#i like to hc that blaze gets cold easily

[blueeblurb]

been getting cold lately

[sonic-4-episode-ii]

heres a "quick" list of some hcs regarding physical disabilities, mental illnesses & other stuff that can impair function or is "odd" physically but i dont know the proper term for

might update this every once in a while but for now thats it

spoiler alert: its all chronic pain!

Sonic

Fibromyalgia, big-time. Uses massively thick socks to stop his feet from hurting too much while running.

DID, which starting developing when he was like....4. now that he's (mostly) gotten over his "just push everything down" era, inter-system communications are pretty strong, and he's friends w/ a lot of his headmates

doesnt have the best eyesight (in fact its p awful) but hes convinced he can still see well enough so he refuses to wear his glasses. WILL NOT wear contacts

has NPD

autistic. contrary to popular believe, he doesnt have ADHD

schizophrenia. idk which type or whatever. hes got the hallucinations.

has auditory and visual (???) synthesia which caused him to. make the sonic CD us sountrack. yeah

Tails

HoH, but doesn't like using hearing aids. A bad habit inspired by Sonic's refusal to wear his own glasses

OCD, huge-time. his paranoia can get so bad sometimes that he doesn't even trust Sonic. doing much better in that regard nowadays, though.

tic disorder, hits themself or has their neck turn the other way violently (hurts!!!!!!)

so obviously autistic they get a little embarrassed abt it sometimes

c-ptsd haver

Knuckles

Undiagnosed chronic pain, has no idea what's causing it. Fully believed it was emerald stealing karma for YEARS.

gets weird pinched nerves alot because of some of his old scars being close to nerve endings. ow

has bad eyesight but genuinely didnt realize for years

has a sort of? processing disorder thing? i dont actually know what it is. when you try to talk but actual gibberish comes out n you cant think. someone else had the same hc but i forgot what they called it. but he has that

does actually have a lot of trauma due to being alone for most of his life and being raised by nothing but a rock and maaaaybe some birds. crazy ik

Amy

Horrible, awful eyesight. worst perscription out of ALL of her friends

Hypermobile joints, which is part of why she has such a horrible posture (along w her dysphoria).

abandonment issues due to. yk. being abandoned by her parents, which ends up leading into her getting unhealthily attached to anyone who gives her the time of day (and she arbitrarily decides is totally the one for her)

Shadow

PTSD (canon)

mobility issues (canon)

NPD + maybe borderline...?

Rouge

pretty much 100% deaf, uses hearing aids.

has some kinda smt going on because of the way she grew up but fuck if anyone knows what it actually is.

Blaze

Had anorexia for years, which has caused a lot of muscle weakness. Now that she's in recovering, things are a lot better, but she still uses a cane most of the time.

has depression, anxiety and self-worth issues due to being bullied as a child. not just for her flame powers

double anxiety bc of people trying to take her shit

Silver

similar to Blaze, weak thanks to a really bad diet as a kid.

due to genetic mutations caused by radiation, contamination of drinking water & food, and extreme changes in the environment, silver has four arms

also a really weird immune system that flip-flops from being disturbingly strong to scarily weak (can eat actual trash somehow but a cold puts him out of the running for weeks)

anxiety + separation issues. tries to be stoic abt it tho

has dyscalculia And dyslexia, struggles with understanding english especially

Vanilla

chronic exhaustion + fibromyalgia from a young age. sort of worried cream will end up having it too

Cream

weak immune system due to lots of childhood illness. might not be able to be vaxxed bc of it

gets ear infections really easily, made significantly worse w all the dirt she kicks up from flying with her ears

unspecified panic disorder due to trauma. tries to stay brave

Charmy / charmie / charmee

constantly low blood sugar due to weird bee stuff + inconsistent diet as a kid

he thinks hes funny :/

might have autism and/or adhd

Espio

undiagnosed mobility issues. can climb fine, but has trouble walking and cant run. uses a cane

anxiety he refuses to talk abt to anyone except the other chaotix and, very rarely, silper

Vector

self-inflicted hearing loss. went to too many concerts

developed anxiety after taking care of charmy and espio for so long. thanks kids

Sticks

OCD. tends to unintentionally encourage tails's delusions. currently getting experimental therapy thats working rlly well

somehow has almost every possible vitamin deficiency

Eggman

tics similar to sonic and tails's

OSDD

NPD

Neo Metal Sonic

transfeminine metal sonic from the main au

chronic headaches after episode metal

joints tend to seize up when chilly for too long. although shes immune to water, its worse when shes cold

tics due to system errors / bugs she and tails cant fix. she doesnt actually mind them since it makes her feel more connected to her bros :]

memory problems also after episode metal

due to her memory problems she has to memorize stuff by repeatedly being given info and it takes way longer for her to learn things compared to other computers so i think she has a learning disability? bc of that?

has weird backwards sensory issues. lack of harsh lighting or metallic noises unsettles and can overwhelm her

might have NPD

has delusions. getting better at recognizing them, which helps her help tails more

Hyper Metal Sonic

second, transmasculine metal sonic from a spinoff au

self-induced chronic pain (wtf bro)

joints also seize up when cold

Sage

doesnt feel much physically, which leads to her getting bad injuries she barely recognizes for ages

autism beast

Scourge

popcorn lung due to smoking several packs of cigarettes daily so his voice sounds more gruff

everything sonic has also

[found-wings]

I LOVE THE PHOENIX PHIL HEADCANON OMG here's some misc hcs with them :D

• foolish was 100% the first person to try to touch them and kept going "ow. ow. ow." because he'd get burned, then immediately put his hands back on the wings

• phil tries to stop him and tinas like "no- let him finish" (he's trying to 'build an immunity)

• roier uses the wings as a way to heat up a knife and do stupid bs with it such as; slamming it against a tree and starting a forest fire, cutting various items in half and they either crumble or burn, or on fed workers (it just makes them mildly uncomfortable)

• on the same topic, when phils napping by fits place, ramon uses the wings to heat up scrap metal he has to try to wield them together.

• dapper also uses them sometimes as a portable heater for potions and uses tongs to hold them above the wings if they need to get to a certain boiling point (bbh is like 'I tried to get him to stop' when phil asks about it. but man's is a liar LMAO he encourages it)

• chayanne sometimes asks him to use em to start fired under his portable grills and pots if he can't find his flint and steel

• on the other side, tallulah def roasts marshmallows on them

• fit has definitely gone "yknow let me just borrow these for a sec-" and holds either dynamite, fireworks, or bombs ends on them to light em off

• etoiles has 100% had many. Many. sticks set on fire and burned durring stick fights and even if phil apologizes for accidentally doing that and you just hear "okay so we're playing that way" and he brings out the flame-enchanted code sword as a joke before they reset the fight 😭😭

• "the burn- he's just too good!"

• "that was literally an accident!!!!"

• "see? you doesn't even need to try!!"

• "oh my godddd."

• if phil does something to make richas mad, he'll purposfully walk into the wings flames and go to his dad's yelling about how phil set him on fire (he's done this too many times for them to give phil anything more then a slap on the wrist)

• he's lit off more then a couple lanterns and candles for cellbit when the two meet up in the order to share information (and more then a few books have scorch marks on them . . . it's very easy to tell which books have been donated by him.)

• more then once phil has been sentenced to laying underneath one of tubbos machines with his wings being used in place of a temporary blaze-burner (fit is very much laughing at him and being told to stfu by tubbo in fear of phil leaving)

• pac and mike are very quick to remove flowing water from their builds and keep them contained to pools and waterfalls that are easily visible

• more then once quackitys beanie or sleeve has caught fire and you can hear him swearing from miles away when it does

• sunbirds tend to surround him a little more then usual when the wings are out, so 100% foolish has asked the capybaras to warp phil to him to attract a sunbird real quick and phil agrees if he has perms to name it (it will be named something stupid.)

• it's not uncommon for the eggs to surround him more on group trips and events whenever they go by somewhere cold as he's basically a walking heater (que the jokes about them liking phil more- when really he's just making sure they don't get frostbite 😭)

• ,,,,,, more then once hes been put through pain when a spontaneous code fight appears and he's had to run for shelter as its common for rain to pour when the day quickly shifts to night and damage his wings (another incentive for etoiles to finish fighting as quickly as possible)

- 💿

MANY SILLIES, RAAAH

Oh my god I love all of these silly headcanons SO MUCH RAAAH, especially the ones involving Phil and the Eggs, Fit, Tubbo, Etoiles and Cellbit because I am so biased

Also on the topic of rain and code fights - I am so. silly about it because I imagine Phil only runs for shelter when he‘s 100% certain the others can handle it. Every other time, especially during the times he had to fight off the code by himself, he pushes through the constant pain on his feathers while engaging in combat

On another side note, all I can imagine whenever someone pulls out a flame enchanted weapon is Phils eyes just instantly going O^O when he sees it and he just. stares. with big eyes & puffed up wings as if he’s about to attack the weapon before snapping back to the current. He‘s offended and sees flame enchanted weapons as a threat to his very being / j

[llamagoddessofficial]

Still thinking about those Inmate Copper hcs you shared,,,,, gods, so good. Having to be so patient because he scared her so bad with that grab- it was terrible, but also I can’t imagine how much feeling her warmth, the physical *reality* of her would mean. Of course he’s willing to wait now, hand out, lesson learned, but he just… can’t give up the eventual chance to feel her touch again. And MC returning even still, not quite daring to touch, but also unwilling to let him go back to rotting… still talking, sharing stories or thoughts or anything at all- almost therapy, in a way, she’d certainly never be talked over. Or grabbed, unless she gets close again. Maybe she doesn’t risk that, still, not for a long time- but one day in a little corner of the fenced yard, she found nothing so fancy as a flower, but a simple little clover. Without thinking she tucked it away, and when she next visits Copper… she gives it to him. Safely, carefully, but here’s a little proof of the world outside his walls, besides her. A little something green, and harmless, but kind. Perhaps cruel, too, but isn’t it crueler to have spent years, decades without even seeing a single hint of the plant life of the surface world? Perhaps it’s just another little nudge in the right direction for him… (it’s her, she’s the direction)

"Hey, big guy. How’re you feeling?"

