#or in the same format as the last twins post

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

Could we get some more headcanons of twin!dad Sirius?👀

Samson and Charlotte are nervous after their sorting ceremony at Hogwarts. Especially Samson.

“I’m going to be disowned.” Samson moans, sitting near the black lake with his sister. It’d been a stressful and exciting first day of classes, but he can’t shake the knots twisting in his stomach.

“Yeah, probably.” Charlotte replies, not looking up from her books.

“I’m not kidding!” He exclaims, becoming increasingly frustrated with his sister’s lack of empathy. If anything she should be the one placed in Slytherin, not him!

“Alright, fine.” She sighs dramatically, glancing at the green patch on his robes before finally looking up to meet his eyes. “Maybe he won’t disown you, but he’ll certainly be ashamed.

“Merlin knows I am.” She adds quickly, silently relishing in her brother’s misery. Charlotte knows their father won’t be that (if at all) upset about their housing placements, but Samson’s over dramatics are very amusing to her while they last.

“You weren’t put into Gryffindor either; he’ll be just as disappointed with you!” Samson argues, pointing a finger and glaring daggers at her. The thought of tossing her books into the water crosses his mind.

“Right, but I’m in Ravenclaw—I’m smart, so it’s not unexpected.” Charlotte counters easily, shrugging. “But you being an evil, selfish Slytherin? Tsk, tsk.”

“Oh, shove off, Charlie.” Samson spits, picking up his things and walking away without giving her a second glance.

Sirius reads his daughter’s letter to him a second and third time. As always, the girl has an interesting way with words, but the topic of the letter drops a lump of guilt in his stomach. Of course he was always proud to be a Gryffindor, but he hadn’t realized somewhere along the way he’d given his children the impression that being placed in any other house was unacceptable.

Sirius sighs, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. While raising his children, he tried his damndest to be the polar opposite of his own parents. He’s playful, encouraging, and supportive of their endeavors and personalities. And yet, in this moment, he’s reminded of his own childhood.

He was happy to be placed in Gryffindor, but he remembers clear as day how nervous terrified he was of his parents’ reactions. And he’s somehow caused his children to have similar feelings to the ones he experienced.

Charlotte being placed in Ravenclaw isn’t much of a surprise. She’s a clever girl, and admittedly, a little bit strange. It suits her well.

However, Samson being a Slytherin isn’t something Sirius expected at all. Sure, there have been times Samson reminded Sirius of Regulus, but not to that extent. Samson was always a very achievement-oriented child, and maybe a bit selfish at times given how often he was willing to throw Charlotte under the bus when getting into trouble, but it’s still a very surprising thing to learn.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, walking into the dining room to find Sirius with his head in his hands. He responds by handing you the letter from Charlotte.

“Hmm.” You hum simply once you’re finished reading. “They’re in separate houses? We’re never going to hear the end of their bickering once quidditch starts.”

Sirius groans, pushing his hair out of his face and ignoring your comment. “They think I’m disappointed in them!

“Did you read what she said?” He exclaims, leaning back in his chair. “Sam thinks I’ll disown him! I thought the very same things about my parents when I was a boy.”

You tsk and place a hand on your husband’s shoulder, knowing his parents are quite the touchy subject for Sirius.

“Then do what your parents didn’t.” You suggest easily, giving him a comforting squeeze. “Write and reassure him—the both of them. You know Charlie; she likes to pretend things don’t bother her as much as they really do.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sirius sighs, looking up at you through the corner of his eyes. “Obviously.”

Even if Sirius is angry at himself for occasionally screwing up in the same way his own parents had, at least he’s big enough to say sorry.

[m3t4l-cru5h3r]

LIST OF FUNDRAISERS TO DONATE TO + RECIEVE ART!

Hi, everyone!

Firstly, I deeply apologize to all the people in my inbox wishing for me to answer their asks. I empathize with the hardships you are all facing and have my deepest condolences.

Formatting each ask individually was getting overwhelming, so I have decided to compile all of them into a convenient list.

As usual, remember to donate, share, and boost as much as you can! Every little bit helps! Thank you.

No matter your currency, you will be able to donate:

@familyhope3 - €254/€10,000 [DONATE NOW]

@adambinali - €38/€6,000 [DONATE NOW]

@aboyousef1973 - €3,078/€25,000 [DONATE NOW]

@abuhamdasblog - $5,605/$40,000 [DONATE NOW]

@samahsame - €25/€8,000 [DONATE NOW]

@hala-15 - FUNDRAISER DELETED, DONATE THRU PAYPAL: [DONATE NOW]

@layanramy - €725/€17,000 [DONATE NOW]

@ala-kah - €9,838/€25,000 [DONATE NOW]

@riima7900 - £1,323/£30,000 [DONATE NOW]

@basel1995s - CHF9,145/CHF60,000 [DONATE NOW]

@classydelusionbread - €1,336/€40,000 [DONATE NOW]

@yousefjehad-03 - $10,246/$15,000 [DONATE NOW]

@rewaa99 - $8,091/$50,000 [DONATE NOW]

@twins-zain-yazan - kr9,958/kr550,000 [DONATE NOW]

@ahmadayman1999 / @ayaanqar95 - €1,987/€35,000 [DONATE NOW]

@etafalqattaa/@yousef1234567 - €11,833/€100,000 [DONATE NOW]

@shadi90 - FUNDRAISER DELETED, PAYPAL LINK: [DONATE NOW]

@montahafamily - €2,205/€60,000 [DONATE NOW]

@yasermohammad - €30,617/€35,000 [DONATE NOW]

@tarnem-1 - €1,775/€60,000 [DONATE NOW]

@hazem-suhail / @nisreen-suhail - €25,091/€50,000 [DONATE NOW]

@mahmodsy1 - $11,051/$25,000 [DONATE NOW]

@fadel-dani - €825/€10,000 [DONATE NOW]

@bshaeromars-blog - $43,768/$60,000 [DONATE NOW]

@mohammednasser - €7,960/€38,000 [DONATE NOW]

@aymanayyad1 - $44,264/$50,000 [DONATE NOW]

@abedallhferwanagaza - €19,065/€35,000 [DONATE NOW]

@hane123 - €5,261/€70,000 [DONATE NOW]

@hayanahed - €99,377/€100,000 [DONATE NOW]

@balsamibrahim - €21,570/€100,000 [DONATE NOW]

@shahdgazaa - $2,992/$10,000 [DONATE NOW]

@karamrafeek - £3,590/£7,000 [DONATE NOW]

@help-belalfamily - $11,943/20,000 [DONATE NOW]

@lanamohanad7 - €20,937/€25,000 [DONATE NOW]

@aya2mohammed - €49,258/50,000 [DONATE NOW]

@hildanasr1 - €7,512/€50,000 [DONATE NOW]

@jawadff - $6,240/$30,000 [DONATE NOW]

@islamgzacc4 - €3,795/€30,000 [DONATE NOW]

@ahmadwaleed55 - $3,001/$20,000 [DONATE NOW]

@abuyasin156 - €1,400/€35,000 [DONATE NOW]

@hananalsallout - $12,349/$30,000 [DONATE NOW]

@mosabfmly - €3,669/€20,000 [DONATE NOW]

@nasreensh - $1,291/$20,000 [DONATE NOW]

@nfamily2 - €3,669/€20,000 [DONATE NOW]

@amalalkafarna14 - $25,347/$27,000 [DONATE NOW]

@ghostlyhottubdreamland - €329/€50,000 [DONATE NOW]

Pink text indicates a fundraiser is close to its goal.

(Last updated 12/26/24)

BONUS: For every $10 donation, I'll draw you a headshot in my experimental lineless style (examples above)! These are exclusive to GoFundMe donations, and cannot be recieved as a normal commission.

Message me on Tumblr, Discord (doodlinacornz), or email (doodleandacorn@gmail.com) with your donation receipt to verify.

I will draw anything from animals to people to mechs. Though complicated designs will be simplified.

Minimum of 2 subjects per piece. Guidelines on what I will draw is the same as my standard commission terms.

I will need a screenshot of your receipt, alongside the fundraiser you have donated to. Example of receipt (it will be sent by email):

Thank you! Again, please consider donating or at least sharing/boosting this post! Every little bit counts to these people's survivals!

[seelestia]

A Blessed Imperfection [1/3]

(submitted by: @/hermosacolibri. all credits go to them, this work isn't mine!)

SYNOPSIS: Many consider your disability as a burden, but he finds a way to make it a blessing in disguise. What makes us flawed is what makes us unique, and that is what he considers the most beautiful thing about you—an imperfection he dearly adores. Nevertheless, he knows of your lingering sorrows and thus seeks a way to support you in the best way he could.

WARNING(S): symptoms of chronic/terminal illness, implications of mental instability, mentions of past trauma resulting to severe injury, possible triggers, panic attacks, sleep paralysis, hallucinations, etc…

CHARACTER(S):

Aether (as Traveler & Abyss Prince), Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti, Dainsleif

NOTE: I copy-pasted this from my Quotev so if the format turns bad, that’s why lmao. Part 2 will have the Zhongli and Ayato version I submitted with some other characters from the same nations. Part 3 will be Sumeru boys and Harbingers. I will submit them at a later date lol. Anyway, I would like to leave a shameless promo here for those interested in my writing. HERE is my Quotev. For those who wish to read about my collab story here on Tumblr, it is posted by my co-writer: @intothegenshinworld

•

•

•

AETHER is like a star in the abyssal sky, constantly in sight yet far out of mortal reach. He carries the wishes of others, granting them in acts of what shall be seen as miracles or blessings. When time arrives for departure, he shoots across the cosmos with a trail of light that leaves witnesses mesmerized. Alas, he whom was born half of a whole, the name of this Traveler is forever bound to that of another—his dear sister, Lumine. Due to these same ties, he undergoes a quest across Teyvat to find her. The promise of a reunion always uttered by his lips, hopeful and eager yet never taking for granted the steps he took.

The lonely young man is at odds with the world. He could barely trust anyone after some god caused him to separate from his younger sibling. However, this humble Viator continues to treat others amiably in hopes to be treated the same way. From nation to nation, the blond adolescent sought answers from this peculiar world that felt so nostalgic yet still so foreign to him. There are trying moments of grief and frustration, but also blissful days of celebration.

Throughout this path, it was entirely unexpected for him to develop an intimate attachment.

Aether was not a stranger to bittersweet partings, as someone whom has always hopped from one world to another. For this same reason, he and Lumine try not to get too invested in any realm they visit. It was better for them as well as for everyone else that welcome them so affectionately. There must always be a particular distance to maintain, since there can be no guarantee of their stay or return. A deeper tragedy is the knowledge they can easily outlive the dwellers of any world. Witnessing the birth and death of many stars since their youth, the twins have grown rather desensitized to friendships that would not last as long as their lifespan.

That is why this separation hits them where it hurts enough to leave a scar.

Then, there was you.

As a mere mortal in a world governed by gods, you are content to live your life the best way you know. It is a lifestyle that can change at your will. One day, you can be exploring as an adventurer. The next, you are a seamstress earning your keep for the week you plan to stay with the spinsters. Every other month, you do a variety of odd jobs that you have learned throughout your lifetime. As a human, you are most hyperaware that everything can be ephemeral…

…and someday, even your soul shall be relinquished to the judgment of Celestia.

Until then, it is yours to do as you see fit.

For this reason, you felt torn by the Pyro Vision that had been bestowed upon you. While most of your peers seek the blessing of the divine gaze, you have subconsciously sought to avoid it. Many saw it as a gift but you were raised under the notion that most presents come with strings. Earning the “eye of god” meant that you are under Celestia’s watchful gaze, thus binding you to the Heavenly Principles. Their elemental blessings taunt mortals to dare reaching for the stars, and gain a place amongst the divine if they are deemed worthy of it.

Well, you personally believe that only thineself can determine one’s worth—no other, not even the gods.

Nevertheless, you move forward. Keep going on a quest without a destination, as you always do, until this fleeting life comes to its inevitable end.

Needless to say, there is one thing you genuinely did not see coming—

“I am so sorry, Miss!”

—and that was meeting your soulmate.

“It’s fine.” You replied.

Aether scrambles to collect your things while you do the same at a more relaxed pace. Your satchel had become so worn that it took a small bump to finally snap the strap. Now, all your possessions have been scattered across the ground. Fortunately, the blond stranger is a very kind and considerate young man.

Once you got everything, said stranger wasted no time apologizing profusely again.

“I should have been looking where I was walking! It was my fault.”

You tilt your head, “You could just make it up to me and we can call it even.”

His aureate eyes beamed as he nodded with an eager smile. At that moment, you wonder if he is the personification of the sun.

You smiled serenely, “I’m [Name].”

He pauses, a flicker of doubt passing through his gaze. Quick as it came, it disappeared as he smiled back—a tad softer.

“Just call me Aether.”

That day, he bought you a new satchel.

When you were younger, your parents always said that one moment is the same as a thousand—you only need one. It was a proverb that both confused and unnerved you. After they died together due to sickness, the words were haunting as you buried them before leaving your village. Every moment was cherished by you, each one unique in the best and worst of ways. However, as both you and Aether keep crossing each other’s paths after one meeting, a part of you finally thrums to life in understanding.

At one point, Aether even sought you out for a joint commission together.

“Don’t you have a travelling partner?” You asked.

He laughs sheepishly, “He’s a bit busy doing other things. Also…”

A light blush colored his cheeks, looking away as he scratched his nape lightly.

“…I wanted to spend some time with you.”

You found him cute so you agreed.

On that particular day, Aether learned something new about you. It was the little things he had been noting every time you met. The way you sometimes slur even though not a drop of alcohol can be traced from your scent, how you try so hard to keep your emotions under a certain level of control, how your eyes randomly droop even when you always look so adequately well-rested, and the pills he saw you sneak into your meals/drinks—you were ill. Perhaps, it was not the traditional ailment that left you weak and bedridden. The scariest symptom has been the occasional hallucinations that distract you, since the more vivid ones tend to set off your Vision. Anything within a meter radius is either set aflame, or rises up in temperature. It is why you always remind him to keep a certain distance whenever you tend to space out. He never prodded because you gave him the same respect of privacy by never prying into his life, even if he saw the incessant curiosity he adored about you. Still, he looks after you because he had to admit he truly grew fond of you.

Then, on your way home, you just abruptly collapsed as if your entire body went boneless.

“[Name]—!!!”

Aether caught you just in time before your head hit the ground. He checks your temperature for a fever, and then searches for some wounds you might have missed. You have a high pain tolerance, which can sometimes be a disadvantage whenever an injury goes unnoticed. There was a time a scratch almost got infected, or even when you nearly bled out because a poison prevented coagulation.

When he saw no signs, the outlander lifts you up in his arms and calls for the nearest doctor.

Thankfully, nothing was amiss and you just needed to rest while adjusting your diet.

Aether witnessed the true horror of your condition when you abruptly woke up half past midnight. He was already passed out on your bedside, sat on the ground and his head resting on his forearms. The chaise lounge would have been practical, but the blond felt the urge to be near you. At some point, he just dozed off.

On the other hand, you jolted awake with a choked gasp and widened eyes of terror. It was not due to any frightening nightmare. This is just how it always goes every time you wake up: frozen stiff, terrified, and barely breathing. Your pupils dilate as your iris moved wildly to make sense of your surroundings, pointedly ignoring the shadows manifesting into something monstrous. The candle on the nightstand was unfortunately almost fully spent, flickering to its last embers of light. With every dance, the shadows seem to get closer and slithering to get their clawed hands on you.

Alas, the candlelight spares you one last hope of salvation amidst this merciless night.

Sunshine golden hair glowed, emitting a silver halo as moonlight peeked from the half-open blinds. As much as you are able, you desperately crane your neck to see your companion. Tears blur your sight but the silhouette is unmistakable to you. His warm breath blew against your fingers, centimeters away from his lips as he breathed. Chilling goosebumps ran across your skin yet you welcomed it, hoping to regain mobility from this nightmarish paralysis. Your hand twitched, wishing to get ahold of this precious little sun—uncaring if it burns.

If you are to be like Icarus, then you would prefer an end embraced by warmth and light…

…instead of ice and darkness.

Perhaps, pyro suited you for this reason.

Your lips purse, crying in anguish to speak.

“A…Ae…A-Aether…”

To your relief, that seems to be enough to awaken the young man. However, respite is all to brief as your chest seizes up. The mere act of breathing gets difficult, and your heartbeat grew alarmingly slow as it echoed alongside the tinnitus in your ears.

Aether blinks awake, expecting the grace of morning light. Instead, he was met with your agonized gaze in a darkening room. In an instant, he snaps into full attention as he cups your face. You cannot hear him but you can guess that he must be firing questions out of concern.

“[Name], what’s wrong?! Are you in pain? What can I do? How can I help?” He exclaimed.

You gasped and hoarsely coughed.

“C-Can’t…breathe…I…”

The blond quickly thinks back to whenever Lumine experienced minor panic attacks. He assumes this is relatively similar, so he hopes his next actions will help rather than harm. Gently and carefully, he takes you into his arms. Back against the headboard, the new position situates you comfortably on his lap as one arm is secured around your waist. He takes both of your trembling hands with his free one, directing them to rest against his sternum.

“[Name],” he says softly yet firmly, “I need you to focus on me, okay? Focus for me. Hey—”

He catches your frantic gaze around the room and mindfully tilts your head back to meet his stare. They are brimming with steadfast reassurance, not at all deterred by the dark beasts. Your head rests against his shoulder, as you do as he told—closing your eyes to only relish his warmth, consume his scent, and listen to his voice.

“Breathe with me. Inhale, exhale…”

His chest rises and falls, to which you mimic the rhythm in return.

“Feel my pulse, and use it as your center.”

One hand keeps hold of his and the other seeks his heart, obeying the instructions.

The hand connected to the arm securing your back drift to your hair. At that moment, you realize that Aether’s hands are ungloved. Wandering fingers comb through your strands, calming you down with a soothing pet. Little by little, you regain movement in your limbs yet you rest limply—content.

“That’s it.” Aether whispered, “You’re doing great. Just keep repeating the exercise with me.”

“Aether…”

“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You wept and sobbed, “Aether…”

“I know.” He murmurs as he cries with you, “You’ve been so strong, [Name]. Everything’s fine. You’re not alone anymore.”

You look up, “Promise?”

He looks back, “I promise.”

The hand on his chest reaches for his white scarf as you pull him down. He obliges as his grip on you tightened, holding you close while your free hands adjust to interlace with each other.

That was the first kiss of many.

Day or night, Aether stood by you. Every battle was fought together. Every quest was finished together, sometimes with his elusive partner named Dainsleif whom was later introduced to you. On the journey to search for his sister, he even renewed his vows.

“When we find her, you can come with us.”

You smile teasingly, “I don’t have world-hopping powers.”

He narrows his eyes at you, unyieldingly headstrong and determined.

“I’ll find a way to bring you with us anyway.”

He raises your hand to his lips with a sly grin.

“You’re not getting rid of me~!”

Aether cradled you in adoration as if you were an endless summer amidst the cold loneliness of his sister’s absence. You beheld him as if he was the sun bringing life to the paradise of your evanescent mortality. The pair of you were thriving happily, hand in hand, even after discovering the truth of this world—and dictating the journey’s end.

Then, your Vision broke mysteriously, and you were condemned to an enchanted sleep.

Aether cursed the divine and all of Teyvat for it. He figured this was his price for learning the truth, but taking you will be their gravest mistake. He severes his ties with Dainsleif, whom tried to console him into taking the righteous path. He viewed you as his friend as well, and he knew you would not want this for your lover.

