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utterlyazriel · 9 months

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an eternity, my love

eep! this is a bit longer than the last at just over 6k forgive me... but thank so much for all love on the first piece 🥹 and thank u for all your lovely ideas! i hope this does sum justice to the nonnie who asked for further miscommuncation... <3 part one here but u don’t need to read it to read this :)

How does one even begin to decide what to wear to dinner with a person, the person, who matched your soul perfectly?

When your friend had hunted her way through clothing stores of Velaris and stashed away a custom dress — far fancier than anything you owned — for the first date with her mate, you had laughed at her.

Now, staring at your closet in only your undergarments, you were beginning to envy her preparation.

Seriously, how are you supposed to choose?

You pick up your latest addition to your closet, a glossy dress the colour of red wine that reveals the length of your legs and planes of your collarbones— perfect for a night out dancing.

With a grimace, you place it back on the hanger. It was far more scandalous than you would want to be on a first date, even though — well, you’re sure that, being mates, Azriel would like anything you wore.

You heave a sigh. An uneasy prickle beneath your skin has you crossing your arms; it was almost alarming how badly you wanted to impress him. But… mating bonds were rare and powerful.

Almost as if you had summoned it — in fact, maybe you had — there’s a soft shimmer in your chest. Your beautiful glow, the bridge between you and Azriel humming to life. In a way you can’t explain, it’s as though you can feel him soothe across your mind, his soft touch full of assurances.

He’s comforting you. All your emotions must be shooting down the bond without your permission. Gods, that would take some getting used to. You wonder if he can feel your resounding pang of embarrassment as well.

You do your best to push back something less nervous, more of your excitement for the night to come — and you know, without even seeing him, he’s smiling.

After another moment of fussing, you decide on something simpler than your glossy night dress.

Comfortable black slacks with plenty of flow to them and a shirt you thought was one of your nicer ones. With the slightest touch ups to your makeup, you rush yourself out the door before you convince yourself to change all over again.

The Sidra keeps you company, a rush of water beside you as you wind through the streets of Velaris, eyes flicking up to take in the darkening sky. The sun was sinking below the mountain tops, rays tickling across the ridges.

And while you could admit that Velaris was very beautiful in the daytime, you were a true Night court citizen— and believed its true beauty came out at night.

Somehow, despite the lack of concrete plans made as you had ushered the male out of your office, you knew resolutely that you would be able to find him. You weren’t even worried about the timing of it all. It was… what was the word? Absurd. Insane. Utterly, breathtakingly incredible.

Sure enough, as you exit the alley and round the corner, your eyes falling on the sage green building you reside in for work, there he is; waiting for you.

You inhale a sharp breath. A thousand cells in your body fizz, hum, and glow, at the mere sight of him.

It's easy to understand just how he had garnered his dark reputation, the image of him every bit of the Spymaster of the Night Court — a title like Shadowsinger has never been so fitting for him.

He’s blurred at the edges, a thousand tiny wisps that blend him into the shadows of the nighttime. His wings stretch up behind, towering over his already tall frame, black as ink, and beneath his darkened attire, you can spot his tan skin. Your eyes drag up his neck, tracing his adam's apple, along the scruff of his sharp jaw until you reach his hazel eyes.

Your heart burns.

In the depth of it, you know, if he doesn't love you, he will undo you completely.

It's wholly terrifying to come face to face with — the intensity of the mating bond scorching through your mind like a fierce wind, burning embers left in its wake.

It's enough to make you pause, the definitive thought that doing this, offering him your heart and trusting him, could very well lead to your ruin.

Your chest squeezes tightly. You let your eyes drink in the Illyrian, the Male who waited so patiently for all those years and was prepared to wait years more, if you had asked.

Focusing, you pluck up that golden thread in your chest and hold it tightly. It heats and melts, hotter and hotter, and you know that any fear you have, you can conquer to be with him.

Ruination be damned.

—

Azriel notices you the moment your frame exits the alley, notices the moment you pause — has been able to feel you drawing nearer to him this whole time. Your every emotion is transparent to him through the bond between you, whether you’re aware of it or not.

You must not have the tightened mental shields he had come to be so familiar with over all his years. It makes sense; you are no warrior. Mental walls over your mind are not something you have ever had to concern yourself with.

Azriel vows it to be one of the things he teaches you. You deserved the privacy of your emotions, at the very least.

But... for now, Azriel can feel them all. It's why, as you round the corner, Azriel can feel your eyes on him and then, then he feels it.

The wash of fear that spills over your bond like icy water.

An old enemy rises within him. He grits his teeth, even as he feels the fear from you slide away and he tries to ignore the sting from an unhealed wound. But self-deprecation never seems to drown, no matter how much he tries to suffocate it within him.

He shifts his hands, relieved suddenly to have them covered up beneath gloves. His wings tuck in tighter, if possible, and he wills his shadows sternly to contain themselves. Something in the slightest baring of his teeth has them obeying. They shoot to his sides and make themselves scarce.

All this in time to greet you pleasantly as you bounce into view, sidling up before him with a shy grin. It's only been a few hours since he got his proper look at you and yet, you're every bit as breathtaking as you were earlier. More so, in fact.

It feels as though Azriel has never seen the sky before and you before him, are the first sunset of his life. You look so pretty that Azriel could probably gaze at you all evening if you so allowed him to.

And then, he remembers the pang of fear.

He doesn't waste time mulling over which detail of him had made you afraid — only that he would dim or change or hide any part of himself to stop it from happening again.

"Hello, again," You say, your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You have to tilt your head back to look up at his handsome face. His shadows swirl around him and despite his strict instructions, one still slips away to touch you.

You don't notice it circling your ankle, tentative and shy.

"Hello, again." Azriel echoes your words, unable to help his own glimmer of joy.

He wants to offer you his arm, his hand. Can feel it within him, down to the very marrow of his bones, the craving to be closer to you, to touch you, however he can.

Azriel swallows heavily and does what he has done over decades, over centuries; he takes the wanting and pushes it down, down, down.

The two of you begin to walk, side by side, with no destination in mind. Aimless and content at the same time.

Azriel doesn't need the bond to see the flittering of nerves hidden in your expression. The shadow still circulating around your ankle climbs higher, like it wants to comfort you too.

Azriel wills it to still, desperate to not scare you again. He drops his shoulders from his usual warrior posture in hopes of making himself a little smaller.

“You don’t need to be nervous.” He says reassuringly.

You steal a glimpse at him, your smile breaking into a grin. Your nerves are still potent but less so.

“Who says I’m nervous?”

Azriel smiles gently, his eyes dancing across your face as he reads your lie easily. “I do."

There's a scrunch between your eyebrows then, like he had seen during his time in your office earlier. Azriel places a hand on his chest, over the place where the glowing tug is strongest.

"I can feel it.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at his gloved hand, the cogs in your brain spinning and turning at a rapid rate. Still strolling, your hand rises slowly and touches to the same spot on your own chest. Azriel can feel his heart stutter at the sight, you holding the spot that connected you to him undeniably.

"You can?" Your gaze lifts to his face, puzzlement adorning your features. You frown and focus for a moment, staring hard into the distance — and Azriel feels a sudden twinge of disgust through the thread.

"Did you feel that?" You ask, eyes wide and curious.

Azriel nods wordlessly and he can't help but ask. "What is it you were thinking of?"

You look embarrassed for a moment, eyes averting to the ground. You chuckle awkwardly and tuck your hair behind your ears, glancing back up at the Male with a sheepish smile.

"Brussels sprouts."

Azriel blinks once, twice, and then has to turn to hide his smile. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough. It doesn't work, given how you make a small noise of indignation. He turns back, his politest expression on.

"Don't laugh at me!" You whine, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder. Your touch radiates through his body like a drop of golden sun, blazing warm.

"You're right," Azriel hums, his lips twitching as he presses back his smile. "My apologies, my lady. This is important knowledge I should be filing away. I swear on my life I will feed you no brussels sprouts this evening, or any in the future."

He wants to nudge your shoulder with his own, just to touch you, wants to reach out as easily as you had. But his shadows slip before his self-control does, skittering out along onto your shoulder and giving you a small shock and Azriel remembers himself. His fists clench tightly at his sides.

You walk side by side all evening, like two planets in orbit — close, oh so close, but never quite touching.

—

The first date you share is nothing short of… wonderful.

Resolutely and overwhelming good, the entire date you can't help but feel as though your very soul is singing, a thousand particles blithesome at the nearness you get to share with Azriel. He's surprising in a manner of ways.

Firstly, he's terribly quiet.

Next to him, you look quite the blabber-mouth, no matter how much he insists he enjoys it. His dark eyes are intense as they watch you closely, soaking in every word that passes your lips, and yet, beneath it, his dry sense of humour comes out to play. There's the occasional tease, almost as if just to see if he could make you flustered. (He could, easily).

With a Male as beautiful as him, suited to your very being in every way, it's nearly unbearable how much you ache for him. How much his very attention creeps down your neck and makes every nerve along your spine tingle.

You know it will take some time to get used to his unwavering and devoted attention.

There’s… just one small, itty-bitty, tiny problem.

He doesn’t touch you.

Throughout that whole first evening, you had noticed it somewhat— a flex in his gloved hands, a moment where his wing strayed too close only to be pulled back in a flash, even his shadows, darting out to be near you but never quite touching you as they had on that first meeting.

His hands reach out but they do not find you.

At first, you believed it was a first date thing. Azriel was, first and foremost, a gentleman, and you thought perhaps, his skirting touch, like his hand lingering over the small of your back but not touching it, was to be polite. Courteous and gracious.

Then, you had seen him just two days after that date, all bundled up in your giddiness that it had managed to slip your mind.

The two of you had spent the day together, traversing through the market — before you quickly found a quieter space for your mate as it became clear that large bustling areas, such as the Palace of Threads and Jewels, were not so suited to his tastes.

As you had tugged him out of the crowd, laughing over your shoulder at how he fought to keep his broad wings from knocking into anyone else, the thought suddenly snapped back into you.

Though you yearned to link his arm with your own, to interlace your fingers with his, you remembered his hesitance. Remembered the hover of his gloved hand.

And so, you dropped his arm the moment you cleared the crowd.

A hurt warbled deep within you to so do and knowing you were not the deftest at schooling your expressions, you hid your face so you could contain your childish reactions. You huffed at your own upset. What matter is it if your mate has no affinity to touch?

Truly, it was a miracle to have found a mate at all, you tried to scold yourself. You would not take him for granted for a moment, not even if it was not quite the picture of perfection you had envisioned.