No response. But then again, you weren’t expecting one. 

You steadied yourself, slowly, in front of the massive metal door that was easily twice your height. Its sickly green and rust stained paint was peeling off it in huge flakes- dirty, neglected, forgotten, just like the rest of that wing of the prison.

Just like the monster trapped inside.

The door looked utterly impenetrable, it had probably stood there loyally for several decades, you couldn’t comprehend what the other side of it looked like. It had only two gaps, two windows to the outside; a little viewing hole near your eye level, about the size of a palm, and a food slot just below it that would allow staff to give the monster his meals without ever getting within rage.

... You saw a familiar shade of deep, glowing red appear behind the viewing hole, staring unblinkingly at you. You knew that red very well by now... it was him. His eye- always watching you. It was the most you’d ever seen of his face.

“I can’t hang around too long today. There was a fight in the mess hall, so they’re sending us all to bed early.”

The food slot, situated just below the eye hole, rattled open- the sound made you jump. He’d probably dented it enough to pull it open himself from the inside.

... His hand emerged. Big enough to grab your head like an orange and squeeze it until it burst, it could only fit through the food slot up to his wrist before it lodged. Dirty bones, phalanges with hooked claws, his palm alone was bigger than your whole hand- upturned, open.

Entreating.

“... No bread rolls today.” You said, softly, looking back up at his eye again. “I’m sorry. I grabbed an extra but someone stole it.” 

...

His hand didn’t move.

You remembered the immense pressure closing over your entire lower arm. The food you’d been passing him falling onto the floor, unheeded, as panic seized your entire body. His bones were cold. Your scream lodged in your throat, you wanted to cry for help but you were terrified that a loud noise would agitate him... that he would potentially rip your arm out of its socket if he startled.

“There’s really no bread.” You stammered. “I-I’m sorry. I’ll have some tomorrow.”

...

His hand still didn’t move. It stayed there, palm upturned, open, hopeful.

“I-it’s okay, it’s okay.” You said, voice whispery, totally constricted with fear. Even so, you gently ran your other hand over his knuckles... you forced yourself to look at his blazing red eye, and to breathe. “I know you’re upset. I can go get you some more food? Just... you gotta let me go. Okay?”

“... I have a snackbar? Do you like those? I... here, I’ll open it for you.” You took the bar you’d been saving out of your pocket, removing the plastic wrapping with shaking hands and offering it, stragtegically holding the bar at the very bottom and holding it out so that he’d be able to snag it if he curled his phalanges, but your appendage would always remain out of his reach.

... He didn’t move. He didn’t take the food. In fact, after a few moments, he seemed to strain to try and push his hand further out- you pulled back, starting to get nervous.

His grip was shackle-like. You couldn’t imagine the power contained within that massive body of his, you could feel the tension in his knuckles, but it was obvious to you that this wasn’t even a fraction of his strength. If he even slightly squeezed, the bones in your arm would shatter. You were starting to run out of ideas, mindlessly petting his hand and trying to think what the likelihood of anyone coming to save you was.

... You sat down. He stopped straining, but he still kept his hand out. He still kept staring. He was still, after all this time, totally silent.

“... Did I ever tell you about the time I fell asleep into my art project?”

...

His hand visibly relaxed. This was it, his favourite thing- the only thing that seemed to calm him down.

You waded into your story, sparing no details. It was always therapeutic to speak to him... you knew he was intently listening.

... 

You were scared of him, yes. Terrified. But you weren’t going to leave him on his own, to rot in this little abandoned corner of the prison. Nobody deserved decades of unbroken solitude, no one. Your own words from yesterday were still thrumming through your head- the promise you made in that terrified, panicked state, that had seemed to finally convince him to let you go.

...

“I promise I’ll come back, Copper. Every day, okay? I promise.”

[luvyanfei]

anon said. how about fluffy hcs with xiao, zhongli and xingqui taking their s/o out on a first date?

XIAO.

he already finds it difficult just to ask you to hold him without losing his cool, so how can he possibly bring up the idea of inviting you on a date? actually, he probably never knew the word ‘date’ even existed until he heard a passing couple staying over at wangshu inn dreamily talking about how they wish they could go to see the lantern rite festival in liyue harbor together for their first date. a first date, huh? now that he thinks about it, xiao never did properly try to court you, did he? it was always you who approached him first, who held your hand out to him, who confessed that you love him. you’re already giving so much dedication in this relationship. it’s the least he can do to return your affections, not just because he’s feeling a bit indebted, but because he’s your lover. unfortunately, being the awkward yaksha that he is, xiao overthinks the situation and complicates it more than he should.

every chance he gets is blown up by his anxiousness. whenever you come and visit him at the inn, you almost think that he’s angry with you from the way he throws you vicious glares. unbeknownst to you, xiao is actually making that tense face because he’s trying very hard, too hard in fact, to think of the best way to ask you out on a date and seeing you just makes him all the more nervous. he regrets it every time you step into the elevator while giving him a goodbye wave and saying you’ll come visit again. sure, he gets another chance to try and ask you out again, but he also has another chance to fail as well.

when you visit him for lunch, xiao quickly rehearses the words he wants to say to you in the back of his head before coming to greet you. ‘i overheard from a guest in the inn talking about a lantern rite festival. if you mortal, no, [name], desires to go, i can possibly set aside time to accompany you.’ keep it cool, yet short. taking a deep breath to compose himself, xiao walks over to greet you, er, well actually, you’re the one doing the greeting instead, and you settle down to eat. the sweet taste of the almond tofu that you generously bought for him blossoms in his mouth and he loses track of time till your departure. before you leave once more to allow the poor yaksha to wallow in his self-regret again, you stop yourself and turn around to face xiao. tucking your hair behind your ear and giving your best, most radiant smile you can offer to him, you shyly ask if he’d like to tag along with you to the lantern rite festival. “we’ve never been on a date before and i’d love to go to the festival with you and release xiao lanterns together.”

... what? how? his mouth almost opens up in disbelief, as he struggles to keep a stoic expression. ex-excuse him?! that’s supposed to be his line! he’s in shock at how easily you were able to say something that he’s been having trouble sputtering out. you mortals never fail to surprise him. he shakes his head and bitterly scowls, that you almost step back in fright. almost, until he starts speaking, that is. “why is it you? i should have been the one to ask you on a date first, not you!” he’s almost on the brink of tears from the frustration he currently holds on himself. 

a relationship is always about give and take, no? it’s like when zhongli has so kindly decided to save him from the clutches of the cruel abuse he endured endlessly, of course he was forever in debt to rex lapis. surely, it’s the same with you, isn’t it? when xiao tells you this, you immediately start laughing. you calmly explain to him that your relationship isn’t like a form of contract where he’s expected to always repay you back for every gift you give to him. as long as he’s there for you, that’s more than enough of a reward, you say, before plopping a chaste kiss to his cheek.  

“finally, you’re here. what took you so long?” xiao speaks to you with indifference concealing the relief that you actually came. he trails his sharp eyes to inspect your dressed up form and blushes slightly. “you look nice.”

immediately, your eyes widen at his underhanded compliment. did- did you hear that right? biting his lower lip gently, xiao clasps your hand in his, ignoring your astounded reaction, as he squeezes it reassuringly while watching the colourful fireworks light up the murky night.

without thinking, he turns to you when you’re focused on the display of bursting lights reflecting in your eyes, and murmurs to himself softly, “i hope you’ll spend the rest of your time with me, for however long it’ll last.”

XINGQIU.

of course, a date with xingqiu has to be extravagant and sophisticated to the last touch, right? guess again. he may come from a wealthy family, but that doesn’t mean he shares the same interest a selfish, pampered noble may have. he prefers something more simple, yet sentimental. confined in his household with nothing to do but bury his head in a book, he’s picked up some ideas for your date from the romance stories he’s read. surprisingly, they’re all rather cliché.  

the first thing he makes you guys do is go out in the blazing summer day to get yourselves a cool beverage. he explicitly asks the cashier to give him one straw [do they even exist in the game?] and smiles slyly as he thanks them and brings the drinks to you. when you ask about it, thinking that maybe he forgot, all he does is smirk before saying, “there’s no need, my liege. we can share, unless you’d rather melt in the sweltering sun, that is.” he winks teasingly. you... don’t really have much of a choice in the matter. as you stroll around the harbor together, you take turns drinking from the only straw and a wave of consciousness washes over you gradually. wait, isn’t this like an indirect kiss? you place a hand to your gaping mouth after sucking on the straw that xingqiu pressed his lips on merely seconds ago. you should know by now, how bold he is underneath his polite façade. 

after you finish sipping your drink - tediously at that, you both agree on going to the library to read books together since the heat is pretty unbearable to do anything enjoyable. xingqiu recommends you to try reading some of his personal favorites and you do the same as well. he’s thrilled to have a reading buddy now since it’s boring being here by himself. 

while you’re immersed in the novel that you randomly picked from the bookshelf, every now and then, xingqiu will look up from the pages of his book and faintly smile to himself, glad that you’re enjoying yourself.

the sun was setting and the stars started to appear in the pastel pink and orange of the evening sky. you place back the last book and stretch your arms, before turning to xingqiu. sighing, you give him a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek and softly say your farewell.

as you’re about to make your leave for the day, xingqiu halts you with his words, “wait. there’s something i need to do before we can end this date.” nonchalantly, he plucks a book from its shelf, opens its pages, and uses it to block the sunlight drifting through the transparent window glass, effectively shielding his vision from the public eye as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

his free hand finds its way combing through the back of your head to deepen the kiss. when he’s satisfied enough, the boy detaches his lips from yours and lightly rubs the flesh of your cheek with a finger, while placing the book down on a nearby table. you keep your eyes fixated on him as he licks the edges of his lips.