Now, the Abyss Prince sits by your bed—waiting in forlorn hope. His ungloved knuckles caress your cheek lovingly. You were dressed in a nightgown with abyss colors, outlined by satin ribbons of silver and gold. A crown of inteyvat rested on your head, petals scattered across your spread locks draped over silk pillows. They have grown after the past centuries but he dutifully trims them to an acceptable length.

“Your Highness,” the Abyss Herald called, “it is time.”

Aether paused. His honey gaze hardens and his aura turns cold. He breathes deeply, eyes closed to lean down and leave a chaste kiss on your brow.

“I will return shortly, my love.”

He puts on his gloves, taking leave resolutely.

Even if the sun turns black, you will both find your way back to each other. Even as the moon is painted red, goodbye shall never be an option. Every star in the sky—false or otherwise—shall bear witness to a union that even the Heavenly Principles would dare not destroy. Should this world be torn asunder, the reckoning cannot spell departure for either you or Aether. This is the eclipse that will pave the way to a new world, as the Abyss Order entails.

For if fate can only be accepted, thy vows shath be sworn by royal decree—

“You are my predestined person, the one I will always choose.”

ALBEDO discovered that there is beauty in what the heart perceives which the eyes cannot see. As an artist, he can grasp onto the concept yet is unable to truly understand it since he heavily relies upon his sight. As an alchemist, whatever eludes him may come into being by his own hands and thus enable him to attain it. The pursuit of truth is a mere matter of time and place, preordained even if hidden. As the most prized creation of Rhinedottir, he was given the task of uncovering the truth of this world for himself as a purpose in life. Even if to exist is a sin in the eyes of Celestia, he must endure and keep moving forward to reach his answers.

Amidst such dedicated research, there was little time and effort to be spared for attachments. The Chief Alchemist of Ordo Favonius finds it much too difficult to maintain. Of course, exceptions has been made throughout the years. Aside from his master, he had bonded with Alice and Klee as family. He had also made friendships with his colleagues amongst the Knights of Favonius and his subordinates, whom he taught the art of alchemy. Alas, as an artificial human created by a sinner, he feels as if he can never belong anywhere. Regardless of these bonds, the Kreideprinz feels as if a part of his heart remains hollow. 

It came to him that this place was reserved for you, the apple of his eye.

Ever since Albedo met you, a new muse began to live within his heart. People consider it as seeing the world through rosy lenses; but for him, it felt as if everything appeared clearer than facts…

…and it was beautiful.

The sun shines brighter. The wind blows cooler. The grass looks greener. Therefore, life is that much greater and sweeter. He is still in pursuit of truth, yet he felt as if the magnum opus was already in his hands—molded in the shape of you.

His only lament was that you could not see it alongside him.

You were not born blind. It happened from an act of jealousy and unkindness. Before you came to the City of Freedom, you were a noblewoman dwelling in Fontaine and worked as an artist. Much like him, you love to paint and draw but Albedo always argues that you were better at it. He had seen your works long ago, and every single piece has never failed to inspire him. It was as if each painting can bequeath aspirations, letting it blossom from the hearts of the people that view it.

Then, news spread that your entire atelier was set on fire while you were still in it…

…and then, you lost your eyes.

The Hydro Vision in your hand may have been the sole reason you even survived. Many speculated that you can never make art the same way again.

You came to Mondstadt, wishing to break free from the suffocating experience. You struggled to regain your passion, overcome your sorrows.

Then, you met Albedo; and one thing led to another.

It started when you were taking a stroll in Springvale with your guide dog, Vincent. He is a very spirited Golden Retriever, protective and responsible. You both stumble upon a young girl named Klee, whom was busy fighting a bunch of hilichurls. You opted to stand aside and calm your snarling canine friend, petting his head. When your keen hearing detected irregular breathing and racing heartbeat, you realize that the little girl was getting overwhelmed. She must have fought other hoards before your arrival, and now you hear slimes joining the fray. Thus, you order Vincent to keep his distance and engaged.

Sword unsheathed from your walking cane, you attack the ones behind Klee. Her bombs startled you when they exploded too close, but your hydro shield easily deflected any friendly fire. Vapor damage is then redirected to the monsters, tempering the girl’s mines and lasers so your skin will not be singed by the building heat. Vincent was barking wildly like a supportive cheerleader, growling whenever you get nicked or whenever the other girl yelped.

Soon, the fight was over.

The pitter-patters of tiny feet went towards you, and stopped at an arm’s length. You look down, smiling kindly yet not sheathing your blade.

“Thank you for helping Klee!” She chirped.

You chuckle, “You’re welcome.”

Vincent came running towards you, shamelessly  nuzzling your legs. He then licks Klee’s hand in his own way of befriending her, causing the girl to giggle from the ticklish sensation. She hugs him around the neck, and you can only tilt your head in amusement.

“What’s your name, Miss?”

“You may call me [Name].”

The hairs at your nape rose. Although you can see nothing else but darkness, your eyes also snapped open with a dark glower. By instinct, you swung your sword to strike whomever snuck behind you.

A resounding clang echoed in your ears, as metal struck against metal. Another sword has parried yours skillfully yet makes no move to counter.

“Brother Albedo…!” Klee exclaims.

Upon realization that this is no stranger, you swiftly disengaged with a soft apology. The gesture was returned as the man apologized for startling you. To your amazement, Vincent did not seem to be wary of this newcomer. The dog merely barked gruffly, a bit admonishing, instead of growling defensively like he always did.

“You dropped this.” Albedo said.

You hesitantly presented your hand to receive whatever he was giving. A familiar cloth is placed on your palm. You belatedly realized that it was your blindfold. It is a durable silk fabric that kept your burn scars from showing. Your disfigured face has been exposed all this time for Klee to see.

It must have been a horrifying sight—

“Your eyes are very pretty, Miss [Name]!”

Your breath hitched at the unexpected compliment, turning away shyly. As you wore the blindfold again, Klee notices Albedo smiling in awe at you. She put up her hands to cover her mouth and muffle her mischievous giggles.

“I agree.” He murmured.

You nodded, “Many thanks.”

Albedo never told you, but for him, it was love at first sight the moment his eyes met yours. There have been solitary days spent in Dragonspine where he wondered tirelessly:

Would it have been a mutual feeling if you could have seen him back then too?

From then onwards, the mysterious alchemist had turned into a close friend. He acted as a personal pillar of support in unexpected ways. The little ball of sunshine that is Klee turned into a source of lighthearted joy for you as well. They tend to visit your home in the city together, offering gifts and knick-knacks. The habitual meetings resulted into some new friends who helped you settle down in Mondstadt, especially Eula. Her own aristocratic lineage helped you two bond about a lot of things, even when she vehemently rejects hers—which is frankly for understandable reasons. You both share the sentiment that genuine nobility upholds the belief of noblesse oblige above all.

Albedo, most of all, enabled you to regain the love you thought had been lost forever with your sight.

Although life still hit hard with how you struggle to create art, your appreciation for it was reborn and you are experiencing everything all over again as something new. Regardless of the burns and scars that made you insecure, the Kreideprinz made you feel nothing less than desirable and deserving of love. Though the blankness of your gaze saddens him, and sometimes even angers him due to the injustice you were dealt—he saw beauty in all that is you, and everything that blossoms from your hands.

Just for a moment, he wanted to show you what he sees the only way he knew: to create.

Vincent guided you into Albedo’s personal art studio in Mondstadt. The canine looked more excited than you. He nipped at the alchemist's white coat, tail wagging as he sat by your feet but paid attention to your lover. Charming eyes swept between you two as if awaiting praise and treats for a job well done.

For a moment, Albedo was reminded of Klee and it made him smile. He kneels down before the dog, patting his head. After a few minutes of petting, he relinquishes the promised treat.

Vincent then ran to his corner, satisfied. Usually, he is very protective and ends up hovering next to you; but with Albedo, he knows you are safe.

You giggled amusedly.

“Sometimes,” your lover sighed, “I think he only likes me to get treats and headpats. He also only comes to me by whining to play.”

You smirked teasingly, “Sounds familiar.”

Albedo paused before giving you a scolding look, yet the twitching smile betrayed him. He was then taken aback when you presented him a small gift bag and a bouquet of cecilia flowers.

“Happy Anniversary~!” You said.

He smiles, accepting your gifts to greet you back.

“Happy Anniversary, [Name].”

Per usual greeting, Albedo takes your hands in his to let them settle. Then, you let go to just feel as they glide across his skin. He closes his eyes to relish your caresses, nuzzling when you reach his face and touched his cheeks. From there, you felt his smile and it spurned yours.

However, as the alchemist opened his eyes, he had witnessed the spark of sadness in yours.

On your first anniversary together, Albedo crafted a special gift. A wooden easel held a blank canvas, or so it seems. If not for the colorful palette and wet brushes, nobody would spare it any glance or even thought. He guides you in front of him, encasing you in his arms and pressing his chest to your back. His lips whispered instructions almost seductively, soft and sensual as he lifted your hands to move them forward.

“Go ahead.” He implored your touch.

Fingertips make contact with what seems to be a canvas, but with bumps on it that definitely felt like braille. Your brows furrowed in confusion, unable to interpret it as anything. You can decipher some sort of pattern, but nothing in the braille alphabet comes to mind that makes sense.

“Don’t think in words, love.” Albedo advised, “Imagine it as you would paint a landscape.”

He is familiar with your art technique. After all, he has always been a fan since he first purchased your work at an auction. His keen observation noticed that the colors bloom from the center. Then, multiple layers come to refine the structure and control the shades. Once the painting is complete, the basic foundations are harder to notice but details never escape Albedo. To him, it felt like he was seeing two images in a single painting: one perceived by sight, and another perceived by heart—dual masterpieces for the price of one.

You follow his words and thus you begin to deduce a work of something.

The braille patterns made you think of Mondstadt’s flower meadows, petals of cecilia and seedheads of dandelions fluttering in the breeze. An orb that seems to be the sun is raised eastward with what appeared to be outlines of birds, aflight in the cloudy horizon. There are faint marks connoting mountains in the distance, and flowing swirls that felt like wave patterns along the coast. To further understand his message, you sought the center much like how you used to paint.

Albedo detects your newfound focus, aware that an image has been imprinted upon your mind.

“[Name],” he murmured tenderly, “I need you to keep your hands on the canvas. I will guide you in this next step. Do you trust me?”

You smiled meaningfully, “Always.”

A loving caress upon your skin is accompanied by a chaste kiss on your crown.

“I cannot give you the world—”

Then, the brailles moved.

“—but I can leave a piece of it in your hands.”

You quickly realize that the brailles were not made of ordinary material. Days and nights of listening to your lover’s random alchemy ramblings allowed you to learn a thing or two. This braille painting has been constructed with special elemental crystals. From the feel of it, they respond strongly to elemental energy—particularly yours and Albedo’s combined, both currently being channeled. Depending on the crystal, it can resonate with other elements.

Beneath your hands, the patterns moved in looping motion to signify that it was animated. Furthermore, the energy that resonated from every shard is almost alive. Anemo can be felt from the swaying of the dandelions, and dendro amplified the scent of the scattered cecilia across the grassland. Even the painted sun emits a comforting warmth due to hints of pyro, as if bathing the scenery with its light. The waves along the shoreline felt moist due to hydro, which resonated strongly with you—and for a short second, you actually miss Fontaine. The mountains are the familiar cold of cryo, which then registered for you that it was likely a reference of Dragonspine.

Just from this, your mind’s eyes can almost envision the outline of a city—one founded by Barbatos.

In Albedo’s eyes, the special formula for the paint which Sucrose helped him concoct had finally revealed itself. To outsiders, the canvas is nothing more but a lumpy surface. In truth, the blind will see its true form; and when given life via elemental energy, the rest will be unveiled. To you whom once knew the colors of the world, the simple animations of the image form a kaleidoscope that provides you melancholic nostalgia. By your fingertips, it certainly felt as if Albedo had given you a piece of the world that only you can see.

For this one moment, he and you can perceive the same world.

Tears gathered in your eyes yet a heartfelt smile radiantly shone upon your face. A sob of genuine happiness wracked your throat. As your knees begin to weaken, you leaned on the man that helped you see again—

—even if only a few seconds.

Albedo also smiled in relief, fully embracing you around the shoulders in support. He let you take in the moment while he basked under the blessing of your presence.

“If there is anything else you wish to see again,” he solemnly swore, “I will be your eyes and shall piously present its sights to you.”

At his oath, you abruptly let go of the painting and turned. Cupping his face in your hands, your lips eagerly meet his. Albedo returns your passionate amor with fervor, ever delighted to please you. He wishes to someday discover the truth of this world, as his master bade him to do. His one desire is that you would be there beside him when he does.

Even if destruction came by his hand, he already knows one truth by heart—

“The beauty of this world forever pales in comparison to you.”

DILUC RAGNVINDR is an uncrowned king raised as a noble gentleman of chivalry and gallantry. From the fiery red of his hair to his stern crimson glare, he upholds his aristocratic lineage with dignity. The cumbersome title of lord dictates the gravity of his obligations to Mondstadt. Whether as a nocturnal vigilante or as master of Dawn Winery, those who dare to threaten his home will face the wrath of his flames. Sinners who refuse penance shall have their blood paint the mighty blade of his claymore, as a furious firebird sends the wicked to retribution.

As a man coveted by many, he keeps his circle small and tightly knit. An outsider’s only chance to ever earn his favor is to either make themselves useful to Mondstadt, or by earning the approval of his more compassionate wife.

That woman is none other than you.

Diluc met you as a playmate in his childhood. His father, Master Crepus, was both a close friend and trusted business partner of your parents. Like the Ragnvindrs, your family specializes in the wine industry—specifically the medicinal values that are incorporated in liquor. Although your own father is from Mondstadt, he settled down in Liyue upon marrying your mother. Secretly, you and Diluc were arranged to be married. Everything worked out well since you both actually liked each other a lot. He was a very protective yet supportive friend, while you were a tactful and encouraging listener. When Kaeya had joined the family, the three of you became quite the inseparable trio.

Then, Crepus Ragnvindr died.

Everything happened so fast. Before you knew it, your fiancé chose to disappear and left only a single note for you as goodbye. It was not even a proper farewell, at least not the kind he made sure to give you every time. Even if there was little to no sincere romance in your engagement, you both respected each other as equals. However, his final note had completely staggered you.

“Don’t wait for me.” It said.

Such a heavy message in merely four words…

You understand what he means by it. He has made a decision wherein he would prefer to not involve you, and thus opting to let you go. The contract regarding the engagement was never too binding. Crepus had assured that either of you can break it off if you both reach such a consensus. However, the former head of the Ragnvindr Clan did not just choose any girl to be paired with his son. He specifically took interest in you because he always knew—if any woman can ever match his son and heir in terms of headstrong stubbornness, it can only be you.

With the patience of a saint, you graciously accepted Diluc’s decision. However, it did not mean you would back down so easily.

Honestly, you see it as poor manners to just leave things with a note. You have to just wait in the Dawn Winery so you can give him a proper scolding upon his inevitable return. Until then, you were more than willing to manage everything else on his behalf. The servants are ecstatic to find out you meant to stay despite their young master’s wishes. Your parents are also very considerate, only ever wishing for your happiness since then and now.

Under your supervision, Dawn Winery flourished and maintained dignity after the loss of its masters. You hold the cunning and integrity of any businessman worth their salt. Adelinde, Elzer, and the entire staff can attest that you are more strict than even the late Lady Ragnvindr—wife of Master Crepus.

Kaeya never confided to you whatever caused the fallout between him and his brother. However, he seemed so relieved and touched when you did not treat him differently. If anything, you seem to dote on him even more now—like a real older sister. He thus returns your kind and loving care equally, a bout of protectiveness that rivals your absent fiancé.

Years later, tragedy struck once again.

You were mistaken as the official Lady Ragnvindr by whichever enemies Diluc had made. They aimed to lure him out by means of threatening his supposed wife, taking you hostage. Despite being Visionless, you were far from a pushover. You did not go down without a fight and worked to plan your escape.

In the end, your captors thought you to be more trouble than your worth…

…and so, they aimed to kill you.

It is only due to Kaeya’s timely arrival this instance that you did not follow Crepus.

However, you did not get out of the incident perfectly unscathed. The brutality you suffered had caused a critical and permanent injury on your spine. It is with heavy hearts that the doctors informed you of the grim situation: you can never walk again.

Diluc promptly returned to Mondstadt when Kaeya relayed the news to him via letter. He had been so devastated to realize that you almost died because of him. He wanted to protect you by letting you go, but he underestimated your resolve. In his mind, he knew the only way to truly get you far away from him is to make you hate him. Upon finding courage to visit you, he doubled down on his determination when he left you years ago. You deserve better, and the life he could give you as Lady Ragnvindr will only be a disappointment. You deserve so much better than waking up to a cold, empty bed and waiting on late nights.

He opened the door to your room in his manor, ready to break your heart so you can leave him.

However, his hardened goal fell short.

You sat by the window, as beautiful as the day he last saw you. Even confined to a wheelchair, you remain smiling so warmly. Your enchanting gaze meets his crimson pair, and he melted at the sheer adoration you bestowed upon him. Your cheeks took a rosy glow, and your smile widened—lips moving to utter words of welcoming him back home, yet he cannot hear a thing. His only thoughts revolved on how badly he wanted to kiss you right now.

Diluc missed you so much, and hence he realized that he really is a fool.

How can he ever survive if he truly broke your heart, the most precious thing you entrusted to him?

“Marry me.” He said.

Much to his surprise, you only laughed and accepted—as if you always believed he would return to you.

It was truly laughable how easily you can weaken his resolve with a mere smile.

“It took you long enough, Master Diluc~!”

You winked at him as you laughed. Despite your lighthearted cheer, the redhead can see that the years apart took a toll on you. He crossed the room in graceful strides and he saw you more vividly. The bags under your eyes did little to dull their sparkle; the hollowness of your cheeks worried him but the rosy hue amplified their glamor; and your pallor was a little too pale for his liking, yet the freckles across your nose reassured him that you get enough sun on a daily basis.

Then, he bends down to hold you close and buries his face at the crook of your neck.

Your heart skipped lightly.

Then, you hugged him back—more tightly.

Diluc said nothing as he felt his shoulder get wet, and you did not make a sound as yours trembled.

“Welcome home.” You whispered.

He grits his teeth to fight against the tears.

“I’m home.” He murmurs.

The marriage started a little awkwardly. Three years had been a long time, and you both had changed in ways that put a strain on your dynamic. However, as you both learned to trust each other the way you did as kids, everything else flowed smoothly. You relied on him as he relied on you. Thanks to your endless patience, you managed to help your dear husband in anything that troubled his heart. At times, it is only by your gentle interventions that his overprotective tendencies can be quelled. It had become norm for the people of Mondstadt to see you at a cozy corner of Angel’s Share—beside the bar, whenever your husband took a shift. Any shenanigans are put to a stop by a warning glare that seemed more scathing than any other nights. None of the patrons—drunk or otherwise—dare to start any ruckus as long as you were present in the tavern.

There is nothing that Diluc kept from you anymore, as he claimed no more secrets. Although, he was curious when you steered clear if the topic is Kaeya.

“It’s not just your secret to share.” You reasoned.

The redhead felt his love and respect for you deepen at the claim.

Now, you sat in your husband’s office. While he was busy doing paperwork, you did embroidery on a silk pillow that got torn. However, there was a stifling air in the room that bothered him.

“What is it?” Diluc asked.

You raise a brow, “What do you mean?”

He stared back knowingly, “You have been redoing the same stitch for the past half hour. That only happens when you’re distracted; and you’re only ever distracted when something is troubling you.”

The redhead leans back on his chair, dropping his quill to cross his arms.

“So,” he continued, “what is it?”

