercing the sky in a way the sun would.

"I know, Mother. I am unsure if we will be matched together, but I would have really liked to have been."

As she finally met the woman’s eyes, she felt a rose spread from her chest. And she plucked it, as it peeked from her ribcage.

"I…"

With emerald eyes and love for days, Nanna is glad to hold out her roses for a woman whose lips she could feel on her skin, and whose words she could feel in her heart. Still, however, this mother of hers that had long become an ideal, softened her in ways familiar.

"Well, I promise I shall not be rash. But know this, I have become quite capable following in your wings. You are and always have been, a prime example of who I have hoped to live up to."

Her chin raised, no longer to the idea of Her, but to the tangible truth in heels. Her brows bent boldly, a confession of resolve moonlighting after the sun had come out.

"I will make you proud, Mother…"

And she laughed, breaking the spell, an affection in bells to last throughout the day.

"And if you shall have it, take my luck too…! Haha!"

[justcreatingthings]

I finally fished that test short fic that I got the idea for after making this art. Let me know if these grammatical error or what I can improve on when writing the characters! Haven’t written in ages… Anyways,

✨ENJOY!✨

*drops this at y’all’s feet and skitters off*

Cuddles and Worries

In a well known manor, chatting and laughter can be heard from behind a set of giant white doors. Those doors lead into a room that might be considered “living-quarters” to some, but the being who resides in this room is not exactly part of the “living” realm… He just tends to rest here most times when he desires privacy from prying eyes! Specifically his fans that know nothing about personal space! Though, as of late, this room has occasionally also been shared with someone else…

“-and that tree had a wasp nest living in it even though no one has ever seen a wasp anywhere near that area! Oh, how horrific it was to witness her swell… ‘Twere as if her head became that of a…ginormous, maggot infested tomato! Turned out that the poor lady was terribly allergic!!”, ranted a hunchbacked Rabbid named T.S Woodrow. He is currently wearing a matching pajama set with a nightcap on his head.

“Oh mon Dieu, ça épouvantable! Did any of those horrid creatures decide to instead go after you?!”, exclaims Phantom, a rotund ghost rabbid laying underneath Woodrow, with concern written all over this face. Woodrow finds Phantom’s ghost half to be softer than a giant cloud so he chooses to lay upon it when they cuddle, just like how they are right now. Phantom is laying with his back on the bed, and Woodrow’s belly touching his own. They have taken this cuddle position so often that Phantom has even joked about how he’s now become Woodrow’s personal bed! Woodrow continues his tale of the day as he kicks one of his hind paws in the air as if he were a school girl talking on the phone with a close friend.

“They did not, for the wasps seemed dedicated to stinging every last inch of her! She was quickly taken into urgent care, but only once the wasps had worn themselves out. At that point, the bugs stayed down upon the ground and did not move even an inch more! The little bugs had worn themselves out in their rage… Luckily the lady lived in the end, but now she refuses to go near any trees on the off chance it might happen again. I, of course, do not blame her in the slightest.”

“I am very glad no harm came to you directly after you recited that poem, but I hope you do try to be safer in the future… I trust you will, but you know I worry about your safety when I cannot be at your side at all times outside this home…”

“We have spoken on this a multitude of times, and I promised to you that I would stay safe. I survived on my own with this curse in the past, and I shall continue to do so in the present and future. Just look around at the destruction surrounding us! Even now, as I’ve spoken to you a myriad of poems during this conversation, neither of us have been harmed nor injured!,” Woodrow exclaims as he directs Phantom to look upon the room and take in the disrepair it is in. There are shards of broken glass laying upon the ground from fallen vases and picture frames, and there seems to be water leaking out from underneath the bathroom door. Woodrow feels a hand touch his cheek and he lets it gently move his face to once again stare back at Phantom, whom only looks back with pure love and adoration.

“Mon poète bien-aimé… I promise I was not speaking of the beautiful chaos cause by your hypnotic poems… I am just worried some ruffian will try to harm you do to your affiliation with me. You have only been here for all but a week, and I know in the past you rarely left Palette Prime… I have a very long list of people whom always try to knock me down a peg or two every day, even if it’s at the cost of someone else’s safety’ …I just want you to put your safety first and foremost when you leave without me… Without you, my life would still be lost in a cycle of loneliness!”

Phantom smiles slightly and his thumb rubs against Woodrow’s cheek in a soothing manor. Woodrow leans into the soft touch and smiles back at him before replying.

“ You really are an Angel, Phantom… I promise I shall be safer when I go out alone. I shall be aware of my own surrounding at every turn. If I must do something to help you worry less, I would not be supposed to a costume of sorts..?”

“Oh, c'est une MERVEILLEUSE idée, mon amour! We can turn it anti a makeover of sorts tomorrow! I’ve always wanted to see you in a suit~ Of course, I’ll let you give me a makeover of sorts as well! Only fair that both of us get to pick out the other’s wardrobe rather than just one of us!” Phantom looks at Woodrow with excitement over the fashion possibilities and he can better understand Woodrow’s chosen sense of fashion.

Both of them share a little laugh, and then continue to cuddle and talk late into the night about different topics. Eventually Woodrow passes out and Phantom holds him close to him, being careful not to jostle him too much. Once settled, Phantom closes his eyes do the ghost equivocal to sleeping, closing his eyes and day dreaming about what tomorrow holds. Anything is possible so long as he has his lover right by his side, and the same vise versa.