“that felt nice,” xingqiu murmurs, “you’re so sweet, i’d hate for anyone else to savor in this pleasant moment with you other than i. shall we continue this again on our next date too?”

ZHONGLI.

the first thing he does is make sure to bring mora, this time. it would be highly inconsiderate of mr. zhongli to have you pay for the expenses of this fine date. he’s one to take things nice and slow. sure, time is unfortunately measured and limited, but he wants to make the most of it with you, a mortal who, just like any other being, has a beginning and end to your life. zhongli wants to shower you in all the beauty and joy this world has to offer while you’re still here with him.

he may be a gentle-spoken and polite individual, but please don’t mistaken him as being shy in any way. he shows up to your residence one afternoon and presents you a bouquet of your preferred flowers while he asks if you would consider accompanying him on a date. you take the bundled up flowers, carefully stroking a petal as if it’s made of fragile glass and accepts his proposal with open arms. 

he takes you out to an expensive restaurant in the night of liyue and helps you select the best dishes. after you’re finished with your lavish and sophisticated meals, zhongli ushers you outside where you’re greeted with fresh air, a contrast to the suffocation you felt back at the restaurant. sure, the place is grand and your hunger is well-satiated, yet despite wearing your best clothing, you felt out of place there, like a commoner surrounded by nobles. 

when you express your earlier discomfort to zhongli, his eyes are filled with shame and he’s already apologizing like the gentleman he is. guiltily, you tell him it’s fine and you ask if you can show him something before you have to head on home. he ponders in thought before agreeing, walking hand in hand with you to your unknown destination. 

the chilling night breeze bites at your bare skin as you instantly shiver. this doesn’t go unnoticed in zhongli’s sharp eyes and he’s already unbuttoning his jacket. he drapes the coat over your shoulder blades and rubs his gloved hands on your cold fingertips to preserve warmth. “are you feeling cold perhaps? maybe we should head back?” you stop him before he can guide you back to the harbor. 

“i’m okay now. thank you for your concern.” you say to ease his poor mind. he nods and you both continue on. the walk uphill takes a while, but it’s worth it when you finally reach the top. your eyes widen in amazement as you witness the glimmering stars splayed across the pitch darkness of the sky. “zhongli, look. do you like it?” he simply nods, but all of his attention is focused on you.

zhongli grins down at your childishly excited face, pausing for a hesitant minute before he carefully places his hands on top of your shoulders. you look up at him in confusion and is about to question him, but any sound that comes out is cut off by his lips ensnaring yours in a kiss. you’re astounded by his intimate move, but you revel in his touch in a matter of seconds. 

he hopes, as he tightens his hold, that you’ll stay with him always, till your last breath. 

tagging. @scarymoosh

[ignisnocturnalia]

Hehehe I lied, but it is here now! Had a crisis about being done with my Band director's bull and wanting a grade on something really bad, did the former and decided to simply disintegrate once Friday hit. Drifter HCs will follow this, also may I say Caiatl. That is all.

Nokris x Reader

“You are a child reaching for a flame; the Taken Queen would not have you burnt.”

You were on point during the Strange Terrain strike, but you had never thought you would run into Nokris again. Granted, you realized, his death was on the physical plain while his Throne World still stood. Considering he never directly addressed you, you assumed that he either didn’t remember you or he chose not to, as oddly disappointing as that would be. The timbre of his voice unsettled you, but it was not as wracking as Xol’s; in fact, it was rather pleasing to hear.

The proposition itself was unexpected, and against Eris’s previous warnings you stopped to listen to what the Hive heretic had to say. Trekking quietly along the broken path of the distorted realm, you stopped occasionally to stare at blights littered over walls and floating in the air to see if you could catch a glimpse of the desecrated prince. The telltale sign of Taken emerging from their portals filled the air, and you genuinely prayed that you’re next decision was a wise one. 

Your ghost was probably screaming on the inside as you placed your guns to the floor, bringing your hands into the air while staring into the gleaming eye of a Knight. Grabbing your arm roughly, it tugged you through a massive doorway leading to a room that was strikingly similar to the Court of Oryx back at the Dreadnaught. The portal at the center of the room shimmered invitingly as the bony bastard himself came out; even in death, he appeared to be in his prime.

“I see you have heeded my advice; come, hope of the Light, see the Darkness.”

His claws are cold as he grasps at your shoulders despite the solar flame surging over his arms. Feeling bold, you let your own solar light extend past your body, lying comfortably across his neck with a warm glow. As a creature who worships the Darkness facing a servant of the Light, he reasonably withdraws with a hiss at your gesture

You won’t say it out loud because he obviously carries himself with extreme pride, but you can’t help but feel bad for him. How can one person be an exiled son, heretic, servant, and now puppet?

“I won’t serve Savathûn. But I think I wouldn't mind spending time with you.” Before he can question you, you are promptly pulled from the realm by Eris.

Cue Vanguard interrogation once you return to the Tower. The talk is so egregiously long you make a move that would make Cayde damn proud: “GuArDiAn, We’Re NoT yEt FiNiShEd WiTh ThIs DiScUsSiOn!” Hopefully your shining reputation will save you from any dire repercussions...

Tracing your steps back to where you first met, you look around suspiciously following the lack of noise inside the Hive breeding grounds. You had cut your comm ages ago, the constant ping of Commander Zavala’s hailing grating your ears. The ground beneath your feet crunched wetly with every step, and distantly you heard the first Hive screech. Turning in a guess to the source of the sound, you set off in a quick pace, gun in your hand.

Upon entering a new chamber, you froze in surprise as you saw Nokris lifting a Knight by the throat. Taken magic pooled in his palm and raced over the armor of the smaller Hive, the bone turning black and a bright white glow shimmering across its legs. Still gripping the soldier, Nokris slowly angled his head to look down at you.

“Little. Light.” Dropping the Knight with no grace, his imposing form closed in on you with haste. Before you could take a step back, his claws came up to close around your jaw and upper neck. The rough of his talons dug into your armor, and for a moment you worried he would pop off your helmet and let your blood boil throughout your body in the harsh atmosphere. Instead, he pulled you closer to his face and brought up his free hand to grasp your forearm.

Nokris easily dwarfed you; even if you stood on your own shoulders you wouldn’t be taller than him. Passively, your thighs rubbed against each other at the realization. A detail he decided he would catch. Teasing mirth danced in his three eyes, hidden malice swimming just behind small organs. Internally, you were probably going to pop your helmet off yourself if you got kink shamed by a Hive prince of all things. 

You squeaked quietly in surprise as he lifted you off the ground, the hand on your lower face readjusting to your hip. His hand, quite literally, engulfed your midsection as he brought you closer to him for inspection. This close, you could see every imperfection on his face. Second hand leaving your arm, you shivered as the prince ran a digit up the side of your leg and continued his way up, stopping thoughtfully at the junction of your jaw.

Staring into the glowing green embers of his eyes, there was no mistaking the murderous glint in them. At the same time, curiosity had made its home among his more dangerous faculties.

"You found me once, you came to me twice. Find me again, at the other side in the field of ash under the dark tower.” Letting you to the floor, Nokris turned his back and departed to Traveler knows where through the portal with the long forgotten Knight. Sinking to your knees in stunned silence, you looked down as a nearly imperceptible squeal broke the quiet. In front of you, was a Hive worm.

“No.” Before you could even speak, your Ghost gave its earful. 

“I can’t not take it! I probably need it to find him. Either way, I told you one of these worms would be coming home eventually, look at its wittle face.” Your Ghost made gagging noises as you fawned over the wriggling creature you held between your hands. Tucking the three eyed larva under your arm, you set out to find the way back out.

____________________________________________

The next week felt like hell. The worm continued to get bigger with every mission you went on and keeping it a secret from the Vanguard was close to impossible. You had been wracking your brain for the answer to his riddle, and to be completely honest, it made you feel inadequate that you couldn’t figure it out. You knew the other side meant the Ascendant Realm, but what was the dark tower? Where was the field of ash? You had initially thought it was at Skywatch, what with the Hive ship jutting out of the ground and the small pile of chitin inside the cave not too far away, but there wasn’t enough ash for it to be a field, nor was it under the ship point.

It wasn’t until a light snow dusted the Tower one evening that it all clicked. He didn’t mean ash ash. He meant snow! 

In a rush to the hangar, you waved a hasty goodbye to Holliday and transmatted into your ship, pulling out a layer of blankets to reveal your now cat sized worm. The grub squeed and reached its head up to your palm, crawling sluggishly into your hands. Holding the worm to your chest, you settled down in the pilot ship and gave your Ghost to plot a course. There was only one place on Earth constantly coated in snow with a structure that could be considered a dark tower.