Rooted deep in you was a truth; you could abide by this, abstain to his level of comfort for years, for millennia, if it made him happier.

The fabric of the mating bond, connecting the two of you intrinsically, made it so you would not want it any other way.

It's a decidedly Azriel thing.

He always wears the gloves, he never touches you more than he has to, and he's got... this really specific look when you're doing a terrible job of hiding your emotions.

As he had vowed, Azriel had set about teaching you how to build the mental walls up within your mind, brick by brick by brick. While it would help you hold against daemati if that loathsome situation should ever arise, it would also shield you from your mate.

It would protect you from having your emotions ripped out for him to see, no matter how much you held back — if it was in your mind, it would travel down the bond.

So, the wall had to be built. It had been tedious, tricky, and tiring work. Yet every time you would feel yourself ready to throw in the towel, Azriel would lean in closer, his hazel eyes softened, and his hand resting upon your arm, thumb swatching up and down, to encourage you.

"I know it is tiresome," He had mused, that faint smile twitching at his lips as you scowled at the ground. His thumb was still moving, still drawing light circles on your bicep. The skin beneath it blazed with warmth. "But it is worth it, that I can promise. You deserve this privacy, my dear. I would never wish to take it from you."

My dear, my dear, my dear— the words had sunk into your sternum and bloomed, bright and golden.

It's enough to hold onto, his kind affections. The sweet shape of his mouth when it says your name. The way his lashes kiss in the corner when he can't hold back his smile.

It's enough to soothe yourself over. To take the lack of touch on the chin and swallow down your desire for more.

It's why— why you can't help yourself— why you couldn't tear your eyes away from Azriel's hand where it touches Cassian's arm.

You're meeting his family today, which you've quickly realised doesn't mean his mother or father but instead means... the literal Highlord of the Night Court.

There are several warriors crowded around the cramped entrance room to the River House. Each of them is taller than you, and two of them with the very same huge wingspans that you've come to revere on your own mate.

Your usual talkativeness has been dimmed in your shock, though, really, it shouldn't be such a surprise. Azriel is a force to be reckoned with, honed over decades, and the Spymaster of the Night Court. You know these things. The company he keeps makes sense.

Somehow... still, seeing them all together leaves you strikingly speechless. The legion that protects your home — a family.

Rhysand greets you first, dapper in his dark attire, his violet eyes equal parts calculating and welcoming as he steps forward and offers his hand.

Despite the fact you have never bowed to him before, you still have to repress the urge. His power is overwhelming, the very night lapping at his edges and you're suddenly very grateful to be meeting him as a friend and not as a foe.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rhysand's voice purrs out, soft as silk. When you place your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a polite kiss to the back of your hand.

"Any friend of Azriel's is a friend of mine."

You can feel your own heart thundering in your chest. Azriel hovers behind you, his presence soothing in itself. You can't see it but his wings are outstretched towards you, cocooning around you ever so slightly. A shadow hovers behind your shoulder, just out of sight.

"I— the pleasure is mine, my Highlord." You manage to make yourself speak.

You almost wish you hadn't when your words inspire a burst of laughter from one of the others behind Rhysand, the other Illyrian. He's tall, his hair dark but longer than your mate's own.

As your hand is dropped, Rhysand turns to scowl at the Male laughing, and you only grow further perplexed when he gives a whack against the other's shoulder. They begin to squabble for a moment — and you don't even hear Azriel move until he's speaking, his lips right by your ear.

"You'll have to forgive Cassian." His voice is low, raspy in a way that sends a zing down your spine. You shiver lightly. "He can be well-mannered at the best of times. But I promise he isn't laughing at you."

The two Males seem to tune back into Azriel's words, even though they had been whispered for you specifically.

"It's true!" The Illyrian, Cassian you now know, pipes up. He brandishes a devilishly handsome grin at you, with his hands held up in defense. "I apologise. It just still makes me laugh to see someone address this one so formally."

You blink. "But... he is the Highlord."

Azriel speaks again, bent over still to talk in your ear, but much less of a whisper this time. "Rhys is our Highlord but he does not bother with such formalities."

"And," Cassian interjects, lugging a punch into Rhy's shoulder, much like the other had done to him not a moment before. "Before he was the o'mighty Highlord, he was our friend."

Cassian says the word o'mighty with such an air of sarcasm that you can't help but glance at Rhys, sure he wouldn't take such disrespect. But around you, there are only easy grins.

"Might we move to somewhere more comfortable than the doorway," Azriel speaks up from behind you, his voice dry. "Unless that is, you're all hoping to do one-on-one greetings with her?"

There it is, the dry sense of humour you've come to adore. The group before you seems to grumble, as if they were quite keen on the one-on-one meetings but begin to move through the house.

One of the group dips back to walk beside you and you do your best not to repeat your past mistakes, even as your eyes widen almost comically. Azriel chuckles silently to himself, feeling your polite astonishment down the bond.

"It's so great to finally meet you.” Feyre, your Highlady greets you, her pretty face rife with glee. She seems genuinely very happy to make your acquaintance. "Azriel has told me all about you."

You stumble in surprise, your eyes casting back to Azriel behind the pair of you. His eyes are fixed on Feyre, narrowed at her blatant betrayal, his shadows swirling around him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and you smother a laugh.

When his eyes shift over to you, you're positively delighted at how his cheeks have turned the lightest shade of ruby.

"Feyre is very persuasive when she wants to be." He murmurs, almost grumbling. You turn back to the Highlady and she grins at you, devious and captivating all at once.

It’s a whirlwind once you reach one of the many living rooms, each member of Azriel’s family all very eager to shake your hand.

Cassian grips it firm, his grin still on the side of wicked as he tells you he’s been waiting years to find the woman who could contain Azriel. Nesta, his mate as you find out, is a fierce kind of pretty with a grip as strong as Cassian’s. She tells you welcome to the family with the smile of a shark.

Morrigon is next, breathtakingly gorgeous, and every bit as charismatic as Azriel had described. You don't catch the glimpse between Mor and Cassian, not the beat of relief they both feel at your arrival in their lives— in Azriel's life.

It's swallowed up in her words, going a mile a minute. She jumps about, like popcorn in a pan, overly keen to finally speak to the one whom the Mother deemed worthy of Azriel’s heart. Where are you from? What do you do? How did you meet?

“Mor,” Azriel warns, after her twelfth consecutive question about your life. He hasn’t moved from his protective position behind you, close enough you can feel the heat of his body. His wings had brushed your shoulder just once.

“Yeah, Mor,” Rhys jeers. He nudges his cousin in the side playfully and Cassian snickers behind the group. “Give the girl some time to breathe.”

Even with all of Azriel's masterclass on who you would be meeting, it's still terribly overwhelming just trying to keep track of them all. They're each such strong spirits, each with seemingly a thousand battles in their past and far more years with Azriel.

On top of this is the fact you met both your Highlord and Highlady so casually in one single afternoon. It's difficult to not be daunted by the group that is so clearly intertwined with each other on a deeper level altogether— bonded by devastation and choosing each other through love.

Try as you might, you can feel the seed of doubt, of insecurity, make a home between your ribs.

You clamp down the shields you've spent the last few weeks learning, building the wall up and holding it tight. It's silly to feel dismayed because these Fae, these friends, know your mate better than you do.

Azriel had told you he had been waiting for you for five hundred years. For the first time since you've met him, you wonder if he was ever disappointed.

And then— then, you see it.

Azriel's hand on Cassian's arm. Then the half embrace they share, a hand on each other's neck as Cassian grins, wild and fierce, and presses his forehead against Azriel's own; brothers, sharing a moment of euphoria at the other finding his long-deserved happiness.

You should be soaking in the smile Azriel hides from you too often, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. But instead, you can't see past it, can't stop the loop in your own mind as it prints a fact over and over and over.

It isn't an Azriel thing; it's a you thing.

He doesn't touch you.

The mental walls in your mind feel paper-thin as a fresh kind of agony ripples through your chest. The soft rejection of a mate stings, a papercut on your very heart. You can feel it warble through you and know, terribly, the exact moment that Azriel feels it too.

His head whips around, his dark shadows that surround him suddenly spinning and flitting faster than before— a couple dive across the room to you.

You stand up and the chair scrapes noisily beneath you.

"I—" You say before you realise you haven't planned an exit or an excuse in the slightest. Azriel's gaze burns into you. You turn to Feyre instead, who had been talking across from you when you rudely stood up.

"I'm so sorry, I just—" Some excuse, any excuse! "I think I— left the stove on."

It's a lie. A complete utter lie that fools no one in the room as you retreat from it hastily. None of them try to stop you though, which you're thankful for. Each of them watches, every expression slightly concerned as you hurry out of the room, your feet walking backward rapidly until you bump into the door frame.

You pass through it with your eyes on the floor, knowing that all of the eyes are on you. You know the ones you can feel searing into your soul are Azriel's.

You leave the River House. You walk along the Sidra, your steps hurried and your chin tucked low. It hurts. It hurts the feeling inside you. A tear streaks down your cheek, unbidden, and collects on your jaw. You wipe it away meanly.

The sight of your apartment door is an overwhelming comfort, one that has you sighing aloud as you rush up to it, your fingers already digging around in your pockets for your key.

And like always, you never hear him coming.

"What happened?" Azriel asks, his voice almost pained.

You give a little yelp of surprise and whip around, remembering half a second later that there's still evidence on your face of your tears. Azriel grows characteristically still, his hazel eyes fixed on yours as you sniffle for a moment, aggravation beginning to creep in.

He could feel everything from you and you got... what? Whatever he deemed fit to offer? How is that fair?

His usually wispy shadows are inkier than usual, almost tornado-ing around his shoulders. They keep leaping out towards you before being caught in an invisible net, a barrier between you and them.

Even as Azriel remains motionless, his eyes are the opposite—they jump around, searching, hunting, begging to find the cause of your pain. Had it been one of his friends?

"Please," He tries his words again.

His heart throbs painfully when you finally find your key and turn your back on him without a word, unlocking your door and pressing your way inside. He follows quickly, wings tucked in tight, unable to keep his shadows at his side this time. They whiz to you, circling your ankles protectively.

"Please," Azriel says, an anguished growl to his words. "What hurt you? I will— my friends, if they said something— if it was someone, I hunt them down and make it right for you."

You inhale sharply and when you speak, your tone is cold in a way you have never used before with Azriel. You say the words without thinking.