You blushed at the fact you were caught so easily, but also flattered by how he is so attentive to you.

Diluc is then worried by your prolonged hesitance, gradually standing up from his chair. He walks up to you leisurely, kneeling by your side. His gloved hands take yours, mindful of your needlework as he placed it on the table. His vibrant eyes implore you to share your burdens, waiting and encouraging.

“I lied to you.”

He frowns at your blunt confession but said nothing, tilting his head to let you continue.

“On our wedding,” you reminisced, “you asked me what I wanted most so you could provide it. I replied that there was nothing more I could ever want since you asked me to marry you for real.”

Your right hand carefully broke free from his, rising to tuck his fringe away. Your palm rests on his cheek and your husband savored it with fondness. He then recalls being ready to arrange a grandiose wedding that day, remembering how much you rambled about being like a princess in your shared childhood. As a young boy, it used to grate on his nerves; but as your fiancé, Diluc found it necessary to pay attention.

Back then, he did not question it when you asked for a simpler celebration. After all, a lot has changed between him and you—for better and for worse.

“However,” you murmured, “there was one thing I had truly wished to experience with you.”

Your eyes stray away from his, drifting towards the unfinished embroidery pillow. His own eyes follow, and he immediately understands. The picture’s basic design depicts a pair of lovers dancing under the moonlit night. A gazebo frames their silhouettes while lampgrass grew around its base structure.

A wedding dance.

Diluc looks back up to you, smiling in exasperated affection. He then leans forward, taking you into his arms as he stood up. A mild squeak escapes your lips as your own arms clung to his neck, caught off guard by his sudden movement. Your husband steps out of the room while carrying you, yet offers no explanation whatsoever. Although you felt confused, it did not stop you from relaxing in his embrace and just leaning against him.

The redhead took you to the main foyer, and headed straight towards a small library corner. He dismisses the maid stationed to clean it, leaving you both in privacy. First, you were placed on the recliner near the fireplace. Then, he walked towards the old yet pristine gramophone. It belonged to his mother, he vaguely remembers. His father told him that she always loved to collect vinyls, a bittersweet sheen of unconditional love shining in his eyes.

The young lord wonders if the two of you would also remain as in love when you get older together.

“Diluc, what is this all about—”

You trailed off as waltz music began to play.

“When my wife wishes to dance,” he says, “what kind of husband am I to refuse?”

A suave smirk on his handsome face leaves you so utterly breathless. Your heart races, bursting with an unspeakable joy to call this man yours. Captivated by the sight of him, you can only watch as he strides back to you—charming as a prince straight out of a fairy tale book. His gloved hand is presented with a chivalrous bow, his rare theatric side being shown only for you—always only for you.

“May I have this dance, Milady?” He asks.

You gape speechlessly for a minute. A part of you was reluctant. How can you possibly dance in this circumstance? Nonetheless, you trust Diluc more than anything so you accepted.

“You may.”

Diluc gives a dazzling smile at your faith in him, and gently pulls you up. He expertly places your feet on his shoes, carrying your weight as you swayed. One of your hands is on his shoulder while one of his arms is wrapped firmly around your waist, holding you close. Your respective free hands are entwined, inseparable and perfectly at ease.

The marital couple moved fluidly and gracefully. You entrusted your body completely, to be moved in this dance he led confidently. Your patience and trust are returned by his warmth and protection, cradling you in a chrysalis that hopes to let you flourish. He even dares to help you twirl, making the skirt of your dress flutter like the petals of a wild rose in bloom.

The dreamlike sequence ends as he dips you into an intimate position. Heartbeats skip in sync, never of fear but of exhilaration.

Your hands leave his, believing he would never let you fall even if you let go. His grip transferred to your back and your nape, eager to be your support. You caress his face and pull him down for a searingly passionate kiss. He indulges you wholly, taking all that you have willingly given him. Your fingers shook as they entangle with his red mane. With the ease of a man who wields a claymore, he lifts you up. Your arms held tight around his neck, tilting into a new angle to not break the kiss. The fervor is returned a hundred fold, as if Diluc wishes nothing more than to fuse his soul with yours.

You are the one who empowers his flames, igniting his heart as your chosen Ifrit.

He made a vow at the altar, and not even death can do you part anymore—

“The privilege to call you mine is an honor I cannot surrender to fate.”

KAEYA ALBERICH is someone painfully aware of the power in words, and uses it to his advantage. He is as mysterious as he is efficient at being the Cavalry Captain of Ordo Favonius. The charisma he exudes can be as menacing as the frigid coldness of his Cryo Vision. The swiftness of his blade can be more merciful than the secrets he ruthlessly exploits. As much as he is admired by his peers, everyone can unanimously agree that his enigmatic ways leave them a little wary to trust him entirely. Nevertheless, the cunning of a flightless bird is just as deadly as the venom of a pit viper. A reluctance to comply is merely a sign to delve deeper.

In the carefree city of Mondstadt, only one has squared up to his level and defeated him—

—in every sense of the word.

You are the dainty little assistant of Lisa Minci, the resident librarian of Mondstadt. She slyly evades all attempts of divulging how and from where she met you. It is rumored she just found you sewing some of her worn books one day, and then decided that she has to have you as her assistant. The only other thing known about your relationship with her is that she can be extremely protective to the point of territorial. Similarly, nobody can fully understand the eccentricities demonstrated by the Witch of Purple Rose as much as you do. Since your employment, a peaceful synergy can be observed in the workings of the library and even the Knights of Favonius HQ.

The most notable thing about you is how you never limit your goodwill to work. Anyone you can reach is always on the receiving end of compassion. As such examples, Lisa has proudly introduced you to many of her prestigious friends. Since then, it had become a norm for them to see you.

Jean always ends up a little more relaxed with the cups of coffee you brew for her. You serve her tea as a silent insistence when it was time to rest. Albedo and Sucrose now have a habit of asking your referral in finding the best locations for any ingredients they would need. At random times, you appear around the corner to help Noelle in the most menial tasks and labors. Whenever Amber returns from her daily outriding, she would find you welcoming her by the gates with some food and water. Lastly, even Eula has begun picking you up to join her for lunch on weekends. You are the only civilian that never treats her differently, and actually seems to like her very much as a friend.

In a bout of poetic irony, the only one that seems to rarely receive your kindness was Kaeya.

Of course, you were far from unkind or cruel. You still greet him amicably every time you cross paths in the hallways or city streets. However, his shrewd gaze can detect your hesitance to interact with him for prolonged periods of time. Politely asking you about it did him no good as well. You only stared at him skeptically before shrugging, as if he should know the answer. A part of him questioned why it even bothered him so much, but perhaps it was a matter of ego. He knows himself well enough to be aware that it could be the reason he kept persisting on gaining your favor.

When Kaeya decided to tell Lisa about his situation, she had the gall to laugh at him.

“It’s because she sees right through you.”

Kaeya raises a brow, “I beg your pardon?”

Lisa smiles sharply, “My darling [Name] is an astute judge of character. It’s one of the reasons I adore her so much. Like you, she also knows her way with words. The more you talk while she listens, the more she compares the character she sees in your eyes and the persona that speaks with your lips. If they don’t match up, she will consider you to be too dangerous.”

For a moment, the Cavalry Captain felt his eyes darken defensively. A second later, they return to being detachedly bemused.

The Witch of Purple Rose catches the slip but does not comment about it. In fact, she willingly closes her eyes to let the man have his moment. However, she did continue to speak her piece.

“You’re not a bad guy,” she states, “and she knows that well. However, [Name] is the type who does not like to converse with people that refuse to respect the weight of the words they speak.”

A beaming smile is given by the librarian as she pats her colleague on his shoulder.

“Try speaking a little more honestly! It might earn you some brownie points.” She said.

Kaeya wanted to claim he is not going to bother and that he will just leave it at that. Alas, it seems he had found his match and could not resist your allure. In the end, he nodded before taking his leave.

To Lisa’s credit, her advice worked.

Obviously, Kaeya did not lay everything out in the open; but he became more sincere in his efforts to befriend you. To his pleasant surprise, you may be taciturn and reserved but it did not make you shy at all. If anything, you were quite bold for a pretty little damsel. He playfully flirted with you a few times and you were barely fazed. You even flirted back with teasing glances and fleeting touches that—he was impressed to admit—flustered him in shock. Your dollface can be deceiving as well. He had seen you pettily tattle to Lisa about patrons that give you a hard time. In turn, the mage trusts you to be the one to remind her of anyone who is late on their book returns. Thus, he watched you just peacefully sip tea while your employer terrorized the poor souls that earned her wrath with an innocent smile.

You rewarded the Cavalry Captain’s honest efforts by opening up to him a little.

It is here that Kaeya learned you were mute.

The cause was a very unfortunate birth defect when you were born prematurely. Your vocal chords did not grow correctly and almost suffocated you. The doctors were forced to remove it entirely via surgery so you can survive. Growing up, you became quite the bookworm because of this disability. You found solace in the immersion of reading the words you can never speak. It gradually turned you into a very talented scholar worthy of Lisa’s attention. Your nurturing ways with books and your preservation of comfort amidst the silence certainly gained merits.

Of course, your reserved nature did not mean you are to be underestimated.

The Witch of Purple Rose chose you as her personal assistant and sole substitute for a reason. It can be argued that you are potentially more frightening. You are the calm before the storm; and when you strike, no one ever sees it coming. Whenever hooligans think they can just steal books from the restricted section, every single one will be found hogtied and gagged on the Knights of Favonius’ doorsteps. A damsel you may appear but the only distress that can be felt is by the drunkards, who think they can harrass you without direct consequences. In fact, you made it your personal vendetta to discipline every member of Barbara’s fanclub and their stalker tendencies. A failure to comply forces them into public humiliation by wearing nun attires, and then prostrating themselves in front of Barbatos to beg for forgiveness.

Venti had an interesting view when he woke up from his nap on the statue’s hands.

The job of Cavalry Captain became that much more entertaining, and easier too.

Public ordinance is now easy to handle for all the patrolling knights, whom often need to tread lightly just to appease the common folks. Although the Acting Grandmaster would never say it outloud due to her soft nature, she was thankful for this subtle measures you have been making—especially in regards to her sister’s privacy and safety. Even the stoic Master Diluc seems to respect you since he actually makes effort to greet you more than he does any other stranger in the streets. Your drinks in Angel’s Share are discounted too, which is always a plus after a long day of work. Lisa took advantage of this perk just to tease.

As he got to know you, Kaeya finally arrived to a profoundly frightening conclusion.

He was falling in love with you.

No, he may have already fallen the moment you had turned into his newest fixation. The icy captain can recall Lisa’s words—how you judge people based on the character in their eyes, if it matches the persona that speaks. You actually looked at him and saw him with just a single glance; and when his words blurred the truth, his facade was already unraveling before your piercing gaze. You rejected him because he was denying the lost boy you see, and you embraced him when the charismatic captain found felicity in your companionship. You accepted both sides even if you knew nothing about either of them.

However, for all his clever ways in manipulating the feelings of others, Kaeya is powerless at the face of his own emotions.

Hence, the reasonable thing in his perspective is to simply run away from you.

It hurt you but it was something you also understood quite well. As mentioned, you were aware of Kaeya’s true character from the get-go. It was fine if this is really what he wants. You both lived your lives just fine when keeping your respective secrets. That should not change just because romantic feelings are now involved.

Lisa and your friends firmly believed otherwise.

Your doting older sister figure tells you one day that the elusive captain left a message. He says to meet him in Windrise, where Jean had put him on patrol for suspicious activity of the Abyss Order. In a twist of fate nobody expected, they even managed to get Diluc involved to make the information appear to be legitimate. The redhead claims he was getting sick of Kaeya's face brooding over you in Angel’s Share.

All else, as they say, was history when you were both given a chance to confront the truth together.

Now, Kaeya watches over your sleeping form on his bed—tuckered out from today’s work.

You are curled up to his chest, nuzzling his clavicle like a kitten. A delightful shiver ran through his spine every time your warm breaths hit his skin. Your left arm is draped over his waist while your right hand rested over his chest. His own arm cushions your head, bent by the elbow to poise himself up while he ran his fingers through your hair. The other one holds you close by the waist, legs intertwined so no space remains. The moonlight peeks through the curtains, basking you in afterglow that left him mesmerized every night. Leaning down, his lips tenderly kissed your brow as his embrace tightened possessively.

He grins as he felt your fingers move drowsily on his back, crumpling the blouse.

“Why are you watching me sleep?”

You drew special patterns to speak, blinking your eyes open to stare blankly at your lover.

He chuckles, bending down to give you an eskimo kiss while tracing words on your back as well.

“You look too beautiful to be true.”

You hummed in the form of a soft exhale, observing your beloved closely. Your hand leaves his back and reached up to his face, tucking his fringe behind his ear to see both of his eyes. It no longer concerns him to let you see his normally hidden eye, which flickered for a fraction of a second. He disclosed everything long ago. He has nothing else to hide, not from you at least—never again from you.

In fact, the language you were both using to silently communicate is from Khaenri'ah.

Kaeya invented the sign language of it and taught it to you. In public, people think it is just a cute secret between couples; but you knew better. There is a power in words, and Kaeya had entrusted you this in particular—a piece of his true self that only you can keep. Not even Diluc knew this much about him, as their bond of brotherhood shattered before he could make an attempt. Henceforth, you use this sign to talk with him privately and send messages only for your dear captain to decipher.

As you caressed his cheek, Kaeya sighed in perfect bliss. He leans towards your touch, turning his head to press a loving kiss on your palm. His own hand reached up to keep it in place. Delicately, his index finger traces another message on your knuckles.

“You’re not just a sweet dream, are you?”

Your eyes softened in understanding, smiling in hopes to alleviate his insecurities. Your hand directs his to your heart, much like how your other one stays above his own. Two hearts beat as one, delivering a mutual confession beknownst only to you and him.

Your lips moved and his unique eyes read them as if they held the meaning of life.

“I’m real, and I’m yours.”

Unable to help himself, Kaeya changes positions to loom over you. He pins your hands by the wrist on either sides of your head. You let him, locking eyes to wait until he regains his anchor to reality. As he straddles you, he leans down and his scarred eye glows with an unknown power. For a moment, the star in his misty blue orb sharpened into a slit. Then, his grip eventually loosens. Your arms soon take the chance to slither around his neck. You pull him down to your level, sensually slow to leave him in intense anticipation. Once he is a mere breath away, you lean up and forward.

Kaeya never fails to find sanctuary in your embrace, and salvation in your kiss. The taste of ambrosia is as addictive as the first time. He wanted more—needed more, even if it meant unequivocal demise.

One of his hands seeks one of yours, pressing against the mattress to interweave. A final message is traced as you both succumb to the passion that has waged wars since the dawn of creation.

“I love you.”

If the day of reckoning ever comes for him, the last hope of Khaenri'ah knows he does not stand alone.

Kaeya will always remember to seek out your light, and savor the hour of respite in your shadow. He holds faith in no god nor archon; but before you, he shall bend the knee in devoted worship.

This lost prince of sinners may be predestined for damnation, but he prays in your name—

“You are my northern star, the light that guides me back home.”

VENTI is a bard whose secrets are guarded by the lullabies of yesteryore and evermorrow. He holds the face of jubilant youth, yet his eyes tell a tale as old as time. While his voice mellifluously sings of tunes so spirited and free, his heart weighs heavy with the burden of an untold sacrilege. A couple thousand years can be a long time, yet the agony remains as fresh as the memories of a lucid dream. As he dons a smile that hopes to brighten the days and luminate the nights of Mondstadt, his soul belies the image of a nameless friend long gone. At times when the winds blew too coldly, he relies on the burning heat that drips down his throat—a taste so fine yet so bitter, like the freedom he idolizes.

Memories remind people what matters most, a life’s purpose to never forsake. However, more often than not, they come with the cruel regrets of what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. Henceforth, in tiresome days, the expense of living gets a little too much; and in sleepless nights, the weight of existing gets a little heavier.

Alas, when stars align just right, the wind will lead a pair of soulmates to find one another.

In Venti’s case, you found him.

It is actually very difficult to get him drunk, even if he acts otherwise. To be precise, he recovers quicker by getting sober minutes after he felt tipsy—and then, he would be downing another bottle. It is annoying for someone who just wants to forget his problems, but that is partially why he became accustomed to binge drinking. His rate of alcohol consumption would kill an average human, via alcohol poisoning, by the time he actually blacks out.

Amidst this cold and lonely night, the windborn bard was spared an ounce of warmth by a kind muse.

Venti woke up in a peculiar cottage that smelled of pollen and varnished wood. He heard the chirping of bluebirds, rousing him further away from his drowsy haze. A ray of sunshine peeks through the hanging cheap fabric used as curtains. He sits up, braids all messy with a very entangled bedhead.

As he stumbled out of the bedroom, the familiar sounds of Der Frühling beckoned him to the front porch. His veteran ears can attest that the notes are undoubtedly produced by a musician's hands, but a mere novice in the ways of the lyre. There was a harmonious flow in melody, yet the tone and pitch held little to no finesse in-between transitions. A sense of sheepish uncertainty distorts the song, but there was a certain charm in its dissonance.

He turns a corner, and there he saw you—

—a young dame sat upon a rickety swing, taming the bluebirds that sang for her strings.

The amused bard leaned against the doorway to watch the free show. His gleaming teal eyes stared blatantly, mesmerized by his supposed hostess. You wore an outfit that resembled his, but more modest and somewhat mismatched in color palette—an odd choice for a fellow bard. The only flashy thing about you is the Anemo Vision pinned onto your hair as it tied up your headband braid. It functioned as a hair ornament surrounded with cecilia and windwheel aster petals. A teal silk ribbon was mixed into your braid as its curled tail fluttered under your Vision ornament.

You seem to be inexperienced with the lyre, as Venti had confirmed upon seeing your performance; but you are still quite precise in your play. In theory, you hold enough knowledge to figure out which note works for a particular measure. Before he realized it, his own voice begins humming alongside the chirps of the gathered songbirds.

Alas, joining your small choir of avian creatures had startled them into flying away.

You also stiffened with a surprised jolt, practically snapping your head to look back at him. He does note that it was the birds’ exit that had shocked you, and not his soundly abrupt entrance.

“Ehe~!” Venti giggled nervously, “Sorry about that.”

You fumbled for a moment yet held the lyre firmly, careful to keep it steady. Standing up, you then walk over to him even though you shook in anxiety. Ever so tenderly, you returned his dearest Der Frühling as if handing over a precious baby.

Venti finds this heartwarming and endearing, having not met a fellow bard as considerate as you. He thus receives his lyre with gratitude, tracing its frame and plucking the strings. He marvels at the fact you even polished the instrument and retuned the strings.

“Many thanks, fellow bard~!” He chirped, “My name is Venti. May I know yours?”

You stared blankly at him for a moment, as if taking a few minutes to decipher his words. He spoke a little too quickly on purpose, patiently observing if you would prove his suspicions. As soon as you finally understood, you replied with some stutters in-between your syllables. It seemed more like a sound of uncertainty rather than a speech impediment.

“I-I am…[Name].”

A deaf virtuoso—the windborn bard believes you will make an interesting friend.

Ever since that day, Venti developed a habit of either visiting your abode or seeking you to hang out in the city. His consistent presence helped you be more comfortable in conversations. There was little to no stutters in-between your sentences now. As a bard whom prided himself in knowing all music of the past and future, the art of sign language is a helpful skill he utilized to pleasantly astound you.

The bard had never seen any mortal beam so bright when you smiled at him that day.