“Ghost, set course for the Plaguelands. He’s at the Doomed Sea.”

You hadn’t been to the ravaged lands since the Siva Crisis; the whole territory gave you heebie jeebies. And yet, you were returning because one of humanity’s imminent threats wanted a chat that, realistically, ended with your head rolling on the floor.

The closer you got to your destination, the more restless the worm in your arms got. In fact, you could swear it was whispering something. Your skin crawled for a moment as you felt the phantom brush of his claw up your leg.

The moment your feet touched the ground, the world around you stuttered as the colors faded into grayscale, giving way to the Ascendant landscape. Below you, there was no mistaking the keen whispers of the worm. Its words were encouraging in a macabre way, praise and blatant lies; speaking of how well you fed it, talents being wasted on a god that heeds you not, urging you towards the ominous building looming over the shoreline.

Dust swept across at a rapid pace, as usual, in the warped realm. Coming up to the alcove, you saw him with his back turned to you. In a smooth turn, he faced you at last. Beautiful, blazing emeralds.

Relationship HCs

His idea of a relationship has wildly different parameters than any normal human would put up with

No matter where you are, or what you're doing, you can feel him at the back of your mind like a fog; it's a bit disconcerting to hear him talk in your head at first, but it becomes normal and he's actually quite helpful when you're out on missions

He expects you to help him study thanatonautics since you can die and be brought back within moments, but that's up to if you have enough charisma to convince your Ghost to let your bone boyfriend crush your skull repeatedly to see what you can learn about death

The relationship feels more like a symbiotic one rather than a romantic one, but you occassionally catch him practicing human gestures you've seen couples perform in public if he's feeling particularly good on a day

You're probably the only person who listens to him talk about all of his schtick and is able to give viable feedback; he is more thankful than he will let on about this fact

He does not like it when you try blocking him off from your thoughts and will demand to know everything you've done in the day when you see him again. In his perspective, he thinks you're trying to leave him behind like everyone else has

Will not handhold, because his hand can literally fit around your torso and because he thinks it's weird. He will, however, carry you places if you're going the same direction

He also thinks kissing is weird, but will (surprisingly!) actually let you give him kisses on his teeth; the sensation of soft flesh on his cold bones is unusual, but something he finds utterly riveting. Not that he'd let you know

Also doesn't like the amount of straight barbarity you inflict on the battlefield, but can appreciate your efficiency with your job; this is him silently worrying about your safety but refusing to acknowledge his crush on the flame throwing ape

His communication regarding affection is terrible, and if you couldn't tell shame on you. His favorite thing about you, that you will never hear from him or anyone else, is your face. He likes the way it changes into different expressions, the life in your eyes, and your lips because Hive physically cannot emote as expressively as humans do; you are an open book he has yet to read, adding new pages everyday

Nsfw 👁👄👁

First off, however you get the size difference to work, congratulations. His height over you is something he enjoys immensely when you two get into it, and it goes without saying he also likes how you "hug" him

He will fuck anywhere, literally anywhere. The floor? Yes. Against the wall? Yes. Hope you're somewhat of an exhibitionist, because he is not ashamed if any of his or Savathûn's troops walk in on you and will keep going

He bites a lot, and is not afraid to make you bleed because your Ghost can just patch you right up

Likewise, he will scratch you everywhere but he does stop to play with the softer spots

He is rough and fast, going after his own release rather than yours; however, he has high stamina so chances are you'll be overstimulated before he finishes

Absolutely a dom, he will not meet in the middle about anything of sexual nature

If you don't actively fight for your life during his build up, he will take that as the go ahead. He may be a Hive heretic, but he has standards

You don't really have the opportunity to find his sensitive spots as he usually restrains your arms, holding them above your head or pinning them down at your sides

He rarely makes actual noises, but he does hiss lowly whenever he makes particularly hard thrusts

He knows that copulation won't result in little Hive/Human hybrids running around with his blood in their veins, so 9 times out of 10 he will hilt himself and come inside you

Fluff

Uhhh, a w k w a r d

Anything that's fluffy is strictly delivered by you, and occasionally returned by Nokris since he doesn't get the point of such pleasantries

If you're fast enough, he will never get upset if you can sneak up on him for a smooch

Whatever he is doing, if you are available he much prefers having you by his side to have an extra set of eyes to help him observe (at least that's what he says)

Since his physical marks are healed quickly, he gifts you odds and ends from old planets his people have pillaged and little items you can wear on noticeable places

Hides it very well, but is extremely thrilled when you come to him when you want to do or learn something new

When you're particularly frustrated by something, he will comb his claws through your hair to his best abilities

Whenever you're with him, his demeanor is typically calmer; Savathûn's presence and influence over him is highly diminished in the face of your Light

The one thing he will willingly do with you that's remotely romantic is stargazing; not because of the romantic element, oh no, but because he wants to catalogue any changes and is very invested in teaching you about space faring

Has nicknames for you like Little Light or >Insert any game seal<

[collapsingintojupiter]

To The End And Back: Chapter 1

After seeing @fangirltothefullest‘s art and hcs for Posessed!Ranboo, I knew I had to write something for myself about it. So, here we are.

Summary: When Techno and Philza discover an unfinished portal within an ancient stronghold, they accidentally end up with a lot more than they bargained for.

Characters: Philza, Technoblade, and Ranboo

Chapter 2

---

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of Techno’s hooves on the stone floor echoed up through the hallway; Philza turned, noting the flicker of his torch at the end of the corridor. 

“Anything?” he called. The light swiveled around, illuminating Techno’s face as he turned to face him. The piglin shook his head. 

“Not yet,” he said. His voice echoed across the dark cavern, across its slick walls and the damp stone over their heads. Phil’s wings fluffed up automatically, shuffling against his back as he held his torch up towards the low ceiling. 

“I wonder who built this,” he wondered aloud. “I’ve never seen anything like it before…” Technoblade said nothing, and it was clear to Philza that he had no idea either as he started down the hallway again. He followed, keeping an eye out for enemies as he followed his old friend deeper underground. 

Water dripped steadily from the ceiling, but aside from that and the sound of their footsteps it was completely silent. Phil and Techno occasionally exchanged glances with each other in the dark, though neither spoke. It felt wrong to talk, somehow. Almost like they weren’t supposed to be here; like the old passageways themselves were repelled by their presence. 

Phil heard a soft patter of feet and froze, though he barely had time to register what it was before Techno hurled himself forward at the tiny zombie. The piglin let out a roar, swinging his axe into it with all his might. 

“PHILZA LOOKOUT!” he shouted over the creature’s death cry, and Phil couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend’s reaction as the zombie’s mangled body dropped to the stone floor - very, very dead. 

“Thanks mate,” he said as Techno turned away from it. Technoblade nodded to him, before he pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders and started forward again. 

Together, they checked the rooms of the ancient stronghold one by one. Unfortunately they found little of value; a chest here and there, some stale bread, a little gold. It wasn’t enough to be worth anything. 

“We should leave,” Techno said at last, looking around with an expression that was somewhere between tired and annoyed. “This was a waste of time.”

“Yeah, there isn’t much here,” Phil agreed. He stretched his wings out as far as he could - which, admittedly, wasn’t very far with the walls of the cave so close around him. He sighed.

“Do you know which way is out?”

Once spoken, the question hung uncomfortably in the air between the two explorers. Phil and Techno slowly turned to look at each other, and the realization slowly dawned on each that they had no idea how they’d gotten here through the stronghold’s many winding tunnels. The old structure was practically a labyrinth, but neither had thought to actually mark their path through it. 

“Fuck,” Philza said quietly. Techno nodded, then slowly spun around. 

“This is...not good,” he said.

“Should we split up to look for a route out?” Phil asked. Immediately, his friend shook his head. 

“We might never find each other again,” he said lowly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Ah, you have a point there.” Phil frowned, thinking over their options. “This place can’t go forever, can it? Should we just pick a direction and go?”

“I...guess we might as well.” Techno sighed. He looked around the room one last time, then started back the way they’d come through the hallway. 

More twists and turns revealed themselves in the old stronghold as Phil and Techno wandered through it. They called to each other in the dark, torches flickering over cold, lifeless walls and the shelves of ancient libraries. Nothing lived down here but the bats, whose calls echoed over their heads, and the occasional zombie which they dispatched easily enough. 

After some time the two came to an unfamiliar hall, though before they could turn around Techno froze. 

“Do you hear that?” he asked, as one of his ears twitched. 

“Hear what?” Philza held still and let the silence close in around them, straining to catch what Techno had heard. After a moment, he thought he did - a faint humming that seemed to come from one of the rooms further down. He and Techno exchanged glances, then started slowly towards the sound. Techno pulled out his Axe of Peace, and Philza gripped his sword tightly in his hand, holding his torch up high in the other. 

“Whoah,” Techno stopped in the entrance to the room, eyes going wide at the sight within. Philza joined his side, eyes narrowing at the room’s dark interior. The humming was slightly louder here, and seemed to be coming from an odd structure in the center. 

The two stared at it for a moment, before Phil finally shook off the weird feeling it gave him and stepped past Techno, holding up his torch so he could better see...well, he wasn’t sure what it was. It was square in shape, with a hollow center, and it was made of some kind of material he’d never seen before. Its edges flickered with a faint purple light, and Phil wondered if that was where the humming came from.  