"It would be impossible to hunt yourself, Azriel."

Regret howls through you like a hurricane the moment you say the words. You don't mean to be mean, jealous, or whatever unseemly emotion you can't stop from sprouting in your chest, growing in size, tangling into your heartstrings like twisted gnarled vines. It hurts.

You turn back to him, mouth open. No words come out.

Hurt is slashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his shadows tucked in tight. It's as though he's blended into the very air, the wispy edge of him threatening to retreat into his own shadows.

All his emotions on display just for a moment, before they're schooled away. Tucked away, hidden, not for you to see.

Inside, your hurricane howls again, this time in pain.

You can tell he feels it, even as you mentally gather your bricks. It isn't fair. How can he have every bit of you and you get what he pleases to return?

You want to know him completely, want to see every part of his rugged, weathered soul, and love him anyway. It's an untold type of agony to have him deny you.

"My love," His feet finally move, his wings almost dragging on the floor as he steps forward, slowly, as though he was afraid he might spook you.

"Tell me how to fix this pain." He pleads. His gloved hands are held out, palms up and suddenly, he looks nothing like a warrior. Just a Male, afraid of losing what is most dear to him. You shake your head, like a child, and keep building your brick wall.

"Please don’t keep this from me," He takes another step forward, his shadows sent awry as they dart across to you. You can feel them on your calves, on your arms, feel the tiny kisses they leave. Azriel speaks again, voice low. "My love, I can feel your pain.”

You can't help how you screw your eyes closed, the ache in your chest unbearable— made worse when you know he can feel it too.

"That is my problem." You utter the words quietly, eyes still clenched shut, knowing he can hear you. He takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat of his enormous frame, his wings bracketing around you. "I cannot hide anything from you."

Azriel makes a noise, a punched-out wounded sound that reverberates down the bond.

"My love," He murmurs for the third time. Down the bond, you can feel his sweet love, his golden gentle feelings travelling along to assure you. "I would not wish for you to hide anything from me."

“But you hide everything from me." You whine, eyes finally crinkling open. Azriel stares down at you, his eyes softer than they've ever been. You can see the hurt swimming in them, the hurt you've caused. Still, you speak.

"You hide your emotions. You hide your touch, yet you give it willingly to your friends." You share each ugly thought with him, whispered as you gaze into his face to search for your answers.

Lifting your hands, you curl your fingers around his wrists tentatively. Azriel swallows heavily, his eyes dancing down to where you're touching him. You slide your hands forward, dragging the pads of your fingers over his pulse, along his palm, til your hands are holding his gloved ones.

"Is there some test I don't know about?" You ask, your focus on your intertwined hands. "Is there— do I have to earn this?"

"No," Azriel chokes out the word suddenly. You look up at him. He clears his throat and you feel his hands grip yours back, surer and stronger than you had. "No, I'm sorry. There is no test, nothing to prove you deserving of this. I just..."

His words trail off and you watch as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if gathering his courage. His hands slide from yours, pulled backward and you nearly feel the urge to cry once more— before you realise he's removing his gloves.

The skin of them is warped, you realise acutely with horror. The skin of his hands is swirled and mottled, an injury long healed but scarred for eternity. Azriel is watching your face closely, holding his hands close to his chest as though he was prepared to hide them away at the first flicker of fear.

You're grateful for the link between and all your shoddy attempts at blocking him out. Your love and your unwavering devotion drifts along the bond.

Azriel shudders, his wings giving the tiniest shiver. Slowly, gently, he reaches out towards you. You feel his hands, the unruly scarred feel of his skin sliding along your jaw to hold it tenderly. He has never held you like this before.

He cradles your face gently — like his hands have never held weapons of war, like they aren't twisted and marred with a memory he can't forget, like they're worthy of holding something so precious.

Azriel holds you as if you're holy — and he's come to kneel at your altar.

"I was afraid of what you would think." He admits. His voice is hoarse, gravelly as he fights off the lump in his throat. "I— on the first day we met, I felt your fear along the bond and—"

"It was not of you." You interrupt him, your hands jumping up to cover his own where they hold you. Azriel inhales sharply, eyes darting to watch.

But you pay him no heed, the palm of your hand covering his like a lover would. You let your thumb soothe up at down the ridges of his skin. You let your love ripple along the bond.

"It was not fear of you, Azriel." You repeat, your voice soft. His eyes are still fixed on your joined hands. His wings have begun to pick up, no longer drooping behind his back— you're not sure if he even notices.

"It was fear for how strongly I already felt for you." You lean into his hand and Azriel lets you, lets the length of your nose nuzzle into the touch of his hands — something no one in all his years of living had ever done before.

"It was fear that you already could ruin me," The words are murmured. "And that I would let you."

You whisper his name to pull his wide-eyed gaze from where his hands touch you and his hazel eyes burn into yours. Every whitened scar on his skin, every eyelash, the adorable pinch between his eyebrows; you drink it all in and smile at him. Azriel, your mate.

"Azriel, I chose this despite that fear. I choose you.”

Azriel quivers at the words, at your unflinching tone and suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, time moving around you, untouching, with such a perfect grace.

“I choose you too,” He murmurs, an emotion so strong a fire of possessiveness streaks down the bond. This time, you can feel his wall melt away, allowing you access to all he feels — his mountain of fear and his melting relief.

“Forgive me—” He begins and you laugh without meaning to, cutting him off.

“Stop,” you say, the word light and as pretty as your grin. “We keep doing this to ourselves, tying ourselves in knots over and over.”

Azriel laughs, his lips twitching into a smile as he allows himself to stroke his thumb lovingly over your cheek. The way you melt beneath it, your lashes fluttering and heart burning so brightly he can feel it in his own chest too— Azriel knows this longing will long outlive his body.

“We do,” He agrees. He dips his head a little lower, probably the only apology you’ll let him have, and inhales shakily. His hands shift across your face, down to hold your chin, his fingers pressed together tightly to hide the way they quiver.

“Then let me apologise in another way,” He murmurs, his voice closer to playful. “In a way I’ve been selfishly depriving you of.”

And when he kisses you, it’s with a reverence that softens all your corners.

His lips are plush and sweet, and with the way he dedicates himself to your bottom lip, you can’t help how you sigh into his mouth. He finds home in the curve of your mouth.

It’s delirious the way he kisses once, twice, three times like he’s hungry for something found only in your lips.

Your hands stagger forward, leaving his own to wind over around his neck. Your fingers curl up, raking through the hair on the nape of his neck — feeling the shiver that travels up his spine, his wings giving a little flare out.

He kisses you breathless, one hand abandoning your jaw to wrap snugly around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

When he pulls back, something within you glows molten gold at the panting that leaves his lips. He’s gazing at you, his hazel eyes alight in a way you haven’t quite seen before. His wings shift behind his shoulders, curling forward to wrap the two of you together, not quite touching.

Your heart thrills. You grin, your lips still just an inch apart as Azriel nudges forward, his own twitching in that way when he fights his smile. His lips brush yours, his smile barely held back.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” He says, sweet and low, allowing the smile to finally pull his pretty mouth up at the corners.

“Or should I make it up to you a little more?”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, chaste and gentle.

“Mmm,” your eyes are bright as they peer up at him, full of playful mirth and adoring affection. “You're forgiven but... I think you should make it up to me, just a little more.”

Azriel willingly obliges, his smile as sweet as the moonlight.

—

some people i thought might want to be tagged :)

@strangerstilinski @astoriaviviane @lana08 @florence-end @lportes-22 @torrick17 @florencemtrash @sidthedollface2 @seafrost-fangirl @goldenmagnolias @jeweline16 @meshellexplosionmurder @michellexgriffey @susiekern @toobsessedsstuff @fxckmiup @littlebookbengal @elenapril0502 @glitterypirateduck @hnyclover @technoelfie @itsapunklife @coffeecares

#it got very long... i'm sorry!#we can't talk about bad miscommunication and then me not set up valid reasons for miscommunication tho #i can't DO IT #azriel a big softie in this one...#i mean he always is :)#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel hurt/comfort #miscommunication #idiots in luv <3 #i need a writing tag.....

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theminecraftbee · 10 months

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actually while i’m on an analysis and also bigb train i want to talk a little about the bigb/cleo relationship because. it’s VERY EASY to just read it as “bigb betrayed cleo that one time three seasons ago and cleo has never forgiven him for this” but there’s way more to it than that and it’s so fascinating i want to shake them around like maracas.

like, okay, the initial betrayal is as much a failure to communicate as it is an actual betrayal. cleo says that if bigb had just TOLD HER she would have let him, and I believe this (loyalty is an extremely consistent cleo trait). however JUST EARLIER THAT SESSION she’d also been talking about how she wouldn’t trust someone with the boogeyman curse and can’t believe someone would betray their allies. bigb heard that, decided he couldn’t tell cleo (because she’d hate him for it), and panicked himself right into a corner where he ended up doing the thing that was WAY WORSE for that relationship. also left out is that part of why cleo got that mad wasn’t even bigb’s fault; she was ALSO mad because lizzie and ren sided with him over her, and she felt betrayed by everyone at once. which she then pinned on bigb. meanwhile, while bigb apologized, he never let go of the idea that he'd had no other choice, and never really addressed the unstated hurt of 'cleo also felt like her friends had been turned against her', so it never rang as sincere to cleo. so like, more going on there than just a betrayal!

but like, let’s talk about their relationship after that, shall we?

on cleo’s end, she’s a character who tends to hold on to relationships across seasons, for better and for worse. the widow’s alliance basically never ending; martyn and cleo and their inability to be normal about each other; cleo and etho’s quiet understanding; and, as one of these important tentpoles, bigb and cleo being unable to trust each other. she carried that hurt with her into the few interactions they had in double life, and that in turn helped to color everything else. see, cleo doesn't just hold on to relationships; she holds grudges, and bigb is the ultimate target of that. unlike some of her potential grudges, she's never had a scenario where she and bigb were on the same side in order to temper the grudge. she's also never gotten the boogey curse herself, making it even harder for her to temper it and understand.

so, even after things like limited life where she's started to be less Immediately Angry the moment she feels betrayed (thank you scar for being kind of a moron and getting cleo that lesson), she still holds on to the last life version of bigb in her head. also, because of that, it makes it easy for her to just... continue perpetuating that. she shuns bigb and assumes he has some reason she needs revenge again. that, in turn, pushes bigb to doing another thing she needs revenge for, so she tries to get it, so they keep spiraling downwards in a cycle of mistrust, because cleo has also made herself untrustworthy to bigb.