While you have gotten comfortable with him, Venti has also grown comfortable with you. There have been many incidents wherein his smiling mask just naturally came down around you. By your side, he felt more freedom than he has ever experienced in the past centuries. He knew it was dangerous to let this continue. The god in disguise has always been meticulously aware of his own feelings; and he was more than aware that he is falling for a mortal he will someday outlive.

However, he found you hard to resist.

Neither Venti nor Barbatos can hope to deny your profoundly unconditional love. What kind of god could reject such a heartfelt offering?

Despite your penchant for playing any available instrument, you preferred not to take center stage. In fact, your hidden knack for taming avian creatures is how you earn a daily living. Every songbird in the City of Freedom knows your tunes and can chirp them on command. This is due to your Anemo Vision, which has a unique ability that enables you to interact with the birds by means of frequency. Depending on how you control the vibrations in the breeze, they will follow like a choir does with a maestro.

You once dedicated a performance to Barbatos and the Four Winds. On that day, Venti heard his wisp brethren amongst the thousand winds croon at you in delight. He witnessed the silhouette of Vennessa’s falcon form hovering above you appraisingly, and a resounding roar can also be heard from Dvalin in his proclaimed lair. There were even the echoing howls of Andrius and his pack in Wolvendom.

This leads him to discover that your true talent lies in writing music. He had seen and read your musical compositions, grinning at every single one. With your permission, he even played a few in your home as payment for your gracious hospitality.

“You can negotiate with bards for this, you know.” He proposed, “I’m no businessman; but even I know letting other musicians play this will earn you a hefty sum of mora.”

You smiled sadly, “N-Nobody…w-would acknowledge music…composed by a deaf girl.” You confessed.

Venti turned solemn as he gazed at you. Although intimidating in its rarity, you are not perturbed by this abrupt change of mood. Your darling bard wears a mask on a daily basis that blurs truth and deceit.

You have become acquainted with them all.

He hummed playfully, “Now that just won’t do.”

You tilt your head confusedly, blinking in surprise when he suddenly takes hold of your hands.

“Ehe~!” He giggled, “Let me play…all of your music, [Name]. In fact, I’ll write…a lyrical ballad…for each of them. We’ll be the best duo…in Mondstadt!”

He had to slow down his speech a bit since he could not use his hands to help you keep up.

Thus, a new routine began for you two.

Venti kept his word. For the next few months, he only sang of the tunes you composed. A few of his regular listeners heard the slightest change in his playstyle. A part of him wished to smile bitterly as other bards and occasional playwrights praised his talent. He pettily made sure to charge thrice from them when he was requested for encores. These fools had rejected you just because of your disability yet they literally sing praises when he played your creations. Any artist worth their salt should have been able to see your potential at a glance.

Nevertheless, he ensured to always come home to you with bags full of mora whenever he plays your music in particular. You deserve nothing less than that, and he refuses to settle for anything else.

Regardless of this success, Venti recognized the melancholy in your eyes. You used to smile radiantly every time you watched him play. Your ears cannot hear the notes but you can feel the vibrations in the air. Your beguiling eyes relished the perfection of just watching Venti play to his heart’s content.

However, he was not blind to your inner turmoil and thus sought to relieve it.

“What’s wrong, Windblume?” He asked.

You hesitate, looking down at your feet. Gently, he props a finger under your chin to raise your head. A tender smile of encouragement implored you to speak your thoughts freely.

“I’m…frustrated.” You replied.

He says nothing but his smile does falter to a glaze of concern, waiting patiently to let you finish.

“I feel…so happy and grateful…when you play my songs.” You confided, “It’s finally being heard…and not just through the songbirds. People are now listening…to how it is supposed to be heard, and how I envisioned it to be played.”

Tears gather in your lovely eyes, overflowing with emotions too much for your heart. Your darling bard does not waver. He raises a hand to cup your cheek in his palm while his fingertips swept your sorrows.

“I want to…” you sobbed, “I want to hear you too!”

Venti held you protectively close, wishing more than anything else to shield you from this wild tempest of emotions. Alas, he was more than aware of the truth that the loveliest of rainbows can only come after the harshest storm. These are the feelings that must have festered for so long within you. People who can hear cruelly turn deaf to the ones whose worlds have been rendered silent. It was as if they do not deserve a voice if they knew not how it sounds. The thought infuriates the bard, reminding him of your beautiful songs discarded as nothing more than the passing chirps of songbirds.

He used his talents to let your ballads be heard.

Perhaps, he can use a different set of talents to let you hear his own?

You gripped onto Venti as if he was your lifeline, a part of you crumbling in sheer relief. He has always encouraged you to never be ashamed of what and how you feel. Whether it be deemed good or bad, all of it belonged to you. They make you human, the reason why he adores you above all. His gentle hand carded through your hair, skillful as when he plucks and strums the strings of Der Frühling. Pulling away slightly, his lips rested upon your temple and then your forehead. They stray towards your cheeks, a taste of salt from your tears.

Lastly, they hover above your own lips—centimeters apart, just a breath before they touch.

Teal eyes glow a shimmering green, both of you becoming enraptured by each other.

Venti needed you to say no more.

He takes you in his arms and spreads his wings. He delivers you to Windrise and its special tree, trusting him so wholly that you did not question him. Instead, you melted in his arms and enjoyed the warm breeze that wrapped around you like a blanket.

Once he sits you down beneath the tree, Venti sits in front of you to place one of your hands right above his heart. It beats steadily yet faintly, present yet not quite—like the wind he controls. He summons Der Frühling and smiles lovingly at you. The crystalflies illuminate his youthful features, providing a mystical glow that enthralls his dearest muse.

“Eyes on me, meine liebe.” He mouths.

Closing his eyes, he begins his private performance.

You frown, wondering what he means to prove with this. Still, you obliged his wishes and kept your eyes solely on him. Your hand remained where he placed it, right over the constant beating of his heart.

Then, you finally noticed the gathering streams of energy around yourself and your lover.

Your Anemo Vision began to glow alongside Venti’s iconic braids. The winds hummed together with him, united under his influence. It is an enchanting image, dazzling you into stunned admiration.

Then, you finally hear him—vocalizing the precious melody you dedicated to him alone. He sang of his past, his present, and his future which are now all intertwined by the whispers of you.

/Gales of song, please stay by my side/

He opens his eyes and releases his lyre. It plays as it floats, and you are mesmerized by how you can hear it all. By power of anemo, he merges your heart with his while enabling your psalm to be immortalized amongst the winds. He reaches up a hand to keep yours on his chest while its pair entangles with the other. His forehead leans on yours, gaze softening as you wept in bliss.

White feathers rained down on the landscape of green and blue. Floating lights illuminated the dark, be they stars or crystalflies. The Statue of the Seven sung in accompaniment to the intimate confessions of Barbatos—to you and for you.

/Winds of love, breathe into my life/

You can hear him so clearly—his regrets, his woes, his dreams, and his love. You hear it all through the song you composed at the thought of him, which he plays at the memory of you.

A fated parting shall occur someday, but he will love no other the way he loves you.

Therefore, with a passionate kiss, he makes you a promise—

“Come what may, you are the melody my heart will always sing.”

DAINSLEIF perseveres as a maverick shaped by his resolutions and driven by conviction. After enduring five centuries, he has earned a fair few titles as his new names. However, these remnants can never piece together his whole existence. As the Twilight Sword, there is no longer a Khaenri'ah to consider as his homeland to protect. As the Bough Keeper, there is no true grace to his purpose while burdened by a curse that shall someday rob him of his own mind and soul. In the eyes of Celestia, he is no more than a sinner doomed to a fate which can be argued as worse than death. As for the rest of the world, he is no more than a listless wanderer whom holds an obsession with stopping a disgrace known as the Abyss Order.

To honor those he had failed in his homeland, he can only move forward in the best way he knew—even if it is against those he had formerly served. Souls of the condemned hold no genuine hope of ascending to Celestia, for they amount to nothing more than heretics that do not worship any god. Therefore, for those who dare to remember, erosion will befall upon them as a final kiss of damnation. Before that day comes for him, this foolish score must be settled so he can meet his demise without regrets.

There is no genuine reward at the end of this tedious and lonesome quest. He is aware.

Nonetheless, the accursed immortal human refuses to falter under the taunt of judgment. If damnation is what shall meet him at the end of this quest, then he shall do it on his own terms. For if he must also end without his resolve, then there will truly be nothing left of him and Khaenri'ah.

There had been instances aplenty wherein the divine is likened to the flowers blossoming across Teyvat; and as a lonesome wanderer, he has grown accustomed to these tragic folklores.

The God of Dust named Guizhong left behind a quiet legacy amongst the glaze lilies. Songs which keep them abloom become tributes to her name.

The Goddess of Flowers known as Nabu Malikata had left her remnants within the padisarahs. Even if not as they were anymore, they serve as a memoir.

Godless they may have been, the glorious nation of Khaenri'ah also held pride over a particular flower—the Inteyvat. Alas, nobody but the former Twilight Sword retains the awareness to recall whom they represent the most.

“My memory has all but faded completely,” a voice murmurs piously, “but I will always remember how much she too loved these flowers.”

Dainsleif spoke not of Lumine here, although she does remind him of the one he reminisces. He dares say travelling with her had been the closest to home, a feeling of warm comfort. However, it never was the same exact happiness he sought in another—a mere ghost in his past. The lost historical relics in Sumeru speak of her as the last Eclipse Princess, whom was hailed as the Heretic Saintess. However, to him, she was the woman he dearly cherishes to this day…

…and the one he laments most for failing to protect in the bout of cataclysmic calamity.

Indeed, the Bough Keeper realizes; this accursed immortality is a fitting punishment for what Celestia deems a sinner. For he can forsake everything, but anything he has left of her will vividly linger. The doomsday of his own reckoning shall be when that too is ripped away from him.

Until then, he will dream of her. Until then, he will foolishly hope for the day they meet again.

Then, like a prayer to a nonexistent god, answers came in the ethereal form of you.

You met Dainsleif on a stormy night. In fact, he just found your cabin in the woods to seek a temporary shelter—injured and knocked unconscious. He was already half-delirious from a high fever, and it did not take a genius to know the man had a rough week. It is not out of kindness that you nursed him back to health, but due to a selfish motive to figure him out.

“Who are you?” You mumbled.

It seems he was not entirely out of it since he still managed to respond clearly.

“Dain…sleif…”

As soon as he muttered back, he eventually fell limp in your arms. For those brief seconds, there was a swelling ache upon your chest—nostalgia. A chilling tingle ran through your spine, like the touch of an invasive ghost on your skin—melancholy. Then, it spreads as smoldering heat to your veins as if to ignite your bloodstream—passion.

“Dainsleif, huh?”

The name felt like velvet on your tongue. His clothes and features were all too familiar to you—a fellow kinsman from Khaenri'ah. However, your eidetic memory never once brought you to a conclusion about this man’s identity. Regardless, your body reacts as if begging for your mind to catch up in recognition.

Even as you tended to him, nothing clicked.

“Your Highness…”

His voice weakly called, raspy and strained as if to choke it out. Your star-shaped pupils dilate as they meet his own hazy glare. His hand was reaching out to you, looking yet not truly seeing.

Alas, you made no move to truly stop him and remained awkwardly staring back.

“You’re dreaming, Sir Dainsleif.”

As if hearing his name from you brought comfort, he settles down again. His eyes start to close but now his hand found yours resting by his bedside. You recoiled yet his grip was oddly firm for a deeply ill patient. Perhaps, you can allow this until he gets some real rest.

When he recovered, Dainsleif vanished as abruptly as he barged into your life.

The next time you met again, it was your turn to be the one in need.

Dainsleif finds you in a clearing of soot and frost, holding a young man desperately. It was as if a clash of fire and ice had occurred under the rain. You look up to him, stars in your eyes shimmering with panic and sorrow. Without a word, he aids you by carrying the unconscious male and leading you back to the cabin. You made no reaction other than grasping onto his cloak tightly, like a lost child.

Despite not wishing to overstay his welcome, the Bough Keeper chose to stay for the night. You were unresponsive to him, as if your mind had shut down completely. A vague memory of a person so similar to you made Dainsleif familiar to the situation. Thus, the task of healing your patient fell to him until you could regain your composure.

“Please be well, Kaeya.” You murmured.

Dainsleif did not pry about your business, giving you the same respect you had done for his privacy. It did, however, astonish him when you took hold of his wrist and dragged him outside with you the next day.

The man named Kaeya stirred awake.

Befuddled, the former Twilight Sword kept silent as he watched from afar with you. Kaeya ate the warm meal you prepared on the table, and mixed emotions flickered in his eyes as he did. His head turned to observe everything in the cabin, searching almost as desperately as you appeared last night. Numerous dreamcatchers and embroideries decorate the walls in a contradictingly systematic manner. The more he analyzed, the more he remembered his childhood—as if your crafts gave him pieces of long forgotten memories. Then, he slowly stood up and made his way to a periwinkle dreamcatcher designed with a pavo ocellus constellation.

A single silver-blue eye gazed out the window, nearly catching your own gaze—

—but you ducked down behind the huge boulders and pulled Dainsleif with you to hide.

Kaeya got his things back and left a small note of gratitude for your care. Wordlessly, he left the cabin with the dreamcatcher now hanging on his belt—right beside his Cryo Vision. He looked back over his shoulder only once to give a bittersweet smile.

“Farewell, sis.” He whispered.

A humming zephyr delivered his message, and then he went back to Mondstadt.

Dainsleif sat down beside you for an entire hour, a mix of pity and empathy. When clarity returned to your eyes, he rose to take his leave. Once again, he was halted on his tracks by your hand grabbing onto his own gloved one.

“Hey,” you said, “do you mind if I go with you?”

Against his better judgment, the cursed immortal agreed after a minute of contemplation.

This newfound journey together has a very tedious beginning, mostly attributed to you. Everything was strange and nothing felt safe, which was expected because you both never stayed in one place. You, whom sought solace in consistency, were always forced to adapt to something new. Sleeping became a chore because you felt every small pebble and thin blade of grass pressing against you. It is by the mere thoughtfulness of your companion that you got a semblance of rest. Dainsleif always covered you in his cape and was willing to hold you soothingly, as if he knows just how to calm you down. There has been moments wherein you had tantrums, and some meltdowns that delayed some plans. Other days, you shut down completely and only wake back up to reality after a day or two.

Dainsleif was shockingly very patient with you, never berating and ready to soothe whenever you are in distress. He never once pushed you to go back. Only once, he offered to take you somewhere to settle after a very bad episode.

“No, I can’t!” You exclaimed, “I have to keep moving. I have to…keep going. Make sure…nobody finds me.”

It was unspoken that you were specifically running away from the City of Freedom, all for avoiding your your younger brother. There is a destiny that kept you both apart even when you mutually wish to be reunited. As children of Khaenri'ah, the former knight can take a guess what that sort of fate presents.

Since then, your travel companion did not question your decision anymore.

Without prompting, Dainsleif seemed used to your symptoms. It was almost eerie how he knew exactly what to say and do in every situation that involved your condition. He makes effort to prepare the same meals that you wish to have every day, and only light fruit snacks at night because you get very restless otherwise. At times he wanted to keep going, he stops himself to make camp for you first on the same evening hour before scouting ahead. He only allows himself to be gone for exactly 45 minutes, which was your limit to being alone whenever you both decide to camp out rather than checking into an inn or hotel. Whenever a wave of unease hits, he keeps a bag of materials that either lets you weave dreamcatchers or tinker an antique you scavenged in the ruins you passed. Every time your mind begins to close off, he sits down with you and holds your hands to meditate. When you need space, he keeps his distance; and when you need companionship, he keeps you close.

“How?” You ask.

Dainsleif raises a brow as he looks down at you. It was in the middle of Lantern Rite as you both watch the festivities from a nearby hill. After indulging in a few stalls, you calmed by playing with his fingers as your head rested on his lap. He knows the meaning to your one-worded inquiry, and he wonders how to answer you truthfully.

“I knew someone similar to you.” He said.

You sat up before blankly staring into his eyes, stars meeting stars. Tilting your head, a flash of curiosity brought light to your emotionless gaze.

“The princess…?” You asked.

The Bough Keeper blinked in surprise.

“You dreamed of her a lot when we first met.”

Your statement made him look away bashfully, a bit embarrassed to be reminded.

“Was she important to you?” You asked.

At this, he looks at you in the eyes. His star-shaped pupils practically gleam with an emotion you could not read—or perhaps, could not comprehend.

“She is my dearest one.” He declared.

Normal people probably would have felt jealous at that confession. He even used a present tense to show that his feelings have not wavered.

You and Dainsleif never gave a label to this peculiar relationship, but you hold a mutual understanding that it had grown to more than just friends. It was a development nurtured by meaningful exchanges and secretive affections. The sentiments are far from platonic or familial, that much is sure.

That night, when you released a lantern, you made a fleeting wish—

—not to the gods, but to the princess.

“Please look after Dainsleif.”

Meanwhile, the Twilight Sword fondly gazes upon your form. The image of your past self overlaps with the present. He recalls the ever sleepless nights of guarding you in the tower. Starlight showered upon your figure leaning by the windowframe. Delicate hands reach out to set free artificial crystalflies that glow as wisps of moonlight. A breath of laughter is echoed in the lonely room, and then he is blessed by a smile more divine than Celestia.

The memory flickers as the silver starlights are replaced by golden lanterns, and your humble self stood in place of the estranged saintess—

—but that smile remains.

Morning welcomed Dainsleif with the strange sight of you looming over him. With practiced ease, he resumes calm as he let you do as you please like it was nothing unusual. He knows of your quirks just as you are aware of his boundaries. There is mutual trust of consent that tells which actions would be acceptable anytime. He did gulp a little nervously as his drowsy eyes analyzed you. His hands twitched but he willed them to stay in place despite his inner yearning.

Disheveled, you were straddling him while still in your nightgown. Your hair was messily draped over your shoulders, creating a curtain around the blond man beneath you. A glazed veil engulfs your eyes like a dreamy countenance of a faraway reverie.

“Dain…”

“What is it, [Name]?”

“I had a dream last night.”

“A dream, you say?”

You nod, leaning down almost conspirationally yet the expression on your face remains unreadable. A gasp hitched in his throat as your lips strayed to his ear, whispering shakily—

“I remember, Dain.”

Realization struck him.

Dainsleif switches positions with you yet he receives no protest. His ungloved hands cup your face in order to meet your eyes with his own beseeching pair. You see his visage, unmasked and vulnerable, that longingly wish for your approval.

You nodded.

Dainsleif claims your lips in ardent greed, and you responded in eager devotion.

Intertwined, redamancy is bliss for the reunited knight and his only princess—

“Your heart is the only other half that can ever complete mine.”

[coolstuffiseverywhere]

Revolutionary Girl Utena - S1 E5 "The Sunlit Garden - Finale"

I'm sure if anyone does see this after the previous posts they're annoyed by the wait times. I'm just going to be happy with it being infrequent for now. Still a bit unsure on formatting. If you want to look at the whole thing, everything should be under a tag for "RGU Liveblog"

So, Juri and Miki are fencing before she teases him about his feelings for Anthy and compliments him for his victory, which she attributes to his happiness from his crush. It's then followed by this line, which so far seems to mean that his feelings aren't enough to "win"(ownership, not love, but with his crush being for Anthy and her being The Rose Bride it can only really be ownership at the moment) with his minimal social power and masculinity. It probably makes more sense in retrospect, but that's my read so far.

It seems like Miki more wants the same close connection he had with his sister, a bond over making something, then Anthy or romance. Which I think is similar to what I said last time too. His sister stopped playing because of being forced to play alone with stage fright, but I wonder how close they were after.

I mean, better late then never, but notice that it's "Anthy Himemiya" and not "someone." He's doing this because of a crush, not out of having an issue with the system. Still, at least an ounce of sanity is around here.