“What is it?” he asked at last, though he could tell by Techno’s silence he didn’t have a clue either. His wings shivered and he stepped forward, reaching out and resting his hand on the edge of the structure. It was warm to the touch. 

“There’s something in this one,” Techno called, and Phil jumped. The piglin had gone to the other end of the structure, where he held his torch over something spherical that glimmered in the center of one of the sections. He raised an eyebrow, and realized as he glanced back at it that the section he stood over had a small dent in its center, as if another one of those...things belonged there. 

“Do you know what it is?” he asked. 

“It looks like an ender pearl, but it’s different somehow.” 

A clatter of footsteps echoed down the hallway outside, and something tall appeared in the doorway with an excited yelp. 

“Oh thank god I found you guys!”

Philza jumped, wings jolting outwards as Techno let out a shout and grabbed his axe. They both spun around, weapons at the ready - and Phil’s eyes widened as his gaze met the other’s. 

“Ranboo?” 

“Uh, hey guys...” Ranboo eyed Philza’s sword nervously, and he lowered it away from the hybrid as Techno slowly did the same. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Phil asked. 

“Well...I was um, sort of worried you two had got lost down here...so, I uh...came to see if I could help...s-sorry,” the boy stumbled over his words, rubbing his neck anxiously as he finished with an awkward apology. Philza sighed, and his wings folded back to rest at his shoulders

“Well, you weren’t entirely wrong about us being lost,” he said. “Do you know how to get out of here?”

“Of course! I left a trail so I wouldn’t get lost.” Ranboo grinned a little, but then his eyes widened as he caught sight of the structure behind them. 

“Whoah...what is that?” he asked. “It’s...it’s humming.”

“We uh, don’t know,” Philza said shrug. “Do you know anything about what it is?”

“I have no idea.” Ranboo shook his head, tail flicking back and forth, and he looked to Philza with curious eyes. “Can I…?”

“Sure.” Philza stepped aside so he could better see the structure, and Ranboo’s eyes widened as he took in its shape and colors. 

“There’s something like an ender pearl in this one over here,” Techno offered, pointing to the one section that had been filled in. Ranboo’s eyebrows shot up, and he ran over to the piglin’s side. 

“That’s...an eye of ender,” he said after a long pause. 

“A what?”

“I know how to make these!” Ranboo suddenly jumped to his feet, startling Techno, though the piglin stopped himself before he could swing the axe he still held in his hands. Philza raised an eyebrow at the two.

“How?” he asked.

“You need blaze powder and ender pearls. I made one before, on accident, but I didn’t know what to do with it so I got rid of it. I think...I think I could do it again?” He looked at Techno, who automatically turned to Phil. He shrugged. 

“We can try. I know Techno has blaze powder, and I’ve got a lot of pearls.” One of his wings stretched outward, motioning to the exit. “Care to lead the way out of here, Ranboo?” The ender boy nodded excitedly, jumping ahead of the duo back into the hallway. He’d left a trail of torches to the strange room, and the group was able to follow the lights back to the surface. Philza breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped into the sunlight, shaking out his wings and stretching them to their furthest extent. They were...nothing like what they’d once been, ragged and torn with burnt sections where the feathers had never grown back from their injuries. Ranboo’s eyes widened slightly at the sight, though he quickly ducked his head when Phil looked at him. 

“Let’s get back and see what we can do,” he said, his voice even as if nothing had happened. Ranboo nodded, looking somewhat relieved, and together the group started back towards Techno’s house. A light snow fell as they walked, muffling their footsteps, and Philza automatically lifted a wing to protect Ranboo from the precipitation. He looked up at him gratefully.

The three were cold when they finally got back to the house, especially Ranboo, despite all their warm cloaks and snow gear. Philza put a pot of water on the stove and they gathered around the fireplace, where they settled down to talk about what they’d found. 

[zenbutnotreally]

Blaze boy sappy nappy HCS!

I just thought of it and i was like “WAAOOW”

His Childhood and Past:

His real parents were human but he lost them in the nether when he was just a toddler, when he was 5 or something. (let me sprinkle some angst)

 The blaze king (i just made that up but i’d be cool, like it’s a challenge boss in the game, imagine-) had pitty on him and gave him the core of a blaze but since he was a human child he managed to observe only a part of it.

Blazes didn’t like him, like they didn’t harm him (they couldn’t harm him anyway) but they didn’t accept him as well. He hunted, found food and survived as a little kid, until Dream and George made a nether portal on accident and found him. 

When they found him, he was injured from trying to hunt down a hoglin for food. They immediately helped him even though he refused their attemps of help at first, because he was scared that they would hurt him too.

After that they became friends, Sapnap showed them around the nether and protected them from mobs that cause mainly fire damage, he showed them the bastion, the fortress: his “home”, the nether forests, soul sand deserts, basically everywhere he can reach in nether.

Then Dream and George brought him to the overworld, he would cry if he could, because he remembered only so less about the overworld, after 7 years of miraculously surviving in the literal hell as a kid, he was finally free from there, back to where he was born.

His Blaze-boy Abilities:

Since he observed only a part of the blaze core, he can’t do everything that blazes can, like floating away or being able to control the fire

He has infinite fire resistance but he also takes damage in the water.

He drinks lava when he wants to drink something, also he needs all the melted metals and rocks for his body since he has a core to feed in himself. (if the core starts to loose it’s energy, it starts sucking up Sapnap’s soul energy, so he needs to feed it time to time.

He can create fire from his body but it has a direct connection with the amount of emotions he has, he can’t really control it though. Example: He lits up a bit when someone scares him by pranking or when he gets a little too excited. He burns up as whole if he gets pissed.

He can’t actually cry because yk he needs water to cry but he doesn’t have any in his body.

He gets cold in the overworld really fast, you can sometimes see him litting himself up with a flint and steel or swim in a lava pool because he wants to get a little warmer. (the fact that Nick gets cold easily irl too though-)

His Appereance: 

He always has some dirt or smudge on his face, he likes it like that.

His clothes always have parts of little burns on them, as a result of his roller-coaster-like emotions.

His eyes are blue and when his core needs aliment they glow, just like the soul fire, because the core is eating up on his soul, just a tad bit though so it’s ok.

He always has a big smile on when he’s with his loved ones :D

Hope you liked this~ I sure did have a lot of fun while writing this. If you liked it i have ideas for rest of the dream team as well :3 I can also take requests for other mcyts. Stay safe!

[ffxiv-ariavitali]

HC: The Eighth Umbral Calamity

Because apparently ya’ll wanna cry LOL

Shadowbringer spoilers | Alternate universe: If G’raha Tia and the Ironworks did not do research on the Crystal Tower and allowed the Eighth Umbral Calamity to run its course

special thanks to @haylin-chan , @sage-just-loves-elves and @windup-dragoon for enabling me like this. further thank you to everyone that liked the cursed post

i’ll be collecting my jars of tears now.

AO3 ver.

❅ ❅ ❅

Premise: With the aid of you, the Warrior of Light, the Garleans had been pushed back, line by line, across accursed Ghimlyt Dark to the point where it was deemed that the Resistance would be able to fully wrestle control and claim victory by the turn of the season. As a result, the ally nations within the Eorzean and Far Eastern Alliance withdrew from the battlefield in order to return to their nation-state and to shore up defenses for any future hostilities that the Garlean Empire would retaliate with.

However, the nation leaders forgot the most important—and more arguably most dangerous—aspect of mortal kind: their irrational unpredictability and desperation when they are backed up too far into the corner. By this logic did the Empire rain hell on the battlefield with the toxic gas, its potency inexplicably high and spared no one along the way…

...Not even you, Warrior of Light. For when you had heard that your comrades were falling by the tens, by the hundreds, you had rushed to the front line as quickly as you could. You took precautions, your entire order did, that you thought would serve as defense against the poison, but it did not work. 

It did not work.

❅ ❅ ❅

[Aymeric]

The Black Rose spared no one on the front. It had been but a fortnight since he had returned to Ishgard when he received the news that the toxic gas had been let loose on the field and he couldn’t help the cold churning within his gut that something was going terribly, terribly wrong.

It was for this reason that he often visited Saint Reymanaud’s Cathedral. He prayed and he prayed to blessed Halone to show mercy, to offer Her guidance and protection in this most delicate of times. War often brought with it bloodshed of immeasurable quantities and faith in the divine had never been higher. Aymeric knew this. He knew this.

In the end, his prayers were not answered for the sight of you utterly destroyed him.

They brought your body back from the warzone and as you lay on the cold metal table, he swore that you were just asleep. Despite the wails of utter mortification, of pain and anger, from the Fortemps family—predominantly that of Lord Edmont, for the pain of losing yet another child of his family must be shattering him from within—he wanted to shake you awake because you appeared just as you always do when you would lie with him together in bed, so peaceful and so serene.

Yet, when he touched you—a palm against your cheek in the gentlest of manners, as if you were but a porcelain doll ready to fragment and shatter at any given moment—you were cold as ice.

Aymeric has never felt so empty, so broken, as if a dragon’s talon was impaling him over and over again without cease. The frustration within him broiled as if he was thrown into a blazing inferno for a sin he had not committed. In this entire ordeal, the same thoughts ring over and over again in his mind:

Why has the Fury forsaken us? Have we not suffered enough? Why did you go alone?

Why was I not there with you?

In his frustration, and after a few punches to the wall, Aymeric takes up his sword once more and gives the order for a return march to the front. If he was correct in his thinking, the Alliance would be requesting reinforcements anyway and he could argue that he was taking the initiative. Though, all he wanted was revenge. He was going to have. It.