meanwhile, on bigb's end... he tried to apologize and she wouldn't take it! she sees all of this as an irrational grudge on cleo's part, and there's been very little to discount that. but also because bigb has a tendency to go off and do his own thing and hold himself apart from people, he has made very little effort to meaningfully fix this. in fact, because he assumes cleo will continue to hold a grudge, he continues to treat her a bit like an enemy, continuing to provoke her at multiple opportunities.

he can't make that relationship WORSE, after all, so there's no reason NOT TO continue to mess with her. she'll never trust him, so there aren't real consequences if he keeps burning her, because the only consequence is that she'll just continue to never trust him, right? it's a simple relationship! and in some ways it's comforting, even; cleo is someone he can never mess up with, because that bridge is already burnt.

and ironically? this makes their relationship surprisingly stable. they will KEEP ON sticking knives in each other, of course. even when they don't have a good reason for it, cleo will assume bigb must have done something and bigb will assume cleo will hate him anyway. but in turn, i think they VERY MUCH know where they stand with each other. and tragically, that means neither of them have an incentive to try to fix this. they're both very, very entrenched in how they see each other now, and either of them will see any attempted olive branches as another place for everything to go wrong. they're cleo and bigb, who don't trust each other because bigb killed her one time, forever. that's who they are. that's how they see each other. and it's not just because that happened; it's because they keep reinforcing it, over and over and over again, in a way that makes communicating that they could stop nearly impossible.

that and i think cc!bigb and cc!cleo out of character really enjoy continuing to have their cubitos have a stupid irrational grudge on each other because they think it's funny but that's unrelated to the character analysis,

#secret life smp #(not really any spoilers here actually so not tagging that)#zombiecleo #bigbst4tz2 #trafficblr #this got. VERY LONG. sorry about that #i'm just a cleo main so when i started thinking about bigb i also started thinking about cleo #and started thinking about. at the begining of this episode here they were in this place again.#enemies by continuously reinforcing that they're enemies.

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year

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The Agency's Older Brother: or, Ranpo's Character Development

I want to talk about Ranpo and the development he goes through in the series, because for as much as Ranpo is an important member of the Agency, his story is focused on in small chunks that may not always, at first read, seem to be overly significant. In fact, Ranpo’s arc is very consistent and I’m fascinated to know where it’s building to, because he’s done a lot of growing in the series. A lot of the themes of his story are to do with responsibility and faith in others.

The Ranpo we meet at the beginning of the story is not the Ranpo we see now. The biggest change is that he’s a lot more personally involved with the struggles of the Agency members, taking it on himself to be proactive and protective, while previously he had to be pushed and bribed into helping much of the time. When did this change?

Well...

[ID: Two screenshots from a scene in Poe's introductory episode of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime. In the first screenshot, Yosano lies on the carpeted ground, an axe embedded in her chest, blood pooling around her. Ranpo is crouched beside her, supporting her shoulders with one hand and clasping her hand with the other. The second screenshot is a close up of Ranpo's distressed face. End ID.]

The thing is, it's almost easy to overlook the effect this scene had on Ranpo, because Poe’s introductory chapter/episode is such a brief one. Moreover, afterwards, Poe becomes an ally and is a bit of a silly character, so it’s easy to forget sometimes that he was a legitimate threat here - and Yosano nearly died for it. This scene was incredibly significant to Ranpo for a few notable reasons.

It’s the first time someone in the Agency was in serious trouble/died without a backup plan.

It is, unfortunately, kind of on him. (Let me be real clear here: I am not blaming Ranpo. But he probably was blaming himself and that's something to keep in mind.)

To recap: Poe pulls Ranpo into his novel out of revenge, also trapping Yosano, who went with him. Ranpo realizes that they are in a world with no abilities, and importantly, he doesn't have the glasses Fukuzawa gave him.

We know those glasses mean a lot to him. When Ranpo was at his lowest, when he was convinced the world hated him, Fukuzawa gave him those glasses and told him he had a special ability. That he had a gift that no one else did that allowed him to see the truth that no one else could. Untold Origins makes it very clear that if Fukuzawa hadn't reached out to Ranpo when he did, Ranpo may have forever been outcasted. He was a kid kept in a bubble then suddenly and rudely shoved into a world he was unprepared to cope with, where he continued to get rejected and thrown out over and over - and all this on top of the grief he felt from his parents' passing. Ranpo was bitter and terrified of people, and thought everyone was pretending to be oblivious just to hurt him. Fukuzawa saved him the only way he could, in the only way Ranpo would hear him. It's not an exaggeration to say Fukuzawa saved Ranpo's life. And, while cute, it's also telling how quickly those glasses became an intrinsic part of his identity. Only maybe twenty minutes after he first received them, he was already making little doodles of himself wearing them.

Suddenly, the glasses are gone, and Ranpo goes into a funk because he "can't activate his ability without them". Obviously, we know that isn't true, and so does Yosano. Ranpo probably, deep down, knows this too, but to admit that would be to admit the president lied to him, and to uproot the very thing that gave him the means to perceive the world in a brighter light. The reason Fukuzawa had to lie in the first place was because the truth would be to tell Ranpo that his parents lied to him, something he angrily denies could ever be the case. And now, Fukuzawa is very plainly stated to be Ranpo's adoptive father. Ranpo's parents do not lie to him. He does not want to see it - and so he doesn't. This is a recurring thing with Ranpo. For as much as he sees the truth clearly, he also chooses not to see it at times when it would be uncomfortable/go against the intuition of someone he deeply trusts and respects.

And I think it's very easy to just leave it there, and say, "Oh, Ranpo realized at the end of this chapter/episode that he didn't need the glasses, that he doesn't have an ability, and that's a key turning point" but I don't feel that's the full picture or even the focus here, especially since Ranpo still hasn't reached the point where he can properly admit it aloud, even to Yosano.

The thing is, those glasses aren't just of use to Ranpo - they have sentimental value. A heck of a lot of it, for a character who is not very sentimental. The real turning point here is that Ranpo put on Yosano's glasses in order to save her.

[ID: A screenshot of a panel from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo puts on a pair of glasses. His hair is blown out of his face and he wears an intense expression. End ID.]

Shortly before this, we are informed by Yosano that not only was the Agency specifically formed for Ranpo to make use of his talents, but also that it was Ranpo who invited her to join - which we later learn was a pivotal moment for her to start over after she was completely broken by her experiences in the war. And now, he is watching her bleed out because she had to take over. Because he couldn't solve it. And that, to Ranpo, is unacceptable.

But again, there's more to it. Ranpo is fundamentally a self-centered character - this is not a judgement; I actually love that about him. He's the center of the Agency, the (ostensibly) good guys of the series; a narcissistic guy with little in the way of sensitivity who wants to use his skills to help others. Not for some higher ideal, or because it's "right" necessarily, but because he's good at it, and because he's supposed to protect all the "babies" who can't solve things for themselves. I love it because it highlights a major theme of BSD, which is good as something you do rather than something you are, and also because it explains something about Ranpo himself.

See, if everyone in the world is a "baby" who needs Ranpo's assistance, then the people in the Agency are a little different. They're people hand-picked by Fukuzawa to support him, both through praise and through backup. Remember that Ranpo trusts Fukuzawa's judgement more than anything - this means that he expects the Agency members can handle themselves. So, in chapter 10, when Ranpo doesn't really care that Atsushi has been taken, citing that it's a "personal problem" and he should handle it, I really think this was some odd form of "Atsushi will be fine" and "why should I worry or do anything when I know he'll be fine". And in the past, this has been true - the Agency members always pull through. None of them, up until that point, have been in a situation that they couldn't eventually fix. Ranpo has a bubble of safety in the Agency, that basically amounts to a "villain of the week" type beat from his perspective, where troubles gets fixed up pretty quickly. All in a day's work.

But then Yosano dies in Poe's book, someone he actually had some level of responsibility for when he invited her to join his safe little circle in a world that had no place for people like them. And it's a direct result of Ranpo's refusal/inability to act.

In order to fix this, Ranpo uses Yosano's glasses. The lens he's seeing through has changed. The people in the Agency were initially "his" in that they were meant to support Ranpo, the special one "chosen" by Fukuzawa's glasses, the reason for the Agency's existence in the first place. But now the people in the Agency are "his" in that they are his to protect. He's their big brother they all look up to in a way, and as the big brother, he's got to take responsibility for their safety.

Why did this not stand out in the moment? Well, we learn something about Ranpo from Untold Origins: he's very good at pretending he's doing okay and things aren't bothering him as much as they are. He's able to hold it together up until it all comes spilling out of him during the play. Also, I do think Ranpo cares about people a good deal more than he'd have you believe. A common fanon thing about Ranpo (from what I've seen) is that he tends to forget people, which, I can see how one would come to that conclusion, but I actually think it's completely wrong. I don't think Ranpo's forgotten a single person he's accused. I don't think he's forgotten a single person he's helped.

He lied about not remembering Poe, in fact, he remembered him pretty fondly as a real challenge. He remembers the information on a person from the Special Division he was asked to look into and gave the info to Mushitarou to allow him an in. He recognizes an officer he'd helped, and it's implied he recognizes every single officer who had been present while he was working on cases in the past. Does this mean he cares about all of them? ...eh. Probably not. But it does mean that Ranpo keeps a lot of his cards close to his chest. He's disarming with his intentional childishness. And so it can be difficult for the characters and readers both to notice that events like Yosano's almost-death... actually bothered him a lot more than he let on.

Because it was his fault. Because she was his responsibility. Because he's supposed to be invincible.

And unfortunately, the story from here on out does not get any kinder to Ranpo as his safe bubble that is the Agency is repeatedly targeted in ways that are increasingly hard to repair.

Fukuzawa falls ill and nearly dies in Cannibalism arc.

A girl gets blown up and Kunikida ends up in jail because Fyodor managed to manipulate Ranpo's intel.

Mushitarou is believed to have been shot and killed trying to warn Ranpo about the Decay of Angels plan.

Taneda bleeds out from a stab wound and falls into a coma. Ranpo can do nothing but listen and cannot get him help.

The amount of times Ranpo has seen people nearly die in front of him... bro it's almost as bad as Kunikida.

Much like Kunikida having extreme faith in his lofty ideals which make him fall just that much harder when he fails to uphold them, Ranpo has practically zero self-doubt and complete and utter confidence in his abilities... so when problems arise, Ranpo is very harsh on himself. He takes the blame because he's supposed to be better than that. Because he is the one with the powerful "ability" that should never fail.