A revolution for the world via the smashing of it's shell, which somehow revolves around basically patriarchy+(dueling addition). How is it revolutionary? I guess making things worse is still a revolution.

Oh, yay, I get an answer to my earlier question! They clearly don't get on well, and that seems to be more Miki's fault then her's.

Ah, well, interesting on how his first words are comparing Miki to his sister(who I'd really like the name for considering the points I'm about to make). With the clear implications of this scene, it's

Setting her up as an extension of Miki in this conversation

He clearly did this to get back at Miki for his earlier suggestion

He's using the victimization of Miki's sister(which, sure we barely know her, but she's decidely younger then Touga since she's twins with Miki) via patriarchy as a weapon towards Miki. The same goes for his threat towards Anthy shortly after this. It's objectification. Making oppression a power struggle between oppressor and benefactor(someone who benefits from the oppression but isn't actively aiding it, although Miki was/is actively aiding it as a student council member).

Touga also highlights that Miki wants to have Anthy rather then to be with Anthy, and make her do what he wants. Miki later refuses to 'lose' Anthy, once again ignoring her agency(which, she is too, but unlike Utena he doesn't even ask). Basically, all the men suck.

Yeah, this kinda solidifies my read so far that it's all about ownership rather then love. Miki barely even wants Anthy, just what she represents to him. Although I feel like this might be about another character too, feels like foreshadowing to me.

And his illusion of what Anthy wants is shattered.

Oh, huh, Miki's sister isn't even good at the piano. So yeah, it's about the connection, maybe even more the brief emotion then the bond, rather then anything specific.

That's all for now!

[merao-mariposa]

In this ship I only know two things (and one is you)

Alternative title: A typical meeting with the space headquarters, me and my platonic-alien husband

This au is not mine, it is from: @rainbowchaox (In the original post said tag to give credit. So I hope you don't mind for tagging u!)

Fair warning; this is long, sorry for any mistakes this is not my first language

(...)

The computer made a soft noise when it turned on, there were about 20 minutes left before the meeting where multiple terrestrial researchers would update about the findings of the planets in one same sector.

These meetings were annual and generally occupied one field researcher per planet.

This year Missa was one of these, but not the only one.

That helped relax the pressure on his shoulders. Running a hand delicately through his hair Missa was aware of two things.

One; He hadn't cut his hair since the last time he slept in the habitable building.

And two; His left arm was still not fully healed since his last exploration accident.

It had been a simple thing, his boat had collided with a submerged mineral formation which caused him to hit the railing and fall into the water. Fortunately, certain leaves cut from the planet had quite appropriate properties to close some minimal capillaries through stimulating them.

Kissing it better also worked (Missa was joking, he swears he did)

The urgent coos sounded worried to which Missa said he only choked a little, almost nothing, but I didn't seem to calm Phil down much. Now under his lab coat was the makeshift bandage surrounding his left bicep.

Missa's eyes lingered on one of the computer's loading screens, two dots for eyes, one for nose, a taut line creating a happy face. It was the logo of the Galactic Federation, a regulatory entity that, in the midst of so many companies that sought to register the outer galaxies, sought to delimit what they could and could not do.

His company (Quesadilla Space Research Center) was not an exception, so he knew they would have at least one Federation agent.

Missa was not afraid of speaking in public, but the idea of facing a federal agent struck him because they had a terrible reputation due to accusations of being “a tyrannical force.”

He waited a few minutes, settling uncomfortably in his chair, which had been too long since they had sat in it, when the opposite camera turned on and the red light on his holographic screen appeared.

For the first time in 10 Earthling months, another voice that was not prerecorded or the mellifluous tone of Missa, did resonated particularly loudly in the compact building.

-“Hello Misaaa how are you??”

-“Quackity? Que?!"

-“Hello researcher Sinfonia”

ElQ says just after his brother's effusive entrance and Missa quickly passed his eyes between the two identical faces that greeted him on the screen.

The twins had basically grown up in the Quesadilla facility. Quackity was one of Missa's mission supervisors while ElQ worked as an administrator for the department where Missa worked.

In simpler words he was in front of two of his bosses right now and he was stunned to see them, which led Quackity to a fit of laughter.

-“What are you laughing at, pendejo?!” Missa shouted

-“Your face- your face looks like one of those fucking catfish from planet M213 like that”

The most talkative twin, proceeded to do an imitation with his mouth as open as possible and Missa saw his opportunity.

-“This is how your face looks like whe you see Luzu!”

The comment earned a chuckle from ElQ so Missa considered it a victory regardless of how Quackity made a comically offended gasp before launching into insults.

-“Researcher Sinfonia”

Like someone interrupting two children fighting, Missa quickly moved away from the monitor because when the screams started he had leaned over the writing panel for more impact.

-"Yes sir?"

-“I assume you know why contact was initiated from the crew on Earth before the update meeting, right?”

-“…wasn't it because you guys missed me rigth?”

-"What?"

-"El para que cosa de que?"

-“... Ok. I guess you don't know, as this will be your first meeting at this level, we thought it would be appropriate to give you some warnings regarding the meeting participants."

Missa never considered himself the smartest of the investigaion crew at all, but he wasn't stupid (he was a research scientist for God's sake) he knew what they meant.

-"The Quesadilla station" ElQ proceeded. "Is an Earth station, which is well know, but it also has agreements, living assets and work centers even outside the Milky Way that need to be regulated and monitored by an external entity that avoids conflicts of interest".

Quackity interrupted his brother's speech like someone who already knows it too well

-"In short, there will be outgoing beings of other species in the same position as you and there will be person, a federal, supervising the meeting."

He soured a little at the name and ElQ tensed as if he were punched by that name.

-“But the most important”

-“You must obey Cucurucho” / “Be careful with Cucurucho”

The twins looked at each other in surprise, again in perfect coordination. It was always intimidating to see the twins talking or moving at the same time, a feeling of inherent discomfort.

And speaking of discomfort and intimidation, when the meeting had finally started Missa realized that his chair was stinging his back, but it was too late to stop as the supervisor sent by the Federation seemed to pin him to his chair with just their blank stare lacking off all emotion.

The Quackitys stood one on each side and stared absently at the camera as if they weren't happy to give up their seat to… whatever the feds were.

If Missa were more paranoid he would think that the subject with features of both humanoid and bear looked like a dictator of the kind that space had not seen since wilder times. But that was exaggerated.

No?

As it were, the default screen was the one that connected with the crew at home and it changed whoever was presenting their findings in the habitable areas of the sector to be explored.

Planets and moons above all, but of course Etoiles, a kind of organic being similar to a pickle, had to explore near a possible black hole.

The photos were hilarious because he could be seen in the full suit making the human peace sign.

That made him laugh the most (internally, of course he did not dare to laugh out loud with the presence of the federal officer there). One by one the researchers went by to present their findings and Missa noticed that the majority were indeed human with some hybridized.

Until finally it was the turn of the planet Vita Vitaris, which was more or less 150,000,000 km away from the nearest sun, but it was known for sure that those distance was more between this and other planets. A a lonely planet.

When Missa began to speak, he immediately realized that he was doing well, he soon shared the screen and turned off his microphone, letting the computer read the results (which took a huge weight off his shoulders because he now knew without a doubt that the transmission to earth would only see his results and not him)

Missa, taking advantage of the data count made by the robotic voice, let out a deep yawn, he couldn't sleep in a seat as uncomfortable as that, but he was so tired, and he should check the bruise, and his brain which was still excited by the new information also had too much to process.

The cloud of sleep above him suddenly vanished as he heard a weird noise.

It sounded like a sharp thump, something falling, but nothing should fall because everything was controlled by machines, human error hardly existed. Missa's eyes were fixed in the darkness searching and regretting for not requesting to turn on the lights as it got dark, Missa shifted uncomfortably, suddenly he felt observed, he gave a sideways glance at the holographic camera but but was still off, his body keep itching and the robotic voice continued citing possible PH compatible with some form that now he could not care less about.

Like a prey about to be hunted by a predator, the muscles under his lab coat prepare to run, his conscious brain sought to give himself security despite just tripping over himself; There is no way that something could have gotten in, it was impossible for something to cross the defenses of the compact laboratory without activating an alarm so, logically, it was an i-internal failure No, no, there is not a damm way for the station to fail because if it did… he was dead, his entire livelihood was there and clearly the only way to get home was that, believing that the station had failed was as improbable as the idea that something had entered.

And both ideas were catastrophic.

Missa's less rational brain was already in the catastrophes that awaited him, an unknown evil making its way through the darkness to finish him off, angry at having a stranger in his ecosystem would launch itself and he would be finished, eventually (in a hundred of years) nature would reclaim the mobile station, swallowing every trace left behind of its existence..

The voice continued in the background but Missa had already partially stopped listening, with his gaze fixed on the darkness he realized that perhaps he did not want to be the end of his bloodline so he slowly directed his hand to his weapon. According to the regulations it did little more than stun small fauna in case they were too violent to take the samples normally.

He was dimly aware that he wouldn't be heard or seen until the results were finished being dictated, the plan was; sudden movement = electrocute, buy time and ask for help.

He swore he heard something low and shallow under the synthetic voice and his grip on the shock weapon tightened.

Slowly, very slowly in the darkness a small figure with… stripes?appeared.

Missa let out a sharp sigh

“P…Philza!” The sapient Vitaris's face lit up at the pure relief that could be heard in his human's voice and he made a trill in greeting.

Missa's shoulders basically slumped, his heart still pounding but it would only take a moment to calm down now that he knew Phil was there and, wait, why was he there?

-"Philza…? How did you get in querido?"

Missa looked back at the holpographic screen, already showing more than half of his arduous findings, all transmitted with a voice so dead and robotic that he was almost disappointing to see his effort transmitted like this.

Buzzing Philza pointed to where the glass tunnel that connected both buildings was, but that didn't make sense, the glass is unbreakable and if it had broken the alarms would have go on.

-"But… like inside the building?" Missa turned his head like a confused dog and Philza found that adorable.

Buzzing even louder Philza approached to his seat, which was like a kind of semicircle embedded on the floor in front of the holographic monitor and Missa finally saw Philza, the Vitaris hermit who had saved him countless times on that remote planet, the most fascinating being to study and greatest source of happiness in the jungle that were for planet was wrapped in Missa´s favorite blanket with his straw hair disheveled and his semi-drooping antennae had an appearance that made Missa melt.

How could someone in a blanket look so good? he still moved as only a predator with years of hunting behind him could do, the fine lines in the corners of his eyes revealed his good character despite everything and his eyes; they trapped him like a black hole to an unfortunate ship.

Crossing over the back of the seat he crouched next to Missa's seated body. His urgent eyes went to his left arm as if he wanted to ask something.

-"What's the matter? Are you worry Phil?"

Philza made a soft trill and in one quick movement covered Missa's body with the same blanket that he uses

Wrapped in an unexpected hug, Missa's hands moved instinctively to cup Phil's back, careful not to touch his wings. A while ago he would have been afraid to put his hands on other people, but after several months of investigation and bonding time the research scientist had concluded that the Wise Vitaris was a little touch-starved.

And after almost 10 months away from all types of non-virtual interaction he could also want some attention. Months of time together had brought them closer than Missa had ever allowed himself to be brought closer to others. Was it because there was no one else around? Or perhaps the strongest bond they had was one too strong that crossed planets?

With Phil practically purring through his wings Missa decided that for now the answer didn't matter, he knew that Phil was very bothered by contact with his antennae but part of his body was more insensitive so he lowered his hands to Phils hips and maneuvered Philza in a more comfortable position than squatting next to him.

The blonde-haired Vitaris made a series of clicks that sounded satisfied at Missa's initiative, quickly settling his head under the human's chin and his hands gripping his human shoulders in a lazy touch, his throat vibrating with happy gurgles. Missa felt… he didn't know how he felt, he literally put a being from another planet in his lap while he discussed a meeting with other researchers light years away from his planet Earth.

He would laugh under other circumstances but the lump in his throat felt dry and heavy, like one of those roots near Phil's tree hut that maybe he shouldn't have eaten.

Uncanny was a word to describe how he felt when Philza raised his head and his eyes slowly closed like cats would around Missa (only if, you know, if the cats blinked horizontally and not vertically)

Missa's breath escaped from his throat..

Bathed in blue light from the hologram the black haired man realized how much Philza didn't belong there, he belonged where everything was much bigger than him and bigger than Missa. He was surrounded by that huge garden that was his own world while Missa was surrounded by some artificial light, he also noticed how it was reflected in Philza's irregular eyes and suddenly he was slapped with two things at once.

One; Philza didn't belong with him, he was such a small thing compared to Philza and Philza didn't deserve to carry Misssas feelings when they couldn't belong together.

And Two; Philza looked beautiful, out of place, yes, but always welcome in Missa's arms, Missa's cheeks warmed by a wave of affection that made him want to kiss this alien-bug-man so bad that makes Missa looks stupid.

Philza made a high-pitched trill that caught his attention, directing his gaze to some photos of the planet's fauna. He had several photos of Philza himself but did not include them in the presentation, saving them on a separate USB memory.

It felt too… intimate for him to tell them about Philza, and regular reports with the crew on Earth confirmed that as a researcher he had established communication with the dominant species of the planet Vita, just not to what extent yet.

Missa recognizes those photos as the ones at the end of his presentation, the most recent data is read by the computer as background noise and Phil looks particularly less impressed than the other times he's been in there.

A deep sigh that he didn't know was holding came out softly from him, more pathetic than he thought as he realized how Philza did burst into the station.

(…)

He didn't, Missa let him in after his accident, they were closer to his station than Phils treehouse and even though he didn't like to leave his terrotory for too long, Phil's instincts were closed at the mere thought of his mate taking care for his own wound all alone.

It had hurt his pride that the human he was courting had gotten hurt with him present so he had managed to get the human to share not only his hiding place but to make a space for him and his eggs in his very own nest. Which in no way struck Philza's brain with the idea of how the human corresponded to his advances, nope, not at all.

Well…

maybe a little

That was a good sign! how close he was to being able to have the human as his partner, his efforts to prove to the black-haired man that he was the best option were giving results if he was easily accepted into his nest.

But you can imagine his surprise when he woke up in a half-made nest with his babies without his partner to court, the smell of the human was overwhelming and the space was limited. If it were up to him he would make a bigger nest that covered the entire room a nest worthy of his humand and children. A deep, disapproving vibration left his throat; He could do a better one and he will once they return to his territory.

He allowed himself to judge the materials of the human kind of nest, quickly coming to the conclusion that they were not good enough for his Missa, almost enough to sleep in but it did not allow him to snuggle or cuddle comfortably with his wings, much less with his flock, needed more space, fresher materials, safer structures, needed!-

His antennas moved suddenly, something boiling beneath his surface led him to stretch out on the small bed in the room, searching for his mate. He wasn't there, but the best next thing was his blanket, which smelled deeply like him. It was probably the softest of the few that Missa had laid out in case they wanted to rest (he put all the ones he had) its smell was overwhelming and almost calmed the serious discomfort caused by the idea of Missa sleeping in such an inappropriate nest. Overwhelmed by his delicious smell, he felt his brain become comfortably cloudy. He could keep that, just a little longer.

When he woke up again the blanket was no longer enough, call him greedy but he wanted more (that doesn't mean he was going to discard the blanket yet, had their smells mixed in) that's how he easily wandered around the room, the habitable building (which was not very big) seeing his husband's mark printed everywhere, he had good taste, he would not let him build the nest (because that was his duty when courting him) but perhaps he could help choose some materials.

"Violet. Tallulah likes purple. Decorate me violet, Use Liliacs? mate would like it. He likes purple, Lilac, Violet"

He rambled as he quickly passed the tunnel that connects the two buildings, habitable building to the laboratory. He had already been in the laboratory building, it was not his favorite place but missa was there so best building between the two.

Phil rushed to meet him, the audacity of this man! leave him alone in an empty nest where his children should be protected by them, Philza was ready to drag him if necessary, his wings vibrating behind him and accidentally hit something that he overlooked in the darkness, he stopped with the impact, noticing the fear in the human´s eyes so Phil did approached more slowly, as he would do with an injured animal that he wants to keep, a good decision because now he is comfortably on his lap, Philza would scold him later

His face illuminated by the blue light looked adorable but he had a frown ruining his expression

He vibrated, curious to find out what he disliked

(…)

Missa was caught by surprise when he felt Philza's warm breath on his neck, almost making him jump out of his seat. He could feel Phil´s throat vibrating in conjunction with his wings. He wondered if it had been a good idea to put the blue-eyed Vita on his lap afterwards.

It could be that he was going to open his mouth at any moment to eat him(and Missa found that he wasn't all that against that idea, after all there were worse ways to go, I mean-)

He realized that everything felt very quiet then, except for the wings vibrating and their the soft breathing all was silence for a second, before the Federal's voice broke the silence.

The holographic screen had gone from the results of his operations, to traversing what were months of work in what felt like seconds to give way again to the headquarters at home.

Cucurucho look weirder than usual, still expressionless as a corpse, but had their brooding air gotten worse?? like something wasn't in place, to make matters worse he actually seemed to be able to see Missa in the eyes, through his eyes, into his brain, and through his brain into him, he tensed and swore that Phil's buzz grew louder, suddenly the fed seemed to focus only in him and suddenly he move-

"...Hahaha"

No mames-

"Researcher 564, your holographic camera and microphone are still off" Reported the cold, robotic voice that sounded frighteningly similar to the canned voice of his computer.

Missa was startled by his voice, his hand automatically moving to carry out the order when suddenly a growl interrupted his movement.

Philza was bristling like a cat, his face turned to face the Cucurucho hologram eyes fixed on it, his hand on Missa's shoulders went from a soft and light touch to a vicious grip, his wings seemed to spread and twitch and the muscles in his back were tense.

Missa struggled when Phil's claws tried to dig into his shoulders.

"Philza, cariño, stop" The wise vitaris growled louder like a cat looking to intimidate.

-"Please s-stop- can you? wait a second, just, wait-“

Pressed by the surveillance of the hologram and the fear that Earth headquarters would activate the cameras themselves, Missa wrapped his arm around Phil's wings, making them recoil vaguely in his grip before melting in his hands.

His other arm flew towards the microphone ready to turn it on when he fixed his eyes on Phil's absorbing orbs, a deep blue that swallowed all the light as if only night existed there, they reflected the light of the room as if it had a moon inside and against them, Missa's constricted pupils floated in a miniature canvas of rich, enchanting purple that burned fervently like only the sun.

-“Please” the scientist whispered and finally the sun won that battle.

-“Y-Yes, I'm really sorry, the rains seem to have, eh, damaged something inside the camera, I already cut to get to the button but it seems that the humidity reached too deep, I can't turn it on.”

-“Unacceptable”

-“In fact, it is reversible damage” a voice from the call, a researcher at Destoier planet, intervened. Presumably a human with a white tuft.

- “It will take a while but it is repairable”

Missa gave a grateful look at the hologram that took the form of that researcher even though he knew they couldn't see him. Cucurucho, stopped, as if they were weighing what the researcher had said

Their heavy gaze returned to Missa but its time but this time they didn't say anything.

Missa's microphone automatically closed to make way for the next researcher and his data and finally the black-haired man felt like he could breathe again.

Slowly Phil's buzzing subsided until it gave way to its normal volume, just a little fast and urgent, if Missa had managed to relax his shoulders after the tense exchange they now tensed again when the Vitaris buried his face in the juncture between neck and shoulder of the man with the amethyst eyes.

-“Phi-Philza?! What are you-?"