Even if he has to die trying.

[Estinien]

Estinien swore that he wasn’t going to reveal himself on the front lines. The dragoon swore that he was only going to remain in the shadows, plucking off the war machina that he knew would be aiming for your blind spot, as you fought and fought and fought your way through your aches and exhaustion to reclaim the line that was regained by the Garleans.

In fact, he figured that it was only a matter of time, for you have allowed the returning Alliance members to push farther than they could have hoped for. In a way, it was almost as if the rumors of the soldiers dropping like flies was exaggerated overmuch, as rumors are wont to do in any given situation. So why?

Why did he have such a heavy sense of foreboding?

His instincts flared then, drawing him to attention, for there was a distinct change in the aether swirling about him emanating from the Garlean side. It was like a prickle, small like a leech, but he couldn’t shake it off. Soon enough, it was as if he was drowning on the inside the more he breathed in the scent of smoke and flame...smoke and flame…

When Estinien understood what was occurring, his head snapped towards where you were standing. With the amount of exertion you were displaying, the constant panting and pauses to catch your breath, you were in the most danger.

And his sense of foreboding proved true when you had collapsed to your knees on the battlefield.

Adrenaline pulsated within the dragoon’s blood, but even at his distance, he was growing weak. Darkness started spotting his eyes and he was growing dizzy, fatigued, exhausted.

Not like this, not like this!

The man mustered all his strength to vault into the air. It was shaky, even through his addled mind he knew this, but you were in danger. You were in danger. He won’t let you be in danger…!

A part of him registered landing by your side, scooping you up within his arms just before you were about to get hit by a magitek ray, and jumping into the air once more. However, he had used up all his energy just reaching you and the distance he wanted to put between you and the danger was nowhere near enough.

In the end, he had collapsed in some unseen corner of the battlefield close to Resistance Headquarters, with you on his lap and within his arms. At this point, even the inner dragon within was growing tame, growing lax, and it was then he knew that it was too late.

So, he pressed a kiss on your forehead, only noticing now that you were barely awake and crying in front of him and this caused him to shed tears of his own.

“Est...in...I…” you attempted. “Shh…” he whispered back meekly, holding you close as he felt himself fading away all the same. “I...love...sor-” “No…”

No. I am sorry. I love you.

I will not let you go alone.

[Haurchefant]

(AU where he’s still alive for the sake of this cursed post)

It was always tradition that the eldest son was to be the one selected to go into battle when there is a need for it. That being said, the role of the youngest son was to ensure that support was given where needed, but to focus predominantly on shoring up the defense on the home front. Haurchefant being the middle son, was duty-bound to serve on the front lines with Artoirel and he couldn’t be happier for the opportunity.

Or, at least, he thought he couldn’t be happier.

When the Alliance had deemed it acceptable to leave the defense to the Resistance, allowing token forces to stay within headquarters to maintain an efficient communications network in case things were to go south, he attempted negotiating with the lord commander for him to stay. He wouldn’t admit that it was no more than an excuse to ensure he could always have your back during a fight and was no more surprised when Aymeric told him no with an amused smile on his face.

Before he left, he approached you for a temporary farewell. He will pray for your success, will pray for good fortune to you so that you may bring freedom to all of Eorzea in the face of the ones that wish to lock them all away like rabid dogs. After all, you had brought his people solace after a thousand-year-long war and he has no doubt that you would be able to do the same here.

Little did he know that the smile that you had given then and the words of reassurance you had spoken was to be the last he would have of you.

The next time you appeared before him, he was staring at your corpse on top of a metal table. His eyes were wide with disbelief, a part of him dying, detaching and breaking away from inside of him as a result. Even at the behest of his father, who urged him that it was alright to openly weep for the loss, he left the room to be on his lonesome, somehow wandering outside in the process.

How could I have been so foolish? How could I not have known? How could this possibly happen?

...Why did I choose to follow propriety and not kiss you?

Somehow, in his dark musings, Haurchefant ended up walking to his encampment and from the corner of his eye, he saw the entrance to the intercessory. The Falling Snows. The place that he had welcomed you to use when you sought his help.

He entered the hall and he collapsed to his knees almost immediately. All alone, he unravels his burdens, his pains and woes, along with punching the stone cold floors and walls, tossing anything and everything that he could in a fit of rage that he is unable to break away from. It took half a dozen knights to restrain him when he tried going after you searching for Shiva, and it took half a dozen more with the help of an anesthetic to force him to stop hurting himself now.

You needed me, he thought amidst the darkness. You needed me...and I left you all alone.

[Thancred]

As planned, Thancred had taken a group of the most highly skilled Far Eastern operatives in order to carry out the subterfuge plan that he so easily proposed in front of the Alliance leaders. When you had approached him afterwards, urging him to be careful, he smiled and held you close.

“Worry not, I have done this before. I will ensure that I come back to you.”

All of the Scions knew protocol. Those participating in the espionage aspect of their order are issued a special set of linkpearl that are able to tap into multiple different frequencies if they knew the proper input code. With this, they are able to listen in to radio messages sent between different sectors of Garlemald’s imperial army…as well as receive coded messages from their allies safely and without any fear of being eavesdropped.

Then, one day and completely out of the usual norm, he had received a message from home base.

“BEACON. ROSE. GONE.”

Thancred knew that the mention of ‘beacon’ is a reference to you. While you may not know it, the rest of the order had decided this codename to reference you during missions because that’s what you were: a beacon of hope in the darkest times, lit up the brightest for those that can yet be saved.

‘Rose’ could only mean one thing, the Black Rose that had been brought to light thanks to Alphinaud’s efforts elsewhere on Garlean territory. The deadly poison was so potent that it was enough to utterly annihilate a group of insurgents seeking to revolt against the Empire. If anyone were to so much breathe it in, then-

‘Gone.’

Thancred’s heart almost gave way when he pieced the puzzle together. At this point, the mission was more or less complete as rumors of the puppet prince was beginning to gain traction, so he sent the order that the infiltrators remain on standby to ensure the fire was still burning as he returned.

Faster. Faster. Faster!

What greeted him upon his return to Seventh Heaven was what he didn’t wish for. Something that he couldn’t have ever imagined.

Your body was laid out on one of the beds in the medical wing, the other Scions—including Alphinaud—surrounding you in a circle. The twins were openly weeping, Alisaie being held in her brother’s arms. Y’shtola couldn’t bear to look, choosing to stand in the corner with Krile and Urianger’s consolations because it was so, so wrong to gaze upon your features without the glitter of your aether flowing from you.

“This has to be some sort of joke…” Thancred began as he approached your bedside. 

He called your name and when you didn’t respond, he reached out to hold your hand and found it eerily cold, like the Coerthan winter that you had escaped to after the bloody banquet. After he had failed Minfilia.

The thought tore him apart as he reached out to collect your body in his arms. This time, he allowed himself to cry in front of the others. He allowed himself this weakness that he forbade himself from feeling upon learning that Minfilia was gone. As he held you, his body was shaking, racking with sobs that was so painful to watch because of the fact that he would be the last one to show any emotion asides from frustration during a mission.

“I failed...I failed yet again...to save what I hold dear…”

With his words, the others couldn’t hold it in anymore. Their beacon of hope was lost.

You weren’t coming back.

[Hien]

He was the one that urged Yugiri to remain in Eorzea to provide continuous aid to the Alliance granted the number of stationed shinobi in the region. Upon learning the Scions’ plan to infiltrate into Garlean territory, Hien was rather proud of his nation’s immediate ability to contribute in the war effort, in the name of freedom that you and yours had provided to his country.

When he received the news that the leftover defense of the line at Ghimlyt Dark was to be left to the Resistance, when Yugiri had returned to the Kienkan in order to personally deliver the message, he thought finally. Finally, his brothers and sisters have the upper hand and will no longer have to live in fear of those monsters that had taken so much from them for their delusional causes.

Oh, how cruel the kami must be.

You had been sending him letters the entire time. On the surface, it was to keep him updated on the war but he mostly wanted to make sure that you weren’t pushing yourself overmuch in a land where he isn’t able to easily reach. He would often tease in his letters that, should the next time you come to visit be of leisure, he will no longer be tempted to release you from his embrace once more. He wanted to hold you, he wanted to touch you, he wanted you to be safe.

Then, your letters stopped coming.

One day, two days, three days, ten, there was radio silence even from the Alliance and he was half tempted to send a runner to your homeland to bear word on what may be going on. The only thing that stopped him then was Lyse coming on her own volition, bearing the message herself.

“Hien, I’m sorry…” the woman began and there was a ringing growing louder in the Doman lord’s ears. “Lyse, do not—” “Hien, the Warrior—” “—I implore you, please stop—” “—because of Black Rose—” “LYSE!”

Even as Hien stood to his feet, shouting the woman’s name from the top of his lungs with such disrespect in front of his ministers, Lyse continued eyeing him patiently. Painfully. For the words that were to escape her lips were unkind, unfair, and it makes him wonder what exactly the kami have planned for their people.

“...Hien, they are gone,” Lyse says softly, brokenly, with as much pain that he must have been feeling since she had worked with you for the majority of your journey as the Warrior of Light.

It only took but a moment for him to decide that he was going to return to Eorzea in the company of a contingent of soldiers. After all, if Lyse had decided to make a personal visit asides from passing the message along—which could have been done by any other Scion—then that meant that something had gone terribly wrong.