In this sense, Ranpo's position in the Agency reminds me a lot of a certain person in the Port Mafia, someone who also has a powerful skill he puts towards protecting his own, someone who also received life changing words from the boss which earned him his loyalty, and someone who would do anything to defend the only place in the world he feels secure.

I think there's definitely a reason Cannibalism arc had Ranpo and Chuuya face off, I'm just saying. Both of them ostracized and thrown out as young teens by people who should've been looking out for them. Both the instigators of that arc, proactive and desperate to protect the person they are most loyal to who changed their perspectives. They've even got the same power stance, look. :P

[ID: Two panels from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. The first is a panel of Ranpo with the silhouette of Fyodor behind him. He is standing with his hands in his pockets, facing front with his head tilted back and to the left a little, a fierce expression on his face and his cloak billowing outwards. The second is a panel of Chuuya standing in a similar manner, arms crossed, facing front with a fierce expression as his coat billows out around him. End ID.]

Of course, there's more interesting comparisons and contrasts to be drawn between them, but I'm focusing on Ranpo in this analysis, so I think I've made my point. Chuuya is the Port Mafia's best martial artist. Ranpo is the Agency's strongest man. And that places a burden of responsibility on them that they both believe they must uphold. They're both ready and willing to do whatever it takes.

The thing is though, is that Ranpo doesn't actually have an ability. When up against someone like Chuuya, he is at a distinct disadvantage, and he knows it. "Regular people can't defeat ability users". But he's still going to come up with a way to do it anyways, and why?

[ID: A screencap from the Bungou Stray Dogs anime. The members of the Agency all stand around Ranpo, who is seated at his desk with a smile, one hand holding his cap, the other held up in a casual gesture. The image is filtered in a soft light. End ID.]

Because his friends think he's invincible.

If Ranpo wants to maintain his safe place in a world of fear, then he has to step up to defend it, and he has to get creative about it. And that's exactly what he does. Ranpo becomes steadily more active throughout the story, which is a huge change from the start, where he had to be practically bribed to help at all. I see a lot of people point out his channeling of Fyodor's tactics to secure Kunikida's release, which is definitely a dark turn for his character, but it's not the only change.

Ranpo is now choosing to place his faith in others, the first obvious instance of this being his use of Poe's novels - which was how he defeated Chuuya. Ranpo knows that he is not going to succeed against people who drastically overpower him all alone, even if he does still take things on as personal burdens. He's also far more obvious about his protectiveness, going on the rescue himself to save the Agency members, driving a car (whereas before he needed someone to take transit with him - another indication of his increased proactivity since he's now literally driving instead of being driven), and bodily shoving Atsushi out of harm's way.

It all culminates in one of my favourite Ranpo scenes where he speaks at the conference to the police, who've worked with him before, where he asks if they will think for themselves - and tells everyone gathered there that anyone can be a detective if they think for themselves and look with their own eyes (!!!). He manages to get half the police force on his side, just through his words and his logic alone! Minoura assumes he somehow knew it would all work out, because, well, it's Ranpo. Ranpo knows everything.

But...

[ID: An image from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo sits in the passenger seat of a car with an honest, helpless smile. End ID.]

He reveals he didn't know if his ploy would work at all. He had to trust that it would with no solid proof. He had to trust these people would use their heads and look beyond the obvious. He respects these people enough that he thinks at least some of them will make the right call.

Fourteen year old Ranpo, bitter and estranged from other people, would never. For him to have come such a long way is testament to the security that the Agency provided him with. In a way, Fukuzawa forming the Agency allowed Ranpo to "complete" his childhood in relative safety, so that when the world became hostile once again and his family destabilized, Ranpo had matured enough to meet it and defend himself and those he has a responsibility towards head on. The Agency is his family, and Ranpo cares for them enough that he puts his faith, not just in them, but in the people they put their faith in too.

[ID: A panel from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo is kneeling in front of Fukuchi, who is sitting backwards on his chair to face him. End ID.]

...aaaaand then Fukuchi went and ruined it. Thanks, Fukuchi.

Ranpo again chooses to put his trust in someone without proof because Fukuzawa trusts him, only for that to have gotten thrown back into his face in the worst way possible. And it's in this regard, the trust aspect, that I think we'll see Ranpo develop as the story goes on.

Will he continue to show this tentative faith in people? Or will he begin to hyper-analyze, unwilling to trust again without proof?

If this arc gets resolved decently well, I think Ranpo will have no issue brushing this off as a one-time thing. However, if what I fear might happen does and Fukuzawa doesn't make it out of this arc... Ranpo will be destabilized.

I don't know that Ranpo would go "bad" per se. He likes the other Agency members. He cares about them - that's genuine. But if Fukuzawa dies, then Ranpo may begin to take darker actions in order to keep them safe, almost overprotective and harshly logical, with little room for blind trust or risks in the name of justice or honour. It may put him at odds with Kunikida, in that Ranpo may start to develop a strong "do what's necessary" mentality, even if that may be immoral. He may regress a little into his old trust issues.

However, I really don't think Ranpo will go too far down the path of darkness, even if the worst should happen. He's a lot tougher than he seems, and he has a good support system in the Agency. I guess it remains to be seen where Ranpo's story takes him next.

Until then...

[ID: A screencap from the Bungo Stray Dogs anime. Ranpo sits in his chair in a cuter art style, having taken a bite from the pastry he has in his left hand. End ID.]

I love one good boy. :)

#ranpo's such a good character man. there's so much i couldn't cover here but he's so so good.#but anyways. ahahahahaaaa i finished it! yesssss #sorry for the. VERY. long delay on this #i'm back baby #bsd #bsd ranpo #bsd meta #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective.#storyrambles #hope i got everything. whee.

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 3 days

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I'm just curious since I absolutely adore all your trans Ed fics, what made you read Ed as being trans? Is it more of a personal headcanon since we tend to see ourselves in fictional characters, or did you notice some tiny detail on the show that made you think so?

Oh my friend, I'm so glad you ask.

The cool thing about reading Ed as trans, I think, is that you do not even have to squint to do it. Literally you need to change exactly nothing, and this read suddenly adds a lot of nuance and additional juicy layers to his story and his journey with masculinity.

Ed's whole deal with masculinity, precisely exactly all of it, makes him feel so much like a trans guy who never outgrew the "I need to be hypermasculine so I pass" phase, fitting that read so precisely that given there are trans writers on the OFMD team I would be absolutely SHOCKED if at least some of it wasn't intentional. Every single trans guy I know has been through a version of this, where you come out and you know you're a man but you need everyone else to know, too, and so you lean very hard into masculinity to make damn sure you pass. And not just pass, but pass perfectly. Ed is forcing himself into such a heavy ideal of masculinity that it feels artificial; he needs to make sure everyone sees him as this perfect ideal of a masculine man that he cannot possibly live up to because no one could.

Certainly, parts of Ed's hyper-masculine presentation seem to be things that genuinely make him happy and bring him joy. That's important. Ed's happy to be a man, the problem is that he's trying to force himself into such a narrow idea of masculinity that it's stifling him. It's preventing him from enjoying more ""feminine"" things that he genuinely loves, because he's terrified of being seen as less of a man for it, and people like Izzy reinforce the idea that if Ed fucks up in his performance of masculinity, he's going to be in danger because of that. It's very real, and the added juiciness from reading Ed as trans adds so much to the great story that's already there, I think. There's this additional element of Ed knowing he's a man but needing to make sure everyone else could never doubt it, there's an additional perceived danger to slipping up, there's a sort of jealous admiration for guys like Stede who seem, at least on the surface, so much more comfortable with a different type of masculinity that Ed wishes he could have more of.

And on top of that, there's just a lot of other little additional things, like:

Ed making his beard his whole brand, it just screams beard dysphoria and "no one could ever claim I'm not a man because the beard is my whole THING."

Something about his relationship with his name, and how hard he has to try to get people like Izzy to call him by his name in front of others

The way Ed is dehumanized when he dares to step outside a very safe, masculine gender presentation - it's why Izzy saying "this thing you've become" when Ed is wearing a robe and painted nails hits so hard for me, I think

Okay. okay. listen. You know the scene where Ed makes CJ whip him in the balls. Listen. Ed baby. It just SCREAMS "people here don't know I'm trans and I don't know how much getting hit in the balls should ACTUALLY hurt so I'm gonna lay it on really really thick just to be safe"

There's a lot to be said about Ed and his clothing in a lot of directions, but I'm gonna leave it at how he's really figured out a safe set of clothing that works for him and consistently allows him to be read as this super masculine guy, and he's scared to step away from that. Also, I really like imagining the full-fingered gloves at the end of s1 as a way to cover up the nail polish on his fingernails until it wears off.

I think it's very sweet that Ed tends to be very private when talking about his personal and sex life with others, but a very, very easy explanation for how that got started is he just doesn't want to go around sharing personal details about his body with people!

Yeah. A trans read of Ed is so shockingly easy, fits so well, and adds so much to his journey, frankly I'm amazed it's not more common.

#ofmd #our flag means death #pccp's stuff #this is also why i just can't see izzy as trans at all - it's fine if others have that headcanon obvs #because projecting onto characters you like is awesome #but to me with this read izzy just scans as that gatekeepy guy who's like “but are you REALLY a guy if you dress like that”#this got very long. i'm so sorry. i had a lot to say

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sysig · 4 months

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An eye for a life, unquestionably worth it (Patreon)

#Doodles #ISaT #Siffrin #Bonnie #Blood #It's been *checks watch* nine months??? since I last drew an empty eye socket???#Not even ZEX got that treatment how could this be :0 It's such a Look #I guess it's only been a couple months since I posted Diaryfic!Edgar but that was drawn a while ago - Sif is new and fresh blood <3 #I'm sure they're stoked about it lol sorry Sif #That really was my entire motivation I just wanted to draw eye horror and blood on him lol poor Sif #But also I got to practice Bonnie :D Again I'm sure they're stoked about the situation #Gosh that'd be such a scary situation for a kid :'0 And feeling guilty about it weh </3 #Their name being called and it's scary and sad even tho Sif's just trying to comfort! Weh #If I thought about it in a Bit less of an angst mood (lol) I imagine the other adults would flock to Sif both to protect/help him #But also to keep him out of Bonnie's line of sight - the less time spent looking the less traumatic hopefully :(#There's something Very about Sif getting blood - his own or anyone's really - on his cloak :0 #Something he's had for a long long time and Something Happens - it's just Very I dunno of what but Very #Really fun to draw the black and white blood splatter ♪ Shaped character design paired with soft details ah <3 #I've been really into that hazy fuzzy eye style lately too it's really fun to ''tone'' the eye rather than ''line'' it #It's not something I think about that much so I don't do it often! But it's quite effective :D

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 7 months

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I think for all the discussions we have of "everyone hears the jokes and the piano; after that, they stop listening" surrounding Louis, we tend to still simplify his connection to the piano.