Was- was he rubbing? A series of muffled clicks collided with his neck, "Threat Mate. Keep Away From Flock, Protect. No-Live. So Strange"

Missa hesitantly placed a hand on his blonde head, gently stroking his hair. Subtle nothings left his lips, seeking to reassure Phil. Unfortunately, he still did not understand the language in Vitaris, which was especially frustrating at that moment.

They stayed there in each other's arms, as the bright blue holograms mutated in shape according to the results of other operations, other false voices mechanically read the investigations in the background, as time progressed Missa thought about how the meeting fell on deaf ears for him because he couldn't find himself to be minimally interested.

A planet passed, then another, and another, he could almost believe that the holograms looked beautiful, another planet and Missa gasped deeply.

He woke up, blinking slowly with a vertigo that he only felt when he was 9 and he teleported from the couch to the bed while he slept (the haters would say it was his parents) suddenly aware of two other things.

One: he was in his bed .

And two: he had not slept in his bed.

Revealing himself from the blanket, he noticed that buried in a kind of circle of blankets and pillows there were two eggs, ahh. Chayanne and Tallulah Missa would never forget that, they could move and semi-communicate like their father but the little Vitaris (presumably) remained inside the shell until they had completely finished their development, they had a tendency to sleep a lot until that moment (mainly Chayanne) and they still depended on their caregiver (Philza) for food and protection.

Still some sleepy, Missa placed a hand delicately on tallulah¨s shell, warming easily under his hand as if the little girl inside could tell he was there and respond to the touch, an aww died in his throat when he noticed that his left arm wouldn't move.

I mean, he could but he would have to take down an adult Vitaris for that. Phil was curled up on his left side while the children (his children?) rested on the right of him, the heat quickly hitting his cheeks as he noticed how close they were and that they were sharing beds? Wasn't that very intimate for the Vitaris kind? with their eggs there??

In front of the children?

Phil had one arm around Missa's waist, his wings pressed uncomfortably against his back in an attempt to keep them from hanging, and his other arm. Oh, it was on the bruise, which was no longer a bruise because it had healed, the bandage was missing and in its place was Phil's calloused, warm hand.

Missa looked at the hand on him, then at the Vitaris's sleeping face, then at the arm around his waist, and finally at the two eggs resting on his bed. It was fine, feel nice. Feel so nice and and diffused inside him. Missa guessed one last thing; That he could let himself sleep, just a little. He probably hallucinated but he felt a kiss on his hair before falling into a comfortable, surrounded and safe sleep.

//I finished, I finally finished this one, it could have been better, much better but I really wanted to publish it for the death duo/pissa anniversary. Thanks so much for reading love u goys :,)

[karahofthedawn]

You Owe Us One (part 8) - The Room of Requirement

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Hi all! I believe this will be the last of the series, as I stated in my previous post. I may still write some Fred and George stuff, but not exactly in this format.

Thank you all who have read, liked and reblogged my stuff. It's been a huge encouragement for me and I'm so glad I decided to post on here.

Anyways.. you wanted kink - you got it! Enjoy.

Synopsis: Fred and George have been storming up a plan for Y/N and it's finally ready. They take you to the Room of Requirement where a surprise awaits.

Words: 4.6k

Contains: lots of detailed sex. Anal, vaginal, oral. Some bondage, wax play, edging, collars and lots of praise.

The candle light from the Great Hall flickers in the hallway that you are sneaking off in. The aroma of the delicious dinner from tonight fills the air, making your stomach growl with protest. You hadn’t expected to meet so early in the evening with Fred and George. Most of the time you’d meet with them after most of the students had gone to bed, but not tonight. They approached you at the Hufflepuff table and ushered you away with them.

Even now, as you walk side by side with them, you have no idea what the sense of urgency is about. The few times that you attempted to pry an answer out of them, they would merely glance at each other and smirk.

At first, you think maybe they’re leading you to the dark passageways. Then you pass near the blind folded woman’s statue, go up several floors and head towards the astronomy tower. The further you go, the more thrown off you are. It wasn’t until you reached a particularly empty corridor when they held out their arms to stop you.

Fred speaks with a twinge of excitement in his voice. “Here we are.”

George takes your hand in his. His gaze is set forward at a plain looking stone wall. You squint and tilt your head at it, trying to decipher what is so special about this location. He squeezes your hand and looks down at you. “Close your eyes, Y/N,”

“Why?” You ask cautiously. 

They refer to each other again, then Fred says calmly, “just trust us.”

“I promise,” George adds. “It’ll be worth it.”

You sigh, knowing full well that they aren’t going to tell you until you follow their directions. You reluctantly shut your eyes and allow them to guide you forward. Then they turn you around and head back in the same direction. This happens a few times, and you’re starting to get annoyed with this whole situation. If they dragged you up here and away from dinner just for a prank, then you’re going to be furious.

“There it is,” Fred exclaims, and your eyes open.

In front of you, where the plain stone wall was, is a large wooden door. The twins look at you, then back at the door.

“What is this?” You say with astonishment. “This definitely wasn’t here before.”

“No,” George explains, “it only appears when you really need something.”

“The Room of Requirement,” Fred adds. “Only a few others know of its existence.”

“Need something,” you repeat. “What’s inside?”

“That’s the best part,” Fred replies.

“And you're about to find out,” George finishes. His fingers tighten around your palm. "Go ahead, Y/N, open it.”

You hesitate with your hand on the latch, unsure if this is just a joke or not. If they are telling the truth, what exactly is it that the three of you need? Fred places a firm hand on your shoulder and you can feel his fingers twitch in excitement as you finally begin tugging it open.

It is only when you step into the room that you truly take in what's in front of you. There are floating candles lining both the left and right sides. The walls are a deep red and accented by deep gold. In the middle lies a large bed with velvet sheets, a golden metal headboard that has the most elegant design of swirls that form into a lion's head. 

You hear the door close behind you, and you swing around to face the brothers. Their eyes are focused on you as they move towards you.

"It took us a long time to perfect it," Fred explains as he pulls at his tie.

"We had to be specific on exactly what we needed," George says and gazes around the room. "What we thought you would want, too."

As you reflect on what they’re saying, you notice a small dark wooden table sitting at the entrance. A black box with a piece of parchment is peeking from underneath it.

This entire situation feels like a dream that you’re going to wake up from any minute. There was an air of mystery and tension that you can’t fully comprehend. The brothers have been planning this? For how long and why? Isn’t what they had in their secret room in the passageways similar to this? Even so, there was no denying the elegance and style within these four walls.

“What is it?” You ask with your fingertips grazing the top of the engraved wooden box.

George takes your hand and leads you across the floor. "Before you open it, there's some things we wanted to go over." You follow him, stepping right to the edge of the large plush bed. He sits and pats firmly on the velvet sheet, leaving a bit of a wrinkle behind. "Please, sit."

You perch yourself next to him and try to read his expression, to get any sort of clue to what they have planned. Surprises were never your forte, but lately you haven't had much of a choice.

Fred joins to the right of you and brushes your hair delicately from your shoulder. He has the mysterious black box sitting on his lap. You consider reaching over to grab it, but George places his fingertips on your wrist.

"We want you to be ours," George says so directly that it makes the blood immediately rush to your cheeks.

You stammer out, "I-I'm.. sorry?"

"You heard him right," Fred whispers, leaving a trail of kisses up your shoulder to the base of your neck. "We want you to be ours."

"Fully ours," George adds. "Would you like that?"

You try to focus on the question as Fred's lips find the crook of your neck. "Do you mean.. like a formal boyfriend and girlfriend situation?"

Fred hums as he licks and nips. "Mhm." His teeth sink in, and his warm mouth envelopes your reddening skin.

You squirm and squeeze George's hand. "I want that," you say quickly and lean into his brother's touch.

The black box gets pushed into your lap now. Fred removes his lips and watches you intently.

You find the edge of the lid with your thumbs and begin lifting it, the heart in your chest is pounding so hard that it threatens to burst right out of your chest. With both hands you carefully pull the item out of the box. The candle light glows off of the golden heart charm that dangles from the crimson leather strap.

“Is this a..” You take a sharp breath in and look at George. “A collar?”

He nods and takes it from your hands. “It’s not just a collar.”

“Merlin’s beard, no.” Fred laughs and reaches out to touch the object. “It’s made specifically for you.”

“I don’t understand,” you say with a frown.

Fred kneels before you, then begins to undo a few of the buttons from your shirt. "Let us explain, then."

George wraps his arm around your waist. The bridge of his nose bumps against your temple, his warm breath on your cheek. "Since the moment we met you, we knew that you were something special to us."

"So special," Fred repeated his brother's words. He stops unbuttoning right before your bra would be exposed. He looks at you, his expression hungry with lust. "So we made something to show your loyalty."

"Show my loyalty?" You ask, trying to look bravely into his fully dilated pupils. 

He nods as George runs a finger from your chin to the start of your cleavage. 

"It's not that we don't trust you," George explains with a softness in his voice. "We just thought it would be, well.."

"Fun," Fred finishes. His eyes flick from the collar in your palms to your bare neck. "But there's more to it than that."

"A few stipulations, of course. But it also benefits all parties involved."

You look down at the crimson collar. "Stipulations?"

Fred gets to his feet and pulls you up with him. They both lead you to the large mirror that hangs on the wall next to the bed. You must have missed that coming in, unless it had just appeared there when they needed it. They both stand close behind you, and George lifts the collar to your neck. The cool leather meets your reddened skin.

"Look at it now," Fred instructs. You look up and see a delicate golden locket resting on your bosom, though you could still feel the collar wrapped around you. "Nobody will know except us."

"Wait," you say quickly and stare at their reflections. "You want me to wear this outside of this room?"

"Darling," George says sweetly, making your chest tighten. "We want you to wear it all the time."

"Think of it as a contract of our devotion," Fred smiles.

You turn around to face them directly. So many feelings are floating around your head that it's difficult to pick one to focus on. You want to be theirs. It's what you've always wanted. Pushing between them, you pass by and sit on the edge of the bed again.

They follow you and kneel down in front of you. A hand on each of your knees, they stare up at you.

George breaks the silence with, "Freddie, I think we should tell her the benefits, don't you?"

"Oh, I do," he says with a smirk. "This also amplifies touch."

"Ours, to be exact. Only ours."

You glance between them and then down at the floor. "How amplified?"

George reaches up and tilts your head up with his thumb. You meet his amber colored eyes as he whispers, "I think it's better if you find out for yourself."

You swallow the lump in your throat and grasp the collar, lifting it toward your neck. They both stop you, then Fred pulls out the slip of parchment that had come with the box. 

He hands it to you and points at the words. "This is a binding spell. Once you say this, the collar will remain on until, well,"

"Until you don't want to be ours anymore," George explains, the corner of his lips pulling down with just mention of it.

You nod, taking the slip in your fingers and reading the line to yourself. "Do I just say this out loud?"

"Yes, but you have to mean it," Fred says.

"Fully," George adds with a serious tone.

"Right." You clear your throat and lift the parchment so that the candle light illuminates it completely. You close your eyes for a moment and dig deep for how you feel about the brothers. You think back on all of the tenderness, kindness, and ecstasy that they've brought you. They individually bring different qualities to the table, and together they make them a perfect match for you.

Most of your life you've been unsure about most things, but not this. You want to be theirs. Fully.

You open your eyes and look at them each individually as you speak out the binding spell with confidence. "I solemnly swear that my body and mind is only yours."

With the last word, the collar flies out of your hand and fastens itself around your neck. You immediately panic and try prying it off of you, but it doesn't budge. 

George grabs your hands and coos, "it's okay, you're okay. It's part of it."

You take a deep breath and allow yourself to get accustomed to the new sensation. Fred reaches out and runs his finger over the leather and the tiny golden heart that dangles from it. 

"You look so hot wearing it," he breathes out and slides a finger under the metal loop. With a gentle tug he pulls you towards him as he leans forward, meeting you in the middle with a hungry kiss.

Your entire body reacts to him immediately. It's as if volts of lightning spread through your veins, setting your body on fire with lust. You gasp loudly. He smiles and lunges forward to pin you on your back. His finger remains pulling the collar, as he hovers over you.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" George calls to you, leaning on the mattress while propped up on one arm.

Before you can reply, the twin on top of you begins kissing down your neck to your collarbone. Every single touch makes you feel on fire. The leather around your neck pulsates as if it's alive and feeding your ecstacy, kindling and breathing life into the flames. You're digging your nails so hard into his shoulders that it leaves little crescent moon shapes behind.

Fred dips down, slides his arm underneath you and lifts you effortlessly. He crawls with you a foot or so and drops your head onto an inviting plush pillow. You stare up at him in a daze as he begins undoing his tie.

If just kissing them makes you this weak, what would all the other stuff be like? You can already feel that you're soaking through your panties, and they've barely touched you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts as Fred grabs both of your arms and lifts them above your head. "I know this must be a lot for you." The cold metal meets your skin and you flinch. He crosses your wrists as he wraps the Gryffindor tie around them. "But I'm going to make sure you enjoy every last bit of it."

His chest meets yours and he tangles his fingers in your hair. You try latching onto him, but your arms remain tightly fastened to the lion headboard. His lips linger over yours, his hot breath on your skin. He's so close that you can see yourself reflected in his dinner plate pupils.

"You're mine," he says so lowly, that it almost comes out as a growl. You shiver and nod your head. "Say it, darling. Say it for me."

"I'm yours, Freddie," you cry out as he pulls your head back by your hair. The pleasure rolls down your spine and you involuntarily curve against him. "Please, touch me."

George's voice comes in from the side of the bed where he's watching. "She's being so good for you."

"She is," Fred laughs and draws closer to your face. "I think she deserves a reward for her dedication." His fingertips dig into your ribs and he forces your legs apart with his. "Don't move, just lay right there for me."

You fidget your arms and look up the red and gold tie around your wrists. You can still slide up and down on the swirling metal bar, but only an inch or two. You look back to the brothers who are now almost completely naked, aside from their tight underwear that can barely contain their erections.

Fred is on you again, but he's delicately unbuttoning your shirt. Your lacy black and yellow bra is revealed as he swipes the fabric to the side. He carefully slides your skirt down your thighs and throws it across the room. You lay there, completely vulnerable and exposed.

"Your body is beautiful," George comments as he runs a gentle finger down your bare side. You try to close your legs but his brother's hips prevent you.

Fred leans over you again and smirks. "Bloody hell, I could get used to seeing you tied up like this."

His hands slip under your bra and tenderly caress your nipples. You crane your head back into the bed and bite back another moan. You can't believe what this is doing to you, every part of your body is hyper aware. He squeezes your breasts and rolls the hardened nubs between his fingers.

You lift your head to gasp and he meets your lips with his. His large wet tongue probes your mouth and twists with yours. Every moan that escapes you is forcibly muffled by his mouth.

The mattress on the bed shifts, and George is next to you now. Fred breaks the kiss, just for his brother to take his place. Your panties are moved to the side and you feel something warm sliding up your slit. You can see him holding his hard cock from your peripheral, running it just on the cusp of your needing pussy.

"Fuck Y/N, you're soaked," Fred groans and meets your clit with the head of his erection.

You shake and let out a sharp whimper. Just the slightest contact almost sends you over the edge. You already want to beg for release as he teases your opening. The headboard rattles as you wriggle in your restraints. Between his head slowly stretching your walls and George's tongue rolling against yours, you're overwhelmed with ecstacy. 

Fred thrusts forward and enters you fully, which makes you throw your head back and scream. George gently strokes the hair from your flushed face, staring lovingly down at you.

"Freddie," he says calmly. "Let her ease into it."

Fred does as he's told and keeps his cock buried deep inside of you. Your walls clench around him as he pulsates, leaving you helplessly struggling underneath him. You can feel every single inch of him stretching you out.

"I don't want you to cum until we tell you," George instructs while his hands tenderly stroke your face. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," you reply sharply as Fred pulls out a bit.

"Good girl," George coos before beginning to kiss you again.

Fred starts up again slowly and you shake uncontrollably beneath him. You are desperately gasping for air, but are cut short when his thumb meets your slick clit.

"Fuck!" You gasp, but immediately have George's tongue in your mouth again.

Then Fred moves again, but achingly slow. His thumb grazing your needing nub, ever so often adding pressure to make you moan into his brother's mouth. Your legs quake and close around him as an orgasm approaches. You aren't sure how you're supposed to hold back and signal when you're close. You focus, trying to pull your hips away, and break George's deep kiss.

You're on the brink and about to give in completely when George lifts his mouth from yours.

"Please! I'm close!" You cry out as another tremor rolls down your body.

Fred lifts his finger and stops thrusting. "Not yet," he says firmly. He picks up his pace again after you relax your body.

You whimper and look up at George, who is watching you closely. The freckles on his face are accentuated by his messy ginger hair that tickles you when he leaves trails of kisses up your chest. 

"Hey Fred," he says wistfully as he watches your eyes roll back back into your skull.

"Yeah?" Fred grunts as he slams into you, making you gasp out in surprise.

George runs a hand over your bouncing tits. "Think I could have a go at her?"

Without another word, he pulls out suddenly. You pant and writhe from the lack of stimulation. You had almost hit your peak multiple times, and it was making you hazy and needier than ever.

Your hands are freed at once by Fred, then you're immediately flipped over on your stomach. You push yourself up with your aching wrists. Once your vision returns, large hands with a long flat object come into focus. They reach for your neck and you hear a faint 'clink' sound. 

Fred is sitting against the headboard, his cock out and still gleaming from your slick. In his hand is a leash, which he pulls and guides you toward him. You shakily crawl between his legs. Then you feel George behind you. His palms resting on your bare ass. The tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

With a tug of the collar, Fred forces you towards his face. "Look at me," he demands as his brother slides inside of you. Your eyes start to go out of focus so he grabs you by the hair. "Bloody hell, you're a mess right now. Just look at you."

George's hips press against your ass and you know he's fully inside. Your walls stretch and strain against his size, making your eyes tear up from both pleasure and pain. Your arms shake and you fall to your elbows as you cry out.

Fred takes this opportunity to guide your mouth onto his throbbing cock. You do so without hesitation, you want to be allowed to cum. You want to be good so they finally give you the release you need more than anything. Your tongue teases his head and shaft, then he forces himself down your throat. He holds you there with the leash wrapped around his white knuckled fist.

You gag and choke as George slams from behind. Your juices begin dripping down your thigh with each thrust. You love being between them. You love letting them use your body to please them.

"Merlin's Beard, your mouth is incredible. You're doing such a good job," Fred groans and releases the tension on the leash. You unsheath his cock from your throat and cough a few times. Once you catch your breath, you go right back to working on him again, trying to push yourself to leave him in your throat even longer.

George pants and grabs your hips with force as he thrusts into you. "I think we should let her cum, what do you think?"

Fred nods, then rests his head against the metal lion and moans. "She's earned it."

Your legs are pried apart and George snakes his arm around your waist. The moment he finds your clit, your throat closes and constricts around Fred’s erection. He moans and grabs you by the hair, making your head bob up and down slowly. Your legs and core trembles as a finger expertly circles the top of your cunt. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak. Right as it hits you like a shockwave, Fred pulls you up by your collar and kisses you.

“Yes, that’s it! Cum for us, darling,” Fred encourages as you crumble pathetically onto his chest.

Just like that, you reach your peak again and again. It was like a wave crashing onto the shore one right after the other. Your entire mind goes blank as the flood of pleasure releases throughout your body in a way you have never experienced before. You hold onto Fred’s chest and look up at him with pleading eyes as the overstimulation of multiple orgasms melts your brain. You love being theirs. You love every part of this.

George stops and withdraws from you. Before you can even fully take in all that you’re feeling, Fred pulls you to sit directly on his cock. You straddle him at once, sliding down his shaft until this tip of him reaches your cervix. He fits you perfectly. They both do. He holds the leash in one hand while his other arm restraints your waist against him.