Prior to boarding the ship sailing for your homeland, Hien brings the letters that you had sent him all this time. In his private quarters, he reads them, over and over again. He could still hear your voice saying the words on the paper in his mind. Even as he spilled tears as he read the words, he could still hear you.

He wishes that he could hear your voice again.

[bornofbloodandwater]

Senses and Other Oddly Specific Headcanons

1. What does your muse smell like?    

      A distinctly free and ancient Mediterranean woman. Salt, a perfume she makes of patchouli, jasmine and passionflower, fresh fruits like peaches and apricots. She makes her own soaps and takes great pride in her good hygiene. Washing regularly and taking particular care of her hair with high end shampoos and conditioners. Braiding expensive oils into the locks before she sleeps.

Those days you would spend at the beach all day and wander home to shower, grace golden skin with fine perfumes and silk to treat yourself to a delicious meal and a glass of wine. A body hot from the day spent in the blazing heat of a July day, falling asleep amongst crisp sheets cold as they should be, a relief against the slightly seared skin of your cheek.

2. What do your muse’s hands feel like?    

     A pleasant balance between fragile, slim, bony ladies hands and hardy, powerful hands of someone who trains with their hands every day of their life. Small but strong. The few scars she has are from before her transformation. Her middle and index knuckles on her right hand scarred in small faded splits from training, smooth and soft.

The scars of a child who fought for their place stretched across the hands of a young woman with no need to continue the fight but does for the nostalgia, the belonging.

3. What does your muse usually eat in a day?

     For the morning it is usually a strong cup of tea with milk, a fruit juice of any kind and homemade bread with butter or toasted with jam.

For most of the rest of the day she snacks her way through when she can. Pastries, nectarous fruits, hard aged cheeses with honey and ground coffee, little pouches of nuts and dried berries in every bag/jacket she owns pretty much. Can’t catch Xio without snacks!

Her nights she typically makes a homemade pasta or a tray of vegetables roasted with balsamic, garlic salt and pepper, lots of olive oil. She eats simply but indulgently. Not a particular fan of extravagant meals, tons of courses and hours taken over eating 20 plates. The types of cuisines she appreciates best are those that do simple things to the highest quality, Italian, Japanese, Greek, Portuguese.

4. Does your muse have a good singing voice?

     Of course! However, she rarely sings for anyone. Not for any reason other than they don’t ask. She uses it to soothe herself and others to sleep, most of the songs she takes to are ancient folk songs from whatever nations she takes to. Asking the oldest members of society to teach her their songs, their histories, their meanings. To carry on history as an immortal is essential to her, especially in the ways she feels are most important; culturally.

5. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks?  

     Uhhhh looks away from the long list of atrocities Xio has committed over the years to soothe her grief. Does murdering people count? I’d say that’s a pretty bad habit hahaha

She tends to make a bit of a bad habit out of one-night stands honestly in a lot of her verses. Causes some uncomfortable run ins especially if she’s getting a bit long lived and runs into someone she banged 40 years ago looking the exact same as she did that night.

6. What does your muse usually look like / wear?

     Oh I wish I could just show you a ton of photos I have saved for how I imagine she dresses.

Always well dressed, even when she’s under dressed or half dressed. A picture of effortless elegance, thrown together, sultry and graceful.

Xio dresses in a lot of silk, she finds it very pleasing and quite sexy. Cashmere winters, linen summers. She dresses a little like 70s trust fund baby would hahaha pretty preppy and clean. Crisp cotton shirts with a silk scarf in her hair, wool or cashmere trousers, maybe a silk slip thrown over the top of the shirt instead, not uncommon for a mini skirt to appear in the summer.

Loves dresses over all though. Fond of clothes that are easily...pulled up her thighs or necklines to be pulled down. Always prepared.

The general wardrobe colours are sandy camel, light dawn blues and lilacs, white and charcoal greys. Black if she’s feeling especially chic or broody. ✨NEUTRALS✨

7. Is your muse affectionate? How much? How so?

     omfg don’t get me STARTED. This idiot sea simp wants to curl up in you lap, play with your hair and sing you to sleep, kiss every segment of your fingers and bless every bone in your body with her touch, and she’s only just seen you across the room. Xiomara craves intimacy, especially on a deeper level, but she doesn’t need to love you or be loved to make you feel like a worshipped hero of old.

Let her bury herself amongst your desires.

She has types and she has boundaries but it isn’t hard to have her sitting in your lap and lavishing you with all the love she has to give unless she’s feeling like making you wait and beg for her attention. Flings and one night stands are worth no less to her than a soulmate. In the end she hopes in every partner to find someone who could love her, give her those eyes that truly say they are hers and that she’ll look into them and fall herself.

8. What position does your muse sleep in?

     On her front with a leg pulled up on the side she’s facing. She’s a restless sleeper to say the least so this half-foetal position is semi-soothing. By restless I don’t mean she moves a lot because she doesn’t move much but just in case you’re new here, Xio suffers terrible ptsd driven nightmares and occasional night terrors. Almost all focussing on the death of her sister but sometimes on the faces of her dead peers and people, wooooo!

9. Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

Not in the slightest, she moves extremely quietly, eerily so. Thank the sirens who made her, for making the tiny, creepy, walking jump-scare that is Xiomara Athanas. In fact she’s grown to like sneaking up on people in her life, causing a little mischief. Seeing them sigh in relief when they recognise her but internally chuckling at the amount of times in her work there’s a gasp of horror instead. ...I never said she was lawful good here, guys...

tagged by: @listered​ thank you! I love these and your HCs were wonderful!!!

tagging: @sunbentsky​​ (dragon wife? or dragon father-in-law? I’d also love to know more about Kaska too! so whichever you’d prefer), @mettleborn (for Duncan!) @wldflwers (Carey? or Freya?), @fourmarksmage, @platkisloneczne @godbanes (Thetis or Ares???)

[freetobeeyouandme]

Adam Lives - Headcanon

Ok so I started writing a fanfic about this yesterday on my way to pride. The thing is this hc is getting more extensive the more I think about it, and I feel like it’s healthier for me to work on my original fiction than to fix something someone else broke, so I’m not actually going to write this (if you want to, feel free to do it tho. I’d love to read it!). Regardless, here’s how Season 7 could have gone down the exact same way but without the dumb queerbait-y and bury-your-gays bullshit:

Adam, seeing his fellow fighter pilots die around him, decides he wants to live

It’s a split second decision. He sees a laser beam headed right for him. And he just hits the eject button. 

The ship goes boom around him but he’s out and tumbling to the ground. 

In the battle his parachute is probably hit or something. He hits earth hard. Is definitely unconscious for a while. But he’s alive.

When he gets to he’s got burns everywhere, and definitely a couple of broken bones. The fight’s over but the Galra are still there. In the distance he can see the particle barrier of the Garrison, but it’s so far away. He’s not sure he can make it. Plath City is closer, so that’s where he’s headed. 

Halfway there he watches a Galra cruiser descend. But it’s too late to turn around now, so he drags himself on. 

The Galra are corralling the humans by the time he makes it to Plath City. He stumbles on, practically collapsing into the arms of an Galra officer.

When he comes to again he’s in a bed. The architecture is unlike anything he’s ever seen, but whoever put him there gave him something against his burns. His leg is still broken but in a cast. And he can see without his glasses, so he guesses they must have corrected his vision too. He knows it was the Galra, but for a moment he relaxes because the pain is gone

Then the Galra come. They recognized him by his uniform. He’s Garrison. They expect information in return for them patching him up.

Adam doesn’t give it to them. He alternates from silence to telling them to go fuck themselves, but he’s trying his hardest not to break. Not even when the Galra turn from guilting him into talking to violence. 

Adam doesn’t give in, not even when Sendak himself pays him a visit. 

He’s not going to talk, and the attempts are not worth it, Sendak decides.

Should we just kill him, an underling asks. 

But that too would just be a waste, so they just put him back down on earth, into a labor camp.

At first Adam doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but during his torture on the ship he’s started to pray for a miracle. He’s started to pray for Sam Holt’s alien stories about a giant robot named Voltron coming to earth and saving them. He starts dreaming about Takashi freeing him, first from the torture chamber, then from the labor camp. 

Adam definitely doesn’t want to admit that part of the Takashi coming to rescue him fantasy involves desperate declarations of love and steamy kisses. 

Sam said Takashi looked different now, that he’d lost an arm, had a scar across his face, that part of his hair was white now, but in Adam’s dreams he still looks the same. He feels the same too. Adam misses him now more than ever.

Labor camp is hell. He makes some friends there, because humans are social animals and even in hell they form groups. They find companions in their suffering. But at night, when the fire goes out and they’re thrust into darkness, he’s alone. They’re almost twenty to a room, all sleeping on the floor, shivering in the cold, and even though there are bodies surrounding him, he’s alone. 

At night he’s back in the torture chambers. At night he tries to hold onto the miracle. But every day Voltron doesn’t come it gets harder.

He meets a woman with a little child who is not getting enough rations. None of them are, but she is worse off than the rest of them. He doesn’t hesitate before giving her some of his. 

The woman refuses, but he insists. He helps, because that’s all he can do. With the heavy work and the small rations his body’s going to give out sooner or later, so making sure someone else might survive long enough to make it out alive is going to be his way of going out with a blaze of glory. Not in a cockpit, but here, wasting away slowly in a labor camp.

Sometimes he wishes he’d never pushed that button. At least the other death would have been quick. Less painful. But it’s the same wish for survival that led him to push the eject button that keeps him moving.