Yes, it's very cute that he sings Clementine a little song when they first meet, and it's very cute that he plays a little prank on her while "tuning" the piano. It's super cute that they carve their initials into the piano and Clementine carves a heart around them. It's mega cute that he names his song he wrote after her when she confesses her feelings. Louis playing Don't Be Afraid at the party is, in my opinion, one of the best moments in all of TFS.

But here's the thing: That piano is Louis' heart.

I don't mean to go all metaphorical on you, but I'm dead serious—the piano is Louis' heart, and when you think about his arc and his romance route with that in mind...?

That piano is his one comfort in a world where the dead walk. It's been with him from the beginning of the outbreak. We know from his backstory that Louis wanted to take singing lessons so he could be a real musician, and his father denying him of that was what set him off to be a "vindictive fuckhead." Louis never got those singing lessons, and it's a very real possibility that Louis taught himself how to play.

Sure, others could've taught him; we know Minerva was musically talented, perhaps she showed him a thing or two. But learning piano, or any instrument, is brutal even with professional guidance. It takes hours of practice until numbness wears fingertips raw; dedication to memorize every key and finger placement to make music pleasing to the ear; self-discipline to keep going through every fumble, every failure, every single cruel thought of self-doubt; intelligence and a creative ear to write his own songs.

And yet, it's severely under-appreciated by everyone. It's annoying. It's distracting. It's unimportant. It's an excuse for Louis to mess around and not do any real work. He doesn't have any actual talent. The music and the piano are brushed off, unheard.

Yet, Louis keeps playing. He keeps singing. He keeps making jokes.

Creating music, the one thing he wanted so badly as a kid that he destroyed his parents marriage, was possibly the greatest comfort he had... a welcome distraction to disassociate from the horror and death happening around him.

It's bittersweet, like a purpling bruise that you can't stop pressing on; it hurts, but there's something else below the pain. The piano is out of tune and it's something that brings him joy... but will always act as a constant reminder of who he was and what he did, why he's at Ericson to begin with.

We first meet him while he's playing; Louis' heart is exposed, but is it really? Is he playing to his true potential? Louis hides behind the mask of a charming, charismatic goof. It's what is expected of him, so he plays a silly song intended to poke and prod at Clementine, to gauge a reaction. That's something we see him do at multiple points in episode one. In fact, we can consider a majority of episode one to be like the song he's playing when we meet him; it's mostly cheery or fast-paced.

Louis is able to soothe AJ with his "alluring" music after the kid bit Ruby is an indication that the two of them will share a bond. Louis is a natural at communicating and bonding with the younger kids [another talent that's overlooked] so it's interesting that he praises AJ for being a natural at piano, as well.

But the song stutters just a bit when Louis and Clementine are in the woods together, though; "There's only one guarantee: this moment. That's the only you got, only thing any of us got. Might as well enjoy it." ...Only for Louis to compose himself and send her away.

It's only when Clementine has a gun in her face, held by Marlon, that the music isn't fun anymore; it's rainfall and thunder and the words "I thought you were more than that" sung through the wind in a melody only Louis can hear.

Then Marlon's dead. The song is over, and reality has arrived.

I've talked at length about Louis in ep2 and his vote in the past. It's one of the most compelling things about Louis' arc and romantic route. It's a tragic mistake driven by trauma and guilt. It's people simultaneously telling him to shut up and telling him to be angrier than he is. Telling him to stop burying his head in the sand when he's never been more aware of everything happening. It's AJ peering up at him with pleading eyes that Louis can't stand to look at. It's Clementine wrapping his heartstrings around her fingers and tugging just enough to hurt, but not break.

Louis missed Clementine. He says as much when Clementine admits she missed him first. I don't even know where to begin with that! I can think of no other way to describe it other than they are half agony, half hope over this... and if you get that reference, you get a gold star. I just- the ache, the tension, the conflicting feelings of finally having a quiet moment to talk but Louis not being ready yet.

Y'know how someone carved "you suck at playing" in the side of the piano? It's something you might not initially notice while playing the game, just as Louis' insecurities aren't apparent at first.. but they're carved in him; never fully healed, still scabbed and bleeding... Until Clementine offers him a bandage.

She won't clean the wound for him, but she'll be there. She'll help him figure out how to do it himself so he can heal. She'll listen to him, not belittle his feelings or pain. She'll make an effort to know his keys and notes and practice playing his song until she understands.

When Clementine chooses him to spend time with him, it's a mirror of their first time meeting... but this time, Louis plays something real: a song he wrote, one that I believe he crafted during the two week time skip... a song he wrote with Clementine on his mind, for better or worse.

If the piano is Louis' heart, he literally asks her to sit there and try to tune it, which ends up being a joke but I say she's already tuned your heart, my guy. It's there before them, changed in the warm candlelight. He plays for her and opens up about how no one actually listens, but Clementine did.

And remember, this is the night of the raid. They don't know it's coming, but they know it'll be soon. Louis understands that he could very well die, so what does he do? He carves his initial into the one thing he's always had, and he asks Clementine to do the same.

I'm sorry, how are we NOT more feral about this? Prior to this scene, the only thing we see carved into the piano, into Louis' heart, is an insult. This thing that Louis cares so deeply about, this instrument that's become so intertwined with who he is... he wants to leave his mark on it just in case he dies. A reminder that it was his and he belonged to it just as much. Something so important, and he asks Clementine to carve herself into his heart where no matter what, they will be immortalized together in this moment.

And when Clementine carves a heart around their initials? Yes, his reaction is very cute and that's great... but she's not ashamed of him, or her feelings for him. She wants everyone who looks upon his heart to know that. She tells him how she feels and Louis is so giddy, and warm, and he names the song after her and I am going to start biting anything that moves, I can't-

Oh, and let's discuss the party scene in episode three, shall we? Y'know, where the heart covered initials are on full display? Where Louis tells the story of why he was sent to Ericson to everyone?

Louis is so... vulnerable. Sincere. Ashamed of what he did. This is the exposed nerve, the one he was so afraid of showing Clementine but there it is... and she doesn't reject him. Sure, she can say it's fucked up if you choose to, but she doesn't break up with him over it.

Also the fact that everyone sitting around him finally listens when he's at his most unshielded only for Tenn to ask him to play Don't Be Afraid for them after...? How do you not see the connection? Are you trying to make me cry? In that moment, Louis' heart was heard and appreciated and beautiful and strong and-

Listen. I am fine. I'm so normal about this. And fine. I'm fine.

But I also have to add that during the walk in episode four, if you let Louis choose what to add to the imaginary house, he picks a brand new piano because he wants a new heart to reflect the confidence and growth Clementine helped him achieve and because he loves her and AJ so much that wants the new heart to not just be his but also theirs and I am so fine with this, okay.

#twdg #twdg clouis #twdg clementine #twdg louis #clouis #long post #happy valentine's day y'all i got you a totally normal louis/clouis analysis #i initially got you flowers but then i ate them sorry #real talk though I started out normal and slowly descended into unhinged waters while writing this... I don't know how it happened #years later and clouis still pierces my soul i am half agony half hope tell me not that i am too late-#I'm fine okay it's only louis asking clementine to carve herself into his soul it's fine #i can already hear 'it's not that deep bro' like i dunno try getting out of the shallow end and learn to swim you coward #2024 is the year cj goes full gremlin. no self-control. writes whatever bullshit her very normal mind comes up with.#apologies in advance for my bullshit skskskss

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originalaccountname · 11 months

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putting my hands on your shoulders looking directly into your eyes why are you so insistent that Dazai is faking every emotion every second of every day except when he's acting mean or evil why do you think his dark side is more true than his happier or sillier sides

do you not also have multiple facets you show different people? are we not all beautiful multifaceted individuals? are your actions and reactions not influenced by your emotions and state of mind?

can't he laugh at his own jokes? can't he fondly think of the Agency? can't he be dramatic because he wants to? can't he be surprised by something suddenly happening, even if he knew it would happen? do you not jump when the jack in the box gets out even if you were the one working the mechanism?

why would the mean persona be more real? why would any and all joy be faked? why are you only allowing him misery?

#sorry i saw one too many posts talking about dazai's ''masks'' and how he hides his true self from the ada #and what of it if he still has the potential to hurt others? what of it if he's good at hurting? every day he chooses not to lean into it #not too far at the very least.#isn't kyouk.a skilled at killing? did she not choose not to do it?#i'm not saying dazai's never acting (because it does happen) i'm saying too many people are too quick to brush off-#every non-serious non-mean emotion as ''playing an act''#why would the mean persona not be a fake?? you thought about that??? what biases are you holding here #he makes jokes. he acts silly. he's a drama queen. he loves it.#you know what IS tiring? having to look evil and untouchable and impassive in front of a whole organization every day as a teenager #as soon as he gets to lupin with od.a and ang.o he goes silly mode. heck- when he *met* ang.o it was because he went silly mode.#as soon as chuuy.a is in proximity he starts yelling children's insults and starts stupid competitions #his silly mode is just as integrated into his personality as the capacity to be the scariest most evil person you've seen #they are not mutually exclusive and having the capacity for either does not mean acting on them #as asagiri said in an interview: bsd isn't about change it's about adaptation. kyouk.a has the talent to kill. she just chooses not to.#dazai has the skills to be evil. he just chooses good.#that got long in the tags sorry #apparently i talk sometimes

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tswwwit · 8 months

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I feel like if Dipper were ever reincarnated as a demon, he wouldn't fit in super well with the others. Yes, he's been raised to vie for power and step on everyone in his way using whatever means is necessary - it's the same toxic bizz as when he was a human, appealing to gender norms. He's tougher, scarier, more powerful (than ordinary humans, that is), but when it comes to asserting control - being Evil - he doesn't have it in him. Given enough time, I think he'd grow pretty vocal about leaving living things alone. NOT torturing organisms for the hell of it, or stealing people's souls, or conquering planets. Sure, he's a demon. That's no excuse to be a MONSTER.