Fred remains buried in you as his brother approaches from behind holding a floating candle. George takes you from him, lifting you by your shoulder so that your back lays flush against his chest.

“Have you ever tried melted candle wax?” He whispers in your ear.

You can barely even comprehend what he says when you feel a burning sensation down your chest. You jump with shock as hot wax drips over your tits and stomach, slowly drying as it travels to your hips.

“Watch where you’re aiming that,” Fred warns, bucking his hips up and making you instantly crumble backwards.

“Sorry, sorry,” George laughs and tilts the candle so that another round of white wax pours over your breast and nipple. The pain isn’t as jarring this time, and it fades away just as quickly. “You really are perfect,” he says to you as you feel your ass being parted.

Fred pulls you down by the leash and holds you flat against his chest, the wax melting and rubbing off as you press together. His arms are tight around you as George pushes himself gently inside your ass. You writhe in pain as he fills you up.

“Good girl, you’re doing great. Just relax for me,” George coaches as his lubed shaft slides in fully. “That’s it, perfect.”

Both of them move in perfect unison, one pulling out while the other pushes in. All the while Fred holds your leash tight so that your face remains close to his. His cheeks are flushed and his mouth slacked open. His eyes remain completely focused on your expressions, taking in every sound you make.

George slaps your ass and grabs you by the hips and plunges himself as deep as possible, pushing you hard against Fred. That sends you over the edge immediately. Your cunt and ass tighten and you scream out. You love it, having both of your holes completely stretched to the limit by them.

It wasn’t too long ago that you would have been embarrassed to be so vulnerable to the twins, but here you are now letting them fuck you stupid. How did you even get to this point? How did they so easily break down your walls?

These thoughts are cut short by another sudden orgasm. Fred curses under his breath and bites his lip as he watches you crumble before him. Tears stream down your face as the tremors of pleasure take over your body. Your legs shake violently and both of the brothers dig their fingers into your sides to hold you steady.

“We are almost there darling, just hold out a little longer for us,” George grunts from behind, his thrusting increasingly getting rougher.

“I-I w-want-” you stutter and plead.

“What do you w-want?” Fred asks breathily, mocking you with a huge grin. He grips your leash, making the pressure increase at the back of your neck. “Tell us.”

You look deep into his amber eyes, seeing the lust and devotion mirrored right back at you. “I w-want you to fill me up.” Your body is being jostled, your tits bouncing as they increase their speed. “Please,” you beg.

Fred pulls you into a hungry kiss, then breaks as he reaches his peak. His hips jut upwards, filling your cunt with his cum to the brim. George follows shortly after, collapsing against your reddened ass cheeks as he spills into you. They’re both grunting and moaning, their grip on you slowly loosening.

George pulls out first and collapses on the bed to your left panting, his arm covering his sweating forehead. Fred lifts you off of him and places you between the both of them. For a few minutes, you all collectively lay there in silence as you recuperate.

The velvet sheets are soft and inviting, definitely more so than the old comforter back at their original spot. You look up at the ceiling and see each of the house crests delicately carved in the gold tiles. This room was beautiful and had so many secrets and details that were waiting to be found.

You curl up to George, your head resting on his heaving chest. Fred wraps his arms around your waist and nestles his face in your hair. You delicately run a finger up George’s neck and hold his cheek with your palm. He turns his head, kisses your forehead and looks into your eyes. You touch the small golden heart that’s dangling from the crimson collar around your neck.

“I hope I never take this off,” you admit with tears welling in your eyes.

“We hope you don’t either,” George says with a smile, reaching up to catch one of your tears with his thumb.

“That’s the last thing we’d want,” Fred adds from behind you and squeezes you tightly.

“Then I won’t,” you say with certainty.

“Good,” George says sweetly and caresses your cheek.

You mean it too. There was more than just lust between the three of you, and it’s something you’ve known from the very beginning. You aren’t sure exactly what the future holds, but you know that you will fight to keep this connection that you have with Fred and George. 

For as long as possible.

Because you are theirs. Fully.

[fandomsfordays21]

Soul Experiment AU: Experiment 041: Ink

Thanks for the support on my previous post about this au!! Since Ink and Error are going to be the "main" characters in this au. I thought I would start with them. I have more ideas on what to do with Ink though so we're starting with him. I'm going to do a poll after this so you guys can decide who I post about next. I'm planning on posting about one character per day as well as posting about my magic/soul system and then I'll work on some other stuff for this au like maybe a fanfic if enough people like it. (I'm also aware of how badly this is written, it's hard to fit all the details in this post alone. There will be separate posts about each character that take the form of Error's "Scientific Entries" but I wanted to go for a more narrative format here. Once again, ask box is open if you need clarification on anything here. I will answer even if I plan on including it in another post.)

To begin with, Ink actually has a Soul in this au, but it just doesn't work properly. Monster Souls work as both the heart, brain, and all other organs that would normally be present in the body of a Human. The "brain" functions of Ink's soul do not function properly, as his soul does not produce the magic needed for emotions and motor functions. This is where Error comes in.

Ink was taken to the lab to be used as a subject for experiments under the name "John Doe" as he had no identification, probably no family, and it was thought that he was fallen down, and that there was no hope for him. Ink was exactly what Error was looking for in a subject, a skeleton monster, fallen down so his soul must be in a deteriorative state, and he was completely unresponsive to any and all stimuli. This made him the perfect subject for Error to test the different ways he was going to wake up Geno.

Once Ink arrived to the lab, however, and Error got to do a proper examination of the nameless shorter skeleton, he came upon a problem. This Monster... wasn't fallen down. Sure, he was unresponsive in a way that was incredibly similar to the coma-like state of a fallen Monster, but it was different. Ink's soul was completely intact and undamaged, and so was his body, his HP and all other stats were completely fine, so what the hell was wrong with the subject?

Error called in the Joku twins, Dream and Nightmare, both coming from a family of Monsters with emotion-based abilities, both brothers being the last of the line and with the strongest recorded abilities. They sensed... Nothing? There was no emotional output from the nameless skeleton's Soul whatsoever, or even any emotional input, since neither of the twin's auras had any effect. This is where the experimentations began.

First line of business was to identify the problem. A Monster's Soul is similar to an organ, yes, but also so much more complex. Was the problem within the emotional magic portion of this Monster's Soul? Or was there another underlying problem that was causing it? If this Monster truly did lack the ability to produce emotions in his Soul, so much so that he was in a vegetative state, then how was he alive? How had he lived to be around the same age as Error? The scientist shook his head, 'I have more urgent things to worry about with this subject.'

A breakthrough. There was a breakthrough in Error's research that he had never seen coming. He had figured out how to isolate the emotional magic in a Monster's Soul. More importantly, he had figured out how to extract it. It wasn't a nice process, the Monster's had to be fully alive and aware during the extraction, which was incredibly painful and had lead to the death of many subjects, but it was incredible. If Error could manage to directly transfer magic from one monster to another, he could very well do similar with Human Soul traits or even entire souls.

However, this had to be tested first.

The original trial of Ink's colors is one of the few he can actually remember. He woke up on a cold metal stretcher with a bunch of machines making noise around him. His whole body felt weird and heavy. He was feeling emotions at the time, yes, but also didn't feel quite right. Like something was missing or that he didn't have enough of something. This was, of course, due to Error only providing a low dosage to start with, in case anything went wrong. Ink, of course, didn't know that, nor did the notice the glitchy skeleton wearing a lab coat that was sitting in the corner of the room, observing quietly and taking notes.

Ink blacked out again within two hours.

There was lots of testing done after that. The first trial was called that for a reason, after all.

Error introduced himself properly to the shorter skeleton by the time of the second test, seeing how the subject would respond to another person, which was met with overwhelming enthusiasm and then a puddle of vomit on his shoes.

That was a problematic side effect.

The main problem with harvesting emotional magic is that each emotion has to be harvested individually, and each is a different color. This was a problem because no particular label was given to any color, so testing each color and then recording the results was the most probable solution. Followed by giving more or less to see what dosage was the right one. There may or may not be a particularly ripped page in a notebook that desperately outlines the dangers of an intense amount of red.

Every time a test was conducted, Error would ask a series of questions to see if the influence of different concoctions would yield different answers, but also to learn more about the individual with the strangely marked bones. Oddly enough. Ink had no memory of a time before waking up in the lab, and never remembered anything that happened between tests. The memory problems were consistent, unfortunately, however not on the level of amnesia that was previously suffered. "Ink" is a chosen name, based on the markings on his face and the rest of his body.

Months passed and eventually Subject 041, or "Ink" as he had chosen to be called, was functioning as properly as an individual with a malfunctioning soul could. Going outside the lab was an option now, and Ink does regularly. He carries around vials full of each color (He decided that ingesting it was much easier than the injection method being used prior) but still lives within the lab as it is the source of his ability to feel and is where most of his companions live. (Getting to see and bother Error on a daily is a plus too.)

[nixthelapin]

I saw an older post about when Gabriel tried to akumatize Felix in s4 using the twin ring he stole: (picture bc why not)

The post was made when a big consensus was that one of the twin rings was Felix’s amok, and therefore put his life at risk choosing that as the akuma object, something he later did with Kagami in s5:

But with s5, we learned that Felix’s amok isn’t the twin ring, but that other ring he always wears. However- the twin rings (both) are Adrien’s amok, meaning Gabriel put his own son at risk by trying to akumatize him with it. (A conclusion many have already come to and have pointed out)

…or did he?

Because I’m kind of wondering how much danger Adrien would’ve been in if the akuma actually took, and subsequently be broken by the heroes. I don’t really think that Adrien’s feather would come out if that ring broke- there’s still the other ring. We saw in Crocoduel how about akuma object can be split and can only be released if put together again first, so why not for Amoks? If one of the rings broke, a feather probably wouldn’t even come out.

But that doesn’t necessarily mean Adrien would’ve been completely fine.

In Felix’s backstory, this happened:

His ring cracked (not broke), and he collapsed (passed out) instead of vanishing.

Since Adrien’s is a different format, being two rings, I can’t say I’m completely positive, but I think it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think that if only one of his rings broke, that he might collapse/pass out like Felix did when his amok was damaged.

So if one of the rings broke (but not the other), then maybe it would be the same as a single piece amok cracking, since it wasn’t completely broken, only partially.

If this is how it works, then if an akumatized Felix loses, and the ring breaks, the magic ladybugs would fix the ring and there’d be no lasting consequences to Adrien (minus the fact that it would cause him to collapse as Chat Noir, thus revealing his identity to Gabriel, but that’s a different concern lol). There’s also the fact that Felix’s ring is very much not cracked anymore (and I guess wasn’t when he finally got it off his father), it’s possible that it self heals somehow (seriously, I’d love to know how the cracks got fixed).

To conclude: Gabriel still put his son at risk by picking the twin ring as the akuma, but probably didn’t think there was any major concern of actually killing Adrien.

(Though I guess I could be wrong about no feather coming out if just one broke because multiple feathers did need to get purified in Megaleech, but that was because of the object being multiplied, not an object with multiple parts, so I’m gonna assume for now that it’s just one feather total for the two rings.)

[teecupangel]

Hey, so, assassins creed x Idols (Kpop?). From the comments of the other post I remember the band "Now United" where every member is from a different country, maybe it can be used as a concept for the band?, idk I'm just giving ideas but I really want to continue the idea of them as group bc I found it hilarious lmao.

I tried looking for the post where we talk about this but I can’t find it anymore TTATT

(Also, it’s kinda funny that I’m answering this ask now the same day I watched the last Hololive concert with my friend. What a coincidence lol)

So, first things first, since my idol era happened during the early 2000s with Jpop, I’m going to borrow the setup of Debut or Die for this one to make it feel more Kpop XD

First things first, we’ll set up what we need in the idol group:

Lead Vocalist

Sub Vocalist

Main Dancer

Lead Rapper

(there are other parts like “Face of the Group” or “Main Visual”… aka the most photogenic one, maybe even something like the group’s composer/lyricist if we want that)

Anyway, we’re focusing on those 4 because this is the formation for Desmond, Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Okay, let’s be honest. We’re going to put Desmond in the lead vocalist part because it’s me XD

But, putting him as sub vocalist would be a random reference to the fact that Desmond’s voice actor, Nolan North, sang the sub vocalist part of Saint Row IV’s Opposite Attract singalong scene

(this also help show how high Nolan North can sing I guess?)

Also, also, Ratonhnhaké:ton has to be the lead vocalist. His voice actor, Noah Watts, has a 13+ min video showing why Ratonhnhaké:ton should be the lead vocalist.

Altaïr would be the main dancer because I like the idea of Ezio being the main rapper and Altaïr’s body build would make him a good dancer.

So our final setup would be

Ratonhnhaké:ton – Lead Vocalist and Maknae (the youngest by one year)

Desmond – Sub Vocalist and the reluctant leader

Altaïr – Main Dancer and maybe their dance coordinator?

Ezio – Lead Rapper and Face of the Group + Main Visual

Now, I think you asked what Edward’s part will be?

Normally I would say Edward can a retired idol turned into this group’s manager but let’s fuck with the timeline and make everyone around the same ages and turn this into…

ACB48

hehehehe

(for those wondering, this is a reference to one of the longest idol group in Japan, AKB48)

So Desmond’s group would be part of ACB48 together.

Other groups include:

A group composed of Edward, Arno, Evie and Jacob (fans jokingly calls them the Hundred Years War Group)

A group composed of Shao Jun, Arbaaz Mir, Nikolai Orelov and Aguilar de Nerha.

A group composed of Kassandra, Alexios, and the twins Eivor and Havi.

A group composed of Bayek, Aya and Basim.

(Modern Assassins will be assistants or managers. Other historical Assassins can have their own group: like maybe Malik and Federico with their own group??? An all girls group of Claudia, Mary Read, Anne Bonny (even if she's not really an Assassin), María, Rebekah and Roshan)

And, of course, one of their rival idol group is made of Haytham Kenway, Shay Cormac (who was once part of ACB48), Daniel Cross and Maria Thorpe. (The CEO of their company is Warren Vidic)

Since they’re all of similar ages (around late teens early to mid twenties), Edward and Haytham are brothers and Ratonhnhaké:ton is their half-brother. Whether they’re cousins with Ezio is up to you.

[backtothethunder2023]

The Thundermans Return (new poster) (discussion + theory)

There are two versions (that I found so far) of the poster! BOTH are really, really confusing, but let's analyze!

Let's actually start with the background: it's Hiddenville, which makes sense ("The Thundermans Return" to Hiddenville), but we already know that the movie will take place in various locations, so I really hope we will get to see more of Metroburg (and that it will be included in a poster too). But it's really nostalgic and...strangely it sets a very interesting mood. I can't find the right word for it right now. Especially with the color of the sky. You really know SOMETHING is going to go down this time.

Now about the Thundermans. We have Max and Phoebe at the front: the new supersuits look really cool (especially the gloves!) and we have a standard pose that works well. Just one question: WHERE is the rest of Phoebe's left arm. At first thought she had her left hand on her hip, but obviously not, so this remains a mystery for now 🕵️‍♂️. Notice how all of the Thundermans are posing slightly differently and only the twins' poses are exactly the same! We -again-see the golden stripes on Max's arm that stand for being one of the captains of the T-Force (formally the Z-force). He also has a device (maybe a smartphone) in the pocket on his leg. In general, it seems that all the individual suits are slightly different (not just the boys and the girls).

(insert deleted comment about Max's new hairstyle here XD)

I want to talk about Billy next, because I just live for how happy he looks. Look at him. He's happy to be there, he looks cool and he's all ready to go! And no, he and the twins are not on a staircase or something - Diego is simply this tall now (and Phoebe and Max are both in a medium squat).

Next we have Nora: she has darker hair now (resembling Phoebe's hair colour) and I really like the pose she does with her left hand to focus her laser. Unfortunately her stance is slightly strange to me (but that's maybe also because Phoebe's elbow is covering half of her leg).

I don't have much to say about Hank and Barb, so let's move on to Chloe, who the center of this whole picture. I'm really intrigued by this. I love her smile and overall expression -she knows exactly what she's doing. AND - after looking at this picture for several minutes- she's sitting on a FLYING skateboard! Then there's a second flying skateboard with Dr. Colosso on top. WHAT is going on!? My first guess: flying skateboard - hoverboard-time travel. I actually made a post once on how Chloe might be able to travel in time due to her teleportation power. For me it makes sense (I will discuss this again on here soon), because it also helps with my theory of Mayhem's return (from the past, where he was more powerful). Also the "Thundermans Return..." return back to the future!?!? 👀

My last point is related to this theory. I saw this poster and thought it was strange (but very cool still!). And I thought it's the arm or leg placement, the composition, but you know what? It's the light. Let me explain: there are lights that comes from the sky, the background, then the ones from their individual superpowers (lasers for Nora, lightning for Barb etc.), but when you look closely at the wider poster, you will see a strange light in front of Phoebe and Max too. It doesn't look like telekinetic waves (which are normally not visible, but we saw them once on screen in the episode "Cape Fear"). Actually, I think this light comes from Chloe! She's in the middle, but creates a circular light (you can't really tell in the small poster, only in the wide version) around the Thundermans! Notice how Max's hand is almost reaching out through something - could it be a portal!?!? That really should be it, because Dr. Colosso is very obviously traveling through a portal as well. So are the Thundermans going back in time to stop their enemies? To stop Mayhem?!

Okay one more thing: the formation of the Thundermans kinda looks like a T and I'm so here for it. I can't wait!!! And I am so happy we got a poster!!!