He’s getting weaker every day. By now others pitch in to help feed the woman and her child. They take turns giving up their rations.

But still they’re all going to die.

He’s going to die.

Then the miracle happens. 

Others see it first, and it’s their shouts that direct his attention to the sky: There’s movement. Disruption of order. There’s a battle in the sky, and even though they’re too far away to make out much of what is happening, he knows it’s Voltron. 

It has to be. 

There’s big purple laser beams, there’s ships crashing to the ground. The Galra try to round them up at first, to get them back into their confines, but they refuse. And in the end the Galra themselves are just as curious. 

The battle ends with something large and yellow hurtling through the sky. It lands nearby, but he’s not close enough to make it out. The Galra start ushering them back into their barracks, try getting things back under control, but then cars come from the garrison. Soldiers march through the streets, overwhelming the Galra easily. Many shoot back, but the Garrison outnumbers them, and they are easily subdued. 

A few Galra prisoners are led away in handcuffs, the most part of the Garrison troupes moves forward. Adam catches a few words about a Lion. 

Lion. A Voltron lion. Right here. 

Part of him wonders if it was Takashi’s lion. 

A Garrison officer explains to them that they are free now, but Adam barely registers. His legs start shaking, and he finds himself grabbing for his neighbor to keep upright. 

Except he collapses anyway. The Galra have lost, and he’s free, and after the battle, after the torture, after the labor camp, his body can’t hold him up any longer. 

He wakes up in a human hospital, curtains all around. There’s an IV in his arm, and his first reaction is panic. But before he can pull it out, a nurse is at his side. 

She’s got brown skin, long hair in a messy pony tail, and some of the saddest eyes Adam’s ever seen. And most importantly she’s human.

She tells him that he’s save and that he needs to calm down. Slowly, he does. And then he starts crying, because he’s save. After everything he’s been through, he’s safe. 

The nurse sits with him for a while, holding his hand, catching him up on what has happened and keeping him calm. 

Afterwards he drifts in and out of sleep. Despite the knowledge that he’s safe, his body is still on high alert. That’s not going to change any time soon, he knows, so he just accepts it, trying to keep himself calm.

At some point a woman comes in, dressed in a Garrison uniform. At first he thinks she’s here for him, but she’s not. She just asks every person for their names. 

When it’s his turn, the woman types his name into her tablet and a frown plasters itself onto her face. She asks him to repeat himself, then to spell it. It’s hard, because he hasn’t spoken much during his time as a prisoner, and not at all since he’s first woken up in the hospital. His voice sounds rough and weak, and speaking hurts. 

But he has to speak, because the woman explains that he’s not in the system. So he explains to her who he is. Garrison pilot. Galra prisoner since the first battle, since his fighter jet exploded. 

Something gleams in the woman’s eyes, and then she excuses herself to make a phone call. 

When she comes back she promises him she’ll be with him again shortly and leaves to talk to the rest of the people in the room and in the hospital. It only hits him then that his jet blew up and he hasn’t had contact with the Garrison since. It hits him that the Garrison must think he’s dead. That’s why he’s not in the system anymore. 

Does Takashi know? How did he receive the news? The thought makes him sick. 

The woman returns later, in the company of someone else. A part of him wishes it’s Takashi, but the man at her side is Commander Iverson.

Who is now Admiral Iverson. 

When he asks, he’s told Admiral Sanda died at Galra hands. 

He tells Iverson everything that happened to him since the first battle with the Galra. Iverson listens with a concentrated face. The woman takes notes. 

When he’s done, she tells Iverson that they should proceed with caution. He could be a clone. 

Adam didn’t even know the Galra could clone people.

He wants to defend himself, but Iverson has already made his decision. He wants to speed up the identification process in all hospitals in every liberated area. There are probably more pilots believed dead who were Galra prisoners the whole time. And he wants them all moved to the Garrison. The infirmary is short staffed there too, but they’re their people, and besides, the local hospitals are probably glad about everyone they can take off their hands. 

Iverson and the woman leave, but not before Iverson’s told him that he’s glad to have him back.

The transfer is uneventful. They put him into a room that fits four people, but with him is now housing six. Orange curtains are separating the beds, and something about the Garrison orange all around him wakes him up inside.

He’s back on the Garrison compound now. Takashi is on the Garrison compound too. They’re so close, and his brain won’t stop running. After everything he really should have different priorities than the man that left him almost eight years ago for a two year mission into space that was only going to steal years from his life that he didn’t have. But he can’t stop thinking about him. 

Later the woman comes again, asking him to repeat his story for an official mission report. She types it all down and asks him to sign it.

His hand can barely hold the pen, but he does. 

Shiro finds out Adam is alive the day they release him from the infirmary. 

Iverson is there when the doctor clears him, holding his pad in his hand. 

When the doctor is gone, he hands it to him. It’s a mission report. 

Iverson summarizes it for him. The woman was a pilot in the first battle against the Galra, where she died. Her name is on the memorial. But they found her in a hospital after the liberation of Plath City. Her jet was hit in the wing and crashed to earth. She made it out before the whole thing went up in flames and has been a Galra prisoner ever since. 

There will be more, Iverson says, they’ll be all over the world, working in Galra labor camps. 

The news sends Shiro’s heart racing, because if this woman survived, Adam might have too. Adam might still be out there. He doesn’t know what that means for him or for him-and-Adam, but alone the thought of seeing Adam again is enough to make him want to weep. 

Before he can ask Iverson if there are any news, Iverson smiles down on him and swipes up on his pad. I thought this one might interest you, personally, captain, he says. 

It’s another mission report, but this one has Adam’s name at the top. He’s crying before he even read the first words, because this means Adam’s alive. Adam’s alive and- Adam’s alive. Period. His brain can’t think further. 

He reads the whole thing twice, because this is too good to be true and he doesn’t believe it the first time. 

Near death in an exploding fighter jet. Galra prisoner. Torture. Labor camp. It’s awful, but at the end of it Adam could tell about it, because he’s alive.

Iverson informs him that the Atlas crew is expecting him in the morning to oversee repairs and that Sam has some improvement ideas, but the most important information he gives Shiro as he leaves is where to find Adam. 

He’s in the infirmary, just like Shiro. His legs carry him to the room before his brain can catch up with the fact that he’s fresh out of the infirmary, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. 

Does he really want to go see Adam like this?

Then again, does he have anything else? His space suits are too formal. He could put on the Garrison uniform. Shower first, maybe. Does it even matter? 

Yes, he decides, it matters. 

He turns around, signing out of the infirmary and heading to the quarters given to the Voltron crew. The rooms are empty, the paladins still in the infirmary and Coran working on the Atlas. Where Romelle is he has no idea. 

He showers, gets dressed, and then he gets caught up in the mirror. He’s had a while to get used to the scar across his nose, to his missing arm. The hair less so, and the arm is new too, but it’s still no surprise. But it will be to Adam. Adam, who hasn’t seen him in eight years. Adam, whom he left eight years ago, for Kerberos. He doesn’t regret Kerberos, but he regrets leaving Adam. He’s missed Adam. He’s got no idea what to say to Adam now. 

In the end he tears himself away from the mirror and marches himself to the infirmary, because he has to do this. He needs to see Adam to believe that he’s really alive. He needs to go, even if he’ll only to be told that they’re over. But it’s been eight years, and they need to talk. 

He pushes the door open apprehensively. Inside it’s six beds, separated by curtains. Adam’s the second one on the right. He slips into the tiny cubicle created by the walls of orange. 

The man in the bed seems asleep the first moment, but when Shiro steps closer to him, his eyes snap open. He looks horrible, stick thin, a skeleton with barely any flesh. His cheeks are sunken, and a scraggly stubble clings to it. His hair is patchy and incredibly short, and it’s clear it would look worse if someone hadn’t shaved and cut it. The man’s eyes are the same color Adam’s had been, except that where Adam’s usually glinted with life, these eyes were tired.

But they gleam with recognition. The man’s voice is weak and rough, and Shiro can’t tell if it’s an exclamation or a statement: Takashi. Imperceptibly a small smile makes it onto the man’s face.

His apprehension breaks, and when he says his name, it comes out as a sob: Adam!

Takashi is by his bed in seconds, grabbing his hand, squeezing it hard. Adam tries squeezing back, but it’s weak. But Takashi smiles at his effort, and it’s all worth it. 

I thought you were dead, he says, eyes shining with tears.

He shushes Adam as he starts to explain. He’s read the report. He knows. Adam should save his strength. 

Your arm, Adam says instead. Sam Holt had told them about that, but still, Adam had envisioned something different. Something at least solid.

Takashi shakes his head, chuckling. It’s a new development. I used to have a different one.

No shit, Adam wants to say, but talking his awful. Instead he coughs out a laugh. 

Tell me.

And Takashi does. He talks about everything that’s happened since Kerberos first, then Voltron, the other Paladins and the Alteans. He talks about things they’ve seen, people they’ve met. The universe. Adam reacts without saying much, and before they know it, they’ve spent the whole afternoon talking. They don’t talk about them, but they don’t have to right now. They’ve got time.

I’ll be working on the Atlas all day tomorrow, Takashi says before he leaves, but I could come by afterwards, if you want to?

The offer hits Adam somewhere he’d thought his body had gone numb, reminding him that there are people outside this room, a society, a tomorrow that he’s part of. It makes him realize that after everything he’s been through, all the pain and the suffering, he survived. He’s still alive, and whether  or not he and Takashi make it, he’s got a life out there, waiting for him. A future.

I’d like that, he answers.