It's a VERY unpopular opinion amongst neighboring demons, and rumor spreads fast about the Goody Two-Shoed Activist imp raining on everyone's blood-splattered parade, so much so that it makes it to Bill, who's immediately intrigued. Call it intuition, but only one soul's capable of overriding goddamn demon nature for some preachy bullshit about "Doing Good." Lucky for him, demons occupy the same plane of existence, so all it really takes to verify the guy is a snap of his fingers, and POOF! He's floating right next to him. Sure enough, Dipper's fashioned himself a new and improved demonic form, and it is lovely!

No one likes Dipper's kumbaya "Can't We All Just Get Along" ideology, but Bill's almost instantly smitten with the guy, whoever he is, so he's gotta be at least somewhat powerful. Demons take notice when the all-powerful Bill Cipher starts lending his time (and magic?) to some low-leveler like Dipper. Is he being blackmailed? Are they working together? No. Not possible. Bill doesn't "work" with anyone, save for whatever human catches his eye every few decades. Doesn't look to be doing him any benefit, either. The opposite, even. Lending power to a saint like Dipper only makes it harder to cause chaos, after all. Why would he actively go against his OWN best interest to cater some imp's? It's almost like he's. He's.

A henchmen.

(Bill's also 30% more affectionate the first month they reunite, because he still can't believe that his adorable little human husband came back as the same SPECIES as him! He'd never complain over having a sweet human to squeeze, but one with teeth and claws and cute pointy ears doesn't hurt).

#answers #I can't help but picture demon dipper starting out all like #I'm Bad 😡 I'm Mean 😡 I'm Evil As Heck!! 😡#And still having a HUGE hatred for things that are Unfair or Unjust. One time he saved a kitten from a tree and got embarrassed about it #Eventually he just has to give into his nature and speak up about all the BULLSHIT he sees going on around him #Sorry Dippin' Dots even the society that 'raised' you can't prevent you from your do-gooder ways #Don't worry Bill loves you for the stupid idiot you are #Everyone is completely BAFFLED by Bill acting like a friggin' henchman though #I bet they don't even peg it as romantic interest at first. Dipper sure doesn't #He's thinking this is some Grand Scheme to convince him back into the evil fold #And to be fair Bill's very tempting in that respect. But not leaning as hard into it as he *could* be #Maybe he thinks Bill's trying to 'mentor' him for something. Seems like the kind of thing Bill would imply and let Dipper fill in the gaps #They're technically not the same SPECIES since Dipper's probably some human-shaped 'demon'#And Bill's originally from a two-dimensional weird universe. Technically speaking he's His Own Thing #Aside from whatever refugees escaped that plane. If any.#Demon covers a LOT of different beings that don't have much or any genetics in common #But you KNOW Bill's thrilled as hell that Dipper's Slightly More Immortal than usual!! This one's gonna last a WHILE #*slams fist on table* Give Dipper A Tail With A Tuft That Bill Can Pull To Be Annoying #Final thought: In this incarnation Bill might have been wondering where the hell Dipper got to since there's no human around #Given a long enough time he might even wonder if he was LOST #So you know that when Dipper reemerges on the scene everyone else was dealing with a VERY unhappy Bill Cipher for QUITE a while

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vaguely-concerned · 2 years

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it's so crushing to me that M--, in the middle of the nuclear escalation insanity, told john through the closed door of his bedroom that she knows this isn't what he really wants, that they can still fix this together, that everything can still be all right if they just stop now. both she and A-- believed in john's goodness as a man, as a person, not even as a god or a leader, so much that they came up with the crazy 'arming the bomb' plan with him because they thought he would never actually do it. (they've got a recurring problem with judgement of character I suppose lol oopsie we enabled a genocidal monster sorry folks won't happen ag-- ah shit). C-- tells him he doesn't have to do this. the rest of his little found family, they all tell him this has gone too far, walk it back while we still can holy shit john!!! and he hides in his room because people are mad at him like a kid, but like a middle-aged kid with a doctorate who won't take his finger off the one Biggest Reddest Button to end them all.

then, so many years later, cytherea says at the dawn of lyctorhood: we had the choice to stop.

and then. THEN augustine tells him, at the end of everything, "john, we still have the choice to stop, even now. you don't have to do this anymore. even if there can be no forgiveness for what we've done, we can at the very least stop doing it." without either of them knowing it he's closing the loop of what M-- said ten thousand years ago -- they're both begging him 'be the man I want you to be, not the man you apparently are'. and he still doesn't listen.

what is this whole fucking mess if not a tragic ten thousand year demonstration of the unfortunate fact that no matter what you do, you can't change someone through sheer force of loving them 😔

I just... godDAMN IT john if you had listened to the people who loved you ONCE! ONCE, at ANY of these points, instead of sunk cost fallacy-ing yourself into the fucking lightless depths of the mariana trench while getting high on your own supply and drowning the universe in blood, everything could have been so different. my head is in my hands my heart is in pieces on the ground my bones are trying to shake their way out of my body --

#(I'm rereading/relistening to the audiobook and got to this part again and the AGONY! im so SAD help)#the locked tomb #the locked tomb spoilers #nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #nona spoilers #john gaius #mercymorn the first #augustine the first #bad cop worse cop and sorry cop #like... mercy and augustine are very bad people but at least they realize that at this point forgiveness is irrelevant #while john both longs for and doesn't want absolution it seems but like. dude this isn't about you!!!!!!!!#it's about all these people you keep murdering!#how about: Stop That first of all maybe

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thedreadvampy · 3 months

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sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

#red said #recent events have reminded me that my life has involved like. a LOT of other people's psychosis #like not in a way where i have been Beset By Terrifying Crazies bc that's not like. a thing.#but a lot of people in my life have had a lot of really severe psychotic episodes #and i FORGET sometimes. that actually that is an Unusual Amount Of Experience With Psychosis for someone who's not #for somebody who has not really personally ever had psychotic episodes (unless severe PTSD flashbacks count)#actually i tell a lie i have maybe had One psychotic episode but because it was very situational and i knew what was happening #i was able to ride it out. because i am literally only psychotic Inside Hospitals and so that's all fine #as long as i LITERALLY NEVER HAVE TO HAVE INPATIENT CARE. Very important to me to never ever ever require surgery i think.#i can handle the amount of psychosis i get from a 1-4 hour stopoff in hospital #as long as i know I'm leaving soon then i can just Cope with the fact that the walls are moving and reality is thin #ANYWAY that's not the point the point is i forget! that most ppl i know have experience of at most a handful of severe psychotic episodes #some people i know have experienced more for sure. especially if the episodes were mostly theirs.#but people really seem to expect me to be more freaked out by their symptoms of psychosis than i am #bc i don't think i really register it as frightening unless they're in actual danger or Currently Aggressing Actually At Me #like i WORRY about them bc it can super suck but it's not SHOCKING or WEIRD #there have definitely been times ive been frightened. one time i woke up in the night and my friend was standing over me with a knife #but also like he was still HIM he was just having a moment. and as soon as i got the knife off him he just came back and broke down.#and we were fine and he was safe and i learnt the valuable lesson that even when people seem like they wanna kill you they probably don't #tbf now I'm thinking about it it's honestly a tossup whether he was there to threaten or because he felt a need to guard us #like to be clear probably don't try and take a knife off someone having a psychotic break. i was 17 and it was 3am and i knew him very well #i probably did not make the smartest call but nobody got hurt is the point #anyway you know there's that kind of psychotic episode and my granny got very violently angry a few times. buuuut you know there's also #been plenty of other times I've been with somebody having an episode and it's been chill as hell.#my ex saw and heard monsters so much that eventually she just got sick of being scared. we used to watch TV with them #i would sometimes have to sit on a bit of sofa that wasn't haunted and we might not be able to watch certain things bc they didn't like it #most of the time she was hallucinating there was absolutely nothing to worry about we just had a few extra variables #honestly of everyone i know who's had psychotic episodes or schizophrenia the amount of times it's been a material risk #is like. low single figures? maybe low double if you include self harm but idk what the cause and effect is there.#idk why you would need to be frightened like 99.99% of the time it truly is usually just Oh No That Seems Distressing For You I'm Sorry

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raycatz · 4 months

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WIP ask game, artist edition! (writing welcome too)

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

It's been really fun reading about what everyone's working on! Let's get the artists involved, too! I want to see everyone's aaa.fileextention and aaaa.fileextention pieces hehe.

I have so many LU comic ideas! For most of them I have the dialogue, visuals, and acting written out. Some have art! Everything from initial concepts to multi-chapter fic.

Here's the .csp wips I have atm! Some of them are tied to comic ideas and some are stand alone.

shunk

haha tanlines

apple tree

chores

wind_maya_19_simpleRig_pose.mb

smack_audio_shorter

theblorbos

pixels2

om nom

nehneh

sleeps

full sprint

headache

ico

uuuuuhhhhh

mftrainsbro

huhwha & hhhwa

beetleeeee

Non LU writing & art wips

lizard

whee

wobbles

corn

sleepy ocs

Moe the Moblin (the idea lives on the LU ideas google doc but it's gen loz. could be LU if you wanted it to be, though! Open to interpretation.)

SSBU Links - Chateau Romani

SSBU Links - Get Out Of The Water!

Mina's Linkverse - Goat Plushie

Team Ico AU

Major & Minor Beats & Shot Types: Dragon Tower

While tagging as many people as I have wips might be possible, maybe, it would definitely be excessive! I'm tagging: @zolanort, @liccy, @luwyv, @mizaruwu, @theegh0st,

@bluevaractyl, @grenapple0547, @starrysorry, @twilight-linkess, @genderfluid-puddle-of-soup,

@awkwardpossum0, @ghostlykidplaidbanana, @jellydragons, @off-mozzarella, @kikker-oma (Oma, do you have any projects outside of Fan Joy July you want to share? :D ) and anyone who wants to play!

(also feel free to ignore the @. This is for fun and only if you want to!)

#linked universe #ask game #tag game #my art #long post #get tagged!!! >:D what are you working on?#says I don't want to be excessive- tags 15 people-#I'm going to have to be vague about sharing some of my wips since the idea or wip is like - that's it that's the comic xD #I don't want to spoil it all #I keep telling myself no more!!! I need to realize some of these before coming up with any more!#or at least share some as they are as ficlets maybe 'xD but... they could be comics!#quite a few could be combined for fics too but I struggle with making an overarching story to fit them within #spinning these all in my mind #still very fun coming up with them though #(edited because I got nervous sorry sorry 'x) )

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stjernespiller · 25 days

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Another eye

Can also be found on AO3

You can’t see anything.

Blood drips from your face. You think it hurts, in that distant way everything does now. You try to get it out of your eye, just enough to see the fight, but your vision stays dark through the wet sounds of blood and flesh.

Stupid, you think to yourself. Stupid stupid idiot, zoning out in a battle. Should have just looped forward to the king instead of taking that bathroom break and fighting the floor boss. Couldn’t even blinding cry, so what did it matter?

Your family members are speaking. They don’t do that much in battle. You should probably listen.

Bonnie is crying.

Mirabelle heals you again, a light feeling drifting over you that does nothing to take away the weight in your stomach. You don’t know why she did it again, you just need to get this blood out of your eye and you can go back to the fight, stop zoning out just enough to beat the sadness blocking your way to asking the king the question you’ve been dreading.

Isabeau is saying something very close to you. You think it’s him, at least, from the deeper tone. You can’t hear it. Can’t fight can’t see can’t hear. You’re pathetic.

He touches your face.

It’s- new, strange, unexpected. You flinch, and he takes his hand back, like your family always does because you’re so weak you can’t even handle being touched. But the hand only leaves for a moment before it’s back again, holding your cheek. you stand very, very still.

Is the fight over? It has to be. You almost had it before you got distracted and let yourself get hit. Maybe Isabeau and Odile got it while Mirabelle was healing you. He wouldn’t be touching you like this if the sadness was still attacking, back turned to where it stood.

He wipes the blood away from your eye, unstained hand doing a much better job than yours had. You still can’t see. You still can’t hear what any of them are saying. He sounds close to tears, though.

Ah. You know why you can’t see.

It clears your hearing. Fear, for some reason, leaves when you exhale. You breathe deep in, again, and a full sense of calmness fills the space of the fear you breathe out.

The blood hadn’t covered your eye, it was coming out of it. Stupid Siffrin didn’t pay attention to the fight and lost another eye.

Isabeau is cursing, voice wet with tears. His other hand cups your jaw, keeping your head in place. He wipes more blood away, touching your eyeball with so much gentleness you feel it should heal it. Mirabelle crafts another healing spell, and Odile asks Bonnie for the one sweet tonic you picked up this loop.

You pick up your wooden arms, raising them slowly, like through a thick fog, to land your hands on Isabeau’s. He drops his hands from your face. You’re speaking to your whole party when you say, “It won’t work.”

Bonnie sobs. Someone, likely Odile, pours a tonic on your eye anyway.

You just need to get to a frozen tear. You don’t remember where they are, but maybe you could convince your family to lead you to one. If you could find some excuse. Or just swing your arms around until you hit one.

“The head housemaiden could heal you,” Mirabelle whispers, voice just as teary as Isabeau’s. “I should have taken more healing classes. Studied more on my own. I can’t do it. And by the time we get to her...”

She trails of. Crafts another healing cure. It works just as well as the others.

Healing of this scale needs to be done quick. You know, because you all talked about it when you lost your first eye, and when Isabeau showed you a small scar on his bicep. Go more than an hour or two without the right healing craft, and it’ll be permanent.

An idea lights up in your mind. You turn your head, but it all stays black, and you can’t look anyone in the eye.

“We can find a tear. Freeze me.” It’s so perfect. You almost have to stop yourself from grinning. The best excuse you could have ever asked for. “when you beat the king and everyone unfreezes, someone can help me.”

The lie is easy, as easy as all the others you’ve filled these two days with. They won’t beat the king without you. You won’t unfreeze with everyone else, and the head housemaiden will never help you. But you need to see to fight, and you need to loop to see, and you need a tear to loop.

It’s quiet for a moment. “Will that work?” Odile asks, voice strangely soft.

“It’s worth a try.”

“We’ll find a tear!” Bonnie yells. They either stamp their foot or jump in place. “We’ll defeat the king and you’ll get your eye back!” their voice is still wet. You don’t know why. Are they scared of fighting the king without you? Now you’re thinking about the loop you let them go alone. Stars, you really are an awful person. Of course they’re scared when you can’t keep fighting, and just before the king, too.

“Let’s bandage it until then.” Mirabelle says, and a piece of cloth presses against your face. It’s nice and cool. “Your coat is all dark know.”

Odile, you think, listening to the footsteps, start walking. “We can’t go back,” she says, “hopefully there will be some tears further in.”

You walk after her. The corridor is as familiar to you as the rest of this blinding house. You don’t need an eye to know the way.

Isabeau still hovers beside you, steps heavy but careful. He doesn’t offer to guide you, probably afraid to touch you, but you can imagine his arm reaching out, hovering above your shoulder, ready to steer you away from the walls or the floor or what else you might kill yourself on. Fragile little Siffrin, can’t walk on his own.

Bonnie is to your other side, rushing ahead for two steps at a time before falling back again, never straying far. They hiccup, and audibly sniff their snot in. You feel awful. The tear is close. You just need to loop.

Mirabelle walks in front of you with Odile. You can almost feel her continuously looking back at you, footsteps irregular in that familiar pattern. You don’t know why it’s familiar, and when you try to remember, it slips away like lightless sand between your fingers.

The air is tense. You slip into your mind, a little. Claude is up ahead, frozen in time with the secret ingredient. You turn a corner, and don’t think about how strange it looks to your family for you to walk through the corridor like this. Isabeau calling you graceful is there, memory pushing itself to the front of your mind, but you don’t force yourself to act as if you don’t know this place better than yourself. They won’t remember.

“Does it hurt?” Bonnie whispers besides you. You instinctively look towards them, but still see nothing but darkness around you. “Sorry, stupid question. Of course it hurts.” Their voice is still wet. They sniffle. “You just act like it doesn’t.”

You’ve been acting a lot. Almost everything feels like a secret, a lie, a play. This isn’t one of them. “It’s just an eye.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN JUST AN EYE?!” Bonnie yells, and their voice is still wet, but it cracks in fury. “You always do this, you don’t care about anything! It’s your eye, you can’t see, you lost both of them now! You have to care!”

They hate you. You remember, now, that they don’t love you. You couldn’t get yourself to help them this loop, too tired from hearing the same thing again and again and again. In this moment, Bonnie hasn’t hugged you. In this moment, you haven’t talked with Bonnie about losing your first eye. In this moment, they still hate you.

But it’s fine. You’re on your way to a tear. You’ve all been walking this stretch for a while, Mirabelle should see Claude soon, and then they’ll find the safe room, and after that - you think you’ve seen tears there before.

“It’s just an eye,” you say again, because you can’t bring yourself to pretend any differently, that it matters to you more than having to loop and run through the third floor again. “I’ve lost worse.”

Bonnie doesn’t respond. Claude has to be here soon, right? Was she always this deep in the corridor?

"How is your eyes not the worst thing you've lost?" Mirabelle asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear her. The kind of question she doesn’t expect a response to.

You shouldn’t respond. You don’t want to respond. How can you. You can’t speak it’s name, can’t tell them anything about it, and you already didn’t help Odile this loop because you couldn’t bring yourself to follow the blinding script again when she won’t understand and won’t remember and won’t care.

“I lost my home,” you say anyway, because it’s all one big cosmic joke. They won’t remember anyway. It doesn’t matter. “And I don’t even remember it.”

Does your country matter, if no one remembers it?

Isabeau speaks up, always the emotionally mature one. “I’m sorry, that sounds awful.”

“You never remember anything,” Bonnie sniffles, sounding tired. The kind of exhausted you get calming down from crying. You wish your stupid eye would let you cry.

You’ve already broken the dam. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. “I don’t.” Isabeau tugs at you cloak, pulling you slightly towards him. He lets you go, a meter more to the left of the corridor than before, and doesn’t explain anything. You don’t ask.

“Not even the word for a stuffed animal. Or a sharpening stone, which you use all the time. Or bananas.” It seems to calm Bonnie down, listing all the things you don’t remember. You follow along.

“Not the name for all the birds in Dormount. What bonding earring are. What we did last week. My family. My country. Your names, that one time.”

It doesn’t calm you down. Or the others, for that matter. Isabeau stopped walking. The other three follow suit.

You stop too, because the others did. Then you wish you had kept going, because now you’re just standing here, and you still can’t see anything.

“Sif...” Isabeau starts, soft and careful. “I’m sorry. We’ve been poking fun at your memory, but this... We need to talk, after we beat the king.”

You don’t want to talk. Have you already made the pun on your memory this loop? Bonnie said you couldn’t remember the name, so probably, you need something else, something to divert the attention, it doesn’t matter because they’ll forget but right now they remember and you don’t want to talk.

“Aren’t there any tears here?” You ask, and it comes out harsher than you planned.

“Oh! No, not yet, but there’s a door here, maybe on the other side?” Mirabelle sounds nervous and jumpy. Did you do that? Stars, you’re awful.

Then you think. There’s a door, and you hear someone open it. Claude was before the door. She was, you know it, you can’t have forgotten that, Mirabelle stops you all and says the same thing every time.

Did you all walk past her? Did... did Mirabelle change the script? Because you’re blind now?

Your head hurts. You walk towards the door, and only need to follow the wall for a moment before you reach it, having been pulled from the middle of the corridor by Isabeau. Was that.... because of Claude? Did he pull you out of the way?

When Mirabelle tells everyone to hurry through the safe room, they do so. No one talks about taking a break, and Odile’s stomach doesn’t rumble. You’re through the room without eating or touching the star.

“There!” Bonnie yells, first out of the second door.

“A tear,” Odile says simply. “Two, actually. Pick your poison, Siffrin.”

You chuckle, just a little. Lean right. But you don’t actually know where in the room the tears are. You just know the door to the king is straight ahead.

“Can I lead you to it?” Isabeau offers. You empty your mind, think of nothing, and hold out your hand.

He guides you in an arch. Let’s go of your hand. You reach out, and dream of nothing.

#in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #isat fic #fanfiction #isat siffrin #eye injury #sif loses the other eye lmao #wrote this is one sitting!!! have had this idea on my mind for so long. very happy to finally sit down #and write it out. feels like I'm 13 again with the way I'm posting this immediately #it's nice to not overthink it and just post when I'm done. do tell me if there are any errors or mispellings #really hope i got the pronouns right. I changed who was speaking at some points #and it would suck if I forgot to change one somewhere #mit #Added a read more because I kinda forgot that was something I could do. Sorry for the long post folks

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