[bloody-wonder]

starting new series (part two)

oops looks like i started ten more new series so here's another super long bookish post🫢

the series that was so good i'm prioritizing it this year is her instruments by mca hogarth (book one: earthrise). set in the same universe as my beloved cozy sci fi about an interspecies qpp, the dreamhealers, earthrise is a story about a down on her luck captain of a trading spaceship who gets roped into Wacky Hijinks after rescuing a space elf nobleman from space pirates. reese eddings has major stressed millenial going through the quarter life crisis energy so i related to her big time. her crew includes: a lion skunk centauroid, a giant bird that communicates in two word phrases and a pair of horny cat twins. yes, that vintage space opera cover doesn't want you to know it's actually a furry book lol. however, it's not about getting sexy with furries - it's about getting unsexy with space elves. speaking of whomst.

hirianthial is a tall blonde aristocratic space elf doctor and you can't touch him bc that would be too hot and inappropriate (and also he'll read your mind). reese hates him on sight bc he's a beautiful fairytale prince and she's a messy 30+yo who may or may not have been drowning her sorrows in binging space elf romance novels by the dozen. major "how dare you come to me now when i am this" scene from the last unicorn vibes. wouldn't it be embarrassing if reese's ulcer burst from anxiety and bad eating habits while they're being chased by the pirates and mr perfect had to operate on her esophagus? what a unique meet cute would that be!

lol to sum it up: i ship it, the furry crew ships it, reese is kicking and screaming refusing to accept that she's the heroine in a romance book, hirianthial manages to maintain his space elf mystique and keep calling her "lady" despite the fact that she's being a horrible little gremlin towards him and taking out all her issues on this poor man. the pacing of the romance is extremely slow, just the way i like it. one could even say this first book doesn't at all contain what an average romance reader would call "romance" - it's more about hirianthial becoming part of the crew during their various misadventures and reese learning to accept that fact. and about the horrors of meeting a very hot guy who is able to know all your deepest insecurities just from touching you. i can't blame reese, i would be cranky too😅

☝️that's me throwing away whatever you were planning to read next and bringing her instruments to your attention

series i'm going to continue next year (or whenever somebody finds time to finish writing his series):

a targaryen history by george rr martin (book one: fire & blood). as you might know, asoiaf is my favorite fantasy series of all time but i was hesitant to read this prequel lore book bc i was afraid i wouldn't like grrm's writing as much now that i've become much more well-read in fantasy and, more importantly, bc i didn't like the first season of hotd. luckily it turns out my appreciation for grrm's writing and worldbuilding is as strong as ever and maaan i just love the targaryens. i just think they're neat. they just want to marry brother to sister, you know🙂 i surprised myself by how much i enjoyed the history book format of fire & blood with its successive generations of kings and queens, multiple unreliable narrators and versions of events, trying to make sense of long gone triumphs and tragedies in hindsight. which i think is also the reason i didn't vibe with the show - it takes away this sweeping epic scope of the book, the weight of the centuries, the unrelenting pendulum of time, with individual fates nothing but blades of grass ground under the wheels of history etc etc and doesn't, in my opinion, manage to compensate for it by fleshing out the protagonists of the dance of the dragons enough for me to be able to get invested in their personal stories. i hope i'll like the second season more but i'm gonna keep my expectations low for now. i mean, it doesn't even have mushroom🍄‍🟫

the neapolitan novels by elena ferrante (book one: my brilliant friend). didn't expect to like this one so much either. most of it is good but not great - a very truthful depiction of girlhood and adolescent female friendships with their camaraderies and rivalries, a good exploration of struggling to access education as a way out of poverty, an atmospheric setting in the 50s naples - but then near the end there's a chapter where the author manages to encapsulate the characters' journeys and throw into relief the themes of the book so masterfully in so few words, using such simple yet impactful visual metaphors, i literally froze while listening to it in the audiobook and then paused whatever i was doing to sit down and reread it with my own eyes. i'm not a prose girlie so i'm rarely so impressed by an isolated piece of writing (the last time it happened was the epilogue of assassin's apprentice, as far as i remember). anyways, i obviously can't discuss it further bc of spoilers but to put it briefly ferrante succeeded in getting to the core of that special bond you shared with your teenage best friend and somehow managed to distill the essence of girlhood friendships into one single scene. chapter 57: if you know - you know🫠

the alexander trilogy by mary renault (book one: fire from heaven). when i finished the lymond chronicles several people recced mary renault's books to me bc they're also queer historical novels written around the same time (so 60-70s) - but having read the charioteer and now this first alexander book i conclude that those are their only similarities. dunnett's writing style couldn't be more different from renault's and, to be completely honest, i find the latter one extremely boring. madeline miller is actually a much better comp for renault (including the questionable depiction of female characters), except the song of achilles could at least be more explicit about the queer love story. not that i'm measuring the quality of these books by how smutty they are - in fact, the only thing i liked in fire from heaven was how renault managed to write around the scenes of gay sex while also making sure we know what's happening. anyways, normally i would just dnf a series where i was so unimpressed with the first book but as far as i understand the persian boy is really the main course here so i'll read that and then, who am i kidding, i will also read the last book in the trilogy bc of completionism. and tbh i'm not yet ready to let go of the image of myself as an elegant dark academia girlie reading classy mary renault books about ancient greece🧐

series i'm maybe going to continue sometime in the future:

london calling by alexis hall (book one: boyfriend material). enjoyed this first book much more than i expected, given that cartoon cover contemporary romance is very much out of my comfort zone and fake dating is one of my most disliked tropes. ig i just like the british humor of it all and that it really felt like those old nostalgic romcoms hall says he was inspired by. i would've liked to see oliver grapple more with how his parents fucked him up but maybe this is explored more in the sequel? which i'm hesitant to read bc it has an abysmal average rating on goodreads😬 i mean it could mean anything: maybe people are correct in that this story didn't need a sequel or maybe we're just unused to there being more to love stories after the characters get together, including more problems. alexis hall is a total discovery for me this year, i think i trust him to make it good, esp given that there really aren't any queer romance series like this out there, focused on a couple going through all the conventional stages of a relationship (dating, marriage, parenthood). but on the other hand i'd really like to hear an opinion from someone i know. so: did any of you read husband material? did you hate it too?👀

chrestomanci by diana wynne jones (book one: charmed life). this was just fine. i like wynne jones' writing and humor but i think this is the kind of book you should've read as a kid. as an adult i can't connect to its themes and characters anymore but what i can do with my adult brain is discern fatphobia🫤 seriously, this is the third time i see fatphobia in wynne jones' books - just small things that upset me and take me out of the story. wtf mam. anyways, i didn't think this book had anything interesting to offer, compared to howl's moving castle with its iconic characters or fire and hemlock with its wtf did i just read, so i was ready to dnf this series but then just the other day i saw a tumblr poll of people voting for their favorite chrestomanci book and the lives of christopher chant won in a landslide. so ig i'll read that just to be sure and then probably move on to the dalemark quartet or smth. i have an inkling i'd like a chrestomanci book focused on a different (cooler) protag more but i'm not going to prioritize it.

the tarot sequence by kd edwards (book one: the last sun). okay this one is a big maybe. like i mentioned before, i just don't like urban fantasy but i decided to try this series nevertheless bc it's so popular on queer booklr and i like to be in the know. and indeed the only thing i'm mildly intrigued by is the slowburn bodyguard romance - so slow in fact that the main guy has a completely different love interest in the first book. will i suffer through chapters upon chapters of boring urban fantasy politics just for the sake of this romance tho? not any time soon.

series i'm not going to continue:

the saint of steel by t kingfisher (book one: paladin's grace). i'm starting to suspect t kingfisher is not our blessed niche tumblr fantasy but in fact their barbarous mainstream award winning fantasy. what in the name of heterosexual lucifer was this?? lol i mean it's not a bad book or anything, ig i just didn't vibe with the religious aspect of the worldbuilding and, more importantly, the romance here is the textbook example of what i dislike in this genre: just two people being horny for each other from the moment they meet. i mean ik this is what it's like for allosexuals irl but when i see this in a book it just seems like lazy writing. the book opens with the most ridiculous meet cute ever (suffice it to say, nobody's esophagus was even involved) and if i were a normal person i would've dnfed right then and there but i forced myself to trudge through pages and pages of these two repressed middle aged people lusting after each other in cursive. which i understand is very relatable content for some readers but ig i could confirm yet again that hetero women's fantasies are not my fantasies. i finally finished it yesterday and picked up her intruments book two right away as a palate cleanser bc, as me and my book bestie like to joke, i don't want any romance in my romance lol. i was somewhat underwhelmed by thornhedge last year so i'm not really interested in kingfisher's novellas either. ig i could try other books from the white rat universe, the ones not focused on horny paladins, but maybe i shoud just accept that this author is not for me🤷‍♀️

the adventures of amina al-sirafi by shannon chakraborty. the city of brass was one of the most disappointing books i read last year but i wanted to give this author another try bc on paper her newest book seemed like the most up my alley story ever: potc are my favorite movies of all time, i completely support the middle aged woman protag agenda and if there is a thing i liked about chakraborty's writing it's that she's not afraid of setting her stories in the real historical periods of our own world and doing the research accordingly instead of just being "inspired" by foreign cultures and time periods. so i was very determined to like this book but unfortunately it didn't work out. you see, in a good fantasy adventure novel characters, plot and worlbuilding work in unison to tell a cohesive story - here on the other hand these three elements felt separate from each other. the characters seemed more like those tumblr posts showing little oc arts and listing their character traits under them than full-fledged dynamic fictional people with a function in the story. their motivation to go on an adventure and to move the plot forward, as it were, never seemed personal and important enough for me to be invested in their success. instead of serving the plot, the worldbuilding and the lore chakraborty researched and constructed so painstakingly derailed the story more often than not. as a result, halfway through the book i'm still waiting for the author to make me care about this team of misfits and the random girl they're searching but instead i'm hit over the head with the bird people island. sigh. but the biggest disappointment was ofc the demon husband😑 you can do so many sexy things with a problematic demon husband but ig chakraborty just has a unique talent for coming up with sexy ideas and bad boy love interests and then making them completely unsexy in her books. well ig i successfully confirmed this author is not for me and i won't try any of her books anymore.

the scholomance by naomi novik (book one: a deadly education). this book was released right around the time i started watching booktube so i vividly remember the controversy surrounding it. at first everybody seemed to hate it but later, when the sequels came out, there was a new wave of readers who liked the series a lot. i'm a big fan of spinning silver and uprooted (not to mention novik's work in otw) and i'm not immune to gritty magic schools by any means so i decided to give it a go. sadly, this turned out to be another dud. i have a sneaking suspicion this story was a much better piece of fiction in its past life as a drarry fanfic, before novik frankensteined it into a perfunctorily diverse, heteronormative, commercialized ya version of hp. i couldn't appreciate the worldbuilding bc it was delivered through a series of the most aggressive exposition dumps ever so the concept of this edgy school that wants to kill you just seemed silly to me. the romance was meh and the fact that i recently read in other lands that does a similar pseudo-hero/pseudo-villain dynamic much better didn't do it any favors either. i liked the abrasive personality of the main character but not so much as to force myself to continue this series in case it gets better. i'll start reading novik's dragon books instead.

2024 reading updates | goodreads

[spade-andthe-microwave]

Chapter One: The Beginning Rating: M (themes of gore, canon-typical violence, trauma) Word Count: 1264

A/N: I am cross-posting this from my A03 now that I've finally decided on formatting everything. Since 5 chapters have already been finished, I'll be posting all five here.

“Yes, good.” Jango nodded in approval as his 9 year old daughter hit the target clean in the center once again, 10th time in a row. “Now, let’s try a moving target again, Faovi.” He pressed a few buttons on his vambrace, the targets beginning to move. “We can take a break once you hit each target three times in the same exact spot.” “Understood, buir.” The young girl nodded, raising her rifle again and steadying it on her forearm, taking a deep breath as she lined up her next shot. This was none other than Jango’s young daughter, Faovi Nasta-Fett. She was born while he was still a slave, only three years into the long 12 years of slavery. The two had only recently escaped, Jango having raised her entirely alone. He had wasted no time in making up for the lack of proper training during those long years of slavery, and it showed with the intense training he put her through out of fear of her being captured again and being unable to defend herself. Despite their short time spent in freedom, Jango had already made himself very well known in the Bounty Hunting world. It didn’t just come with credits and connections, it came with enemies, and he couldn’t guarantee he would be able to protect Faovi when she needed him. If he needed to train her from the rising of the twin suns to the set of them, then so be it. He would rather hear her complain about the heat than not hear her ever again because she was stolen from him. Three shots landed on the first moving target, hitting the same area each time. She moved onto the second, managing yet another three shots in the same area. The last one moved far more sporadically, making it difficult to hit in the same exact spot. She huffed as she only managed to land the three hits, but in different areas. “Blast it.” “Language, Faovi. Try again.” Jango kept an eye on their surroundings, a hand always remaining near his blaster. “Remember what I taught you. Try. Again.”

Faovi let out a soft sigh and observed the movement of the targets, the twin suns shining in her eyes. She squinted her eyes before shaking her head. She slightly lowered her body, reaiming her rifle. She watched as the sun glinted off the targets and quickly changed her approach, hitting the harder target once, then moving to the easiest one with two shots, moving to the second hardest with a single shot. Jango tilted his helmeted head to the side, watching her with interest. He hadn’t taught her this, but it seemed to be proving effective thus far. He kept his mouth shut, waiting to see if she would in fact complete this challenge. Faovi quickly tilted her blaster upwards the moment the harder target blocked the sun again, landing another shot in the same place as before, then hitting the third shot to the easiest target. She shifted her forearm again, landing the last two final shots to the second hardest target, then the final shot to the hardest target once the sun was blocked once again. Each shot hit its target as perfectly as she could get it, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as she lowered her blaster. “Good job, Faovi. I didn’t teach you that, but I’m glad you were able to think on your feet.” Jango nodded his head, tapping another button on his vambrace to stop the targets. “Let’s clean up, then you can have some water. There should be a new job for me from Rozatta. You’re staying on the ship this time. Understood?” Jango began to break down the small, makeshift training targets, Faovi doing her best to drag the parts back onto the ship. “Lift with your legs, not your back Fao’ika.” Jango reminded her, helping to pack up everything before waiting outside of the ship for her. Once she got everything loaded on, he gently ruffled her wavy black hair, holding out the water canteen for her.

Faovi carefully took the water canteen, but didn’t open it to drink until she was seated on the ship. She carefully screwed off the top, feeling how little water there was still left in there. She let out a soft sigh, taking the smallest of few sips, barely enough to quench her thirst, before sealing the canteen once again and passing it back to Jango. Jango took the canteen but felt there was still water inside. “Faovi… ad’ika. We aren’t slaves anymore, remember? We can get more water back at the cantina. You can finish the drink, no one will be upset.” He knelt down in front of her, offering the canteen back. “But, buir. What if they don’t have any more water at the cantina? Or they charge too much for it? Or we crash on our way back to the cantina?” Faovi counted off each of the reasons on her fingers, sapphire eyes laced with mild panic and concern. Before she could list off more concerns, Jango carefully took her hands. “Ad’ika. Enough. We are free. Please drink the water or you’re going to get sick from the heat. You’re sweating a lot.” Jango opened the canteen again and held it out to her, still holding one of her hands. Faovi’s eyes softened and she carefully took the canteen, slowly drinking the rest of the water without spilling a single drop. Jango let go of her hand once she finished, pressing the forehead of his helmet to her forehead. “Thank you. Let’s go ahead and fly back. I have a feeling there is more work to be done.” Jango let go of her and walked into the cockpit, sitting down in the pilot’s seat and flicking the ship on. Faovi quickly sat down in the co-pilot’s seat, tying back her long hair and taking the controls.

“Remember how to pull the ship up off of the ground?” Jango tilted his head towards her. “Yes, buir.” Faovi nodded, carefully tilting the controls to lift the ship off of the ground. Jango nodded silently in approval, guiding her along on how to fly the ship back towards the port. Once they landed, Jango turned off the ship and slid out of the seat. “Stay on the ship, Faovi. Do not even peek your head out. I’ll be right back.” Jango walked towards the ramp of the ship, opening it up before stepping off once Faovi was in her hiding spot. He sealed the ramp behind him, passing off a handful of credits to the service tech waiting outside. “Fuel and a glass cleaning. That’s it.” Jango spoke coldly, walking into the cantina to see what new jobs there were. Faovi remained in her hidden spot on the ship, a hand over the small blaster Jango gave her to protect herself. Her eyes felt heavy, but she did her best to stay awake. Her breathing was soft, quiet, and even, her knees pulled against her chest like a protective barrier. Given they were only recently freed, and that Jango distanced himself from other Mandalorians, Faovi had yet to receive any armor despite being the age in which she could wear it. Time passed by and eventually Jango returned, nodding to Faovi. “New job. We may be able to get you some armor soon, Faovi. With this one, we’ll be able to get you multiple sets.” Faovi’s eyes widened as she looked up at him, her hair shifting back. “So… what’s the job?”

[multiplicity-positivity]

Sorry if this ask gets broken or send more than once, tumblr likes to crash on my phone a lot oops!

Anyhoo, any advice for creating a headmate?

We're a traumagenic system, so we never had any control over when we split new headmates. But I'm a fictive of someone who's a twin and I really miss my brother and would really really love it if he could join us in the headspace, I think he would really like my headmates and they would be very receptive of him <:) I talked to the others about it and they said they think its okay for me to try as long as we do so in a healthy way.

But I dont know how to split a new headmate in a healthy way. Im obviously not going to purposely put us through stress and/or trauma to encourage a traumagenic formation, that'd be unhealthy. BUT I dont know how to help form a headmate in a non-traumagenic way... Do you have any advice or tips? I know theres lots of ways to willingly form new headmates, but I dont really know how to utilize them.

Thank you so much in advance!!

Hi! This is pretty tricky, and in general we’d advise traumagenic systems to make sure they’re in a safe place/have made significant progress towards recovery before attempting to create a headmate. There’s a lot of ways something like this could go very wrong if proper care is not taken! That being said, you do know yourself and your system better than anyone else! So if you and your system believe attempting to create a headmate is the right thing to do and the best move for your system, we’re wishing you the best of luck, and have some resources we can share.

All of the best resources we’ve found so far we’ve compiled in our resources post for questioning systems.

That post ^ has a whole section for plurality that is non-dissociative disorder specific, with tons of links to guides and resources on how to go about creating a headmate. The paromancy (called “tulpamancy” in the links) guides are probably the most comprehensive, with tons of information on creating a paro/thoughtform, which is a type of nontraumagenic headmate.

Y’all might also find it easier and less high-stakes to visualize this person as an imaginary friend or an aspect of your headspace. Lots of systems have NPCs in their headspace which have limited autonomy, but aren’t actually full-fledged system members. You can visualize an NPC in the same way you visualize a setting or object as a part of a headspace - we have a little headspace primer which we’ll link below which might help if you choose to go this route!

If you start out with this potential headmate as an imaginary friend, and they ultimately start to feel like a part of the system, there’s a term for that! It’s called imagi, and you can read a bit more about it on Pluralpedia:

Hopefully this helps at least give you somewhat of a starting point! And if we may, a final word of caution:

Creating a headmate is a big deal. Often this is something that will last forever, and cannot be easily reversed. What is so so important to understand, is that once this headmate can think for themself and are afforded some autonomy and agency, they may make decisions or choose to be something that no one in your system ever would have anticipated.

This means thy may want to separate from their source. They may not act, look, or view themselves the way the twin from your source would have. They may not arrive with source memories, and may not see themselves as your twin at all. In many systems, headmates act and function as their own individuals, and feel happiest when they have their own agency and get to make choices about how they present and interact with the world. This means, there is a chance that any headmate you create won’t live up to the standards you’ve set for them beforehand. We’re not saying this sort of thing will happen 100%! But there definitely is a chance of this occurring, so it’s best to be prepared in case it does.

In the end, this is your choice and a choice to be made by your system! We just hope y’all are understanding the consequences of doing something like this, and know that no matter how you envision your new headmate at the beginning, there’s nothing certain that will keep them that way as they grow and develop on their own. We hope your potential new headmate will be understood, valued, and respected for who they are as they are, and not who others hoped for them to be!

Sorry this got so long! Good luck with everything! We hope this process goes as smoothly for you and your system as it can!

🌸 Margo and 👻 Ghost

[imraespace]

omg hi pookei im like Alive. and like YOURE ALIVE TOO OMG IHIHIHIHI I LOVE THE NEW THEME BTW I LOWK GOT JUMPSCARED THIS BC I WAS TWEAKING ON WHETHER OR NOT IT WAS U BUT ANYWAS HOW AREYOU mueheuheh i missed you

So. I did fail my history test. WELL IT WAS LIKE BORDERLINE FAIL I GOT …. 33/50 on the multiple choice part and the written part id assume i did horrible as well ……… BUT some ppl did worse than me so ITS OKAY I THINK MY PARENTS DONT CARE THEY SAID JUSt do better on the next one

LIKE OKAY STORYTIME BUT ITS NOT REALLY A STORY it was like the night before the test and i was studying and i realized holy flip how am i gonna memorize all of this and i already studied like yesterday and the day before but i was TWEAKING and i was like ok lets go on tiktok and i remembered oh i havent visited this one account recently let me go check. Tell me why they posted that their sibling died. LIKE I HAVENT ACTUALLY INTERACTED W THEM LIKE EVER BUT IM JUST LIKE WHAT. BC IT WAS SO SUDDEN YKWIM and i got sad over it and i was like on the verge of tears but then my dad came into my room and he gave me water and i didnt wanna look at him or id start sobbing but then he started staring at me so then i acc sobbed my eyes out and i blamed it on my history test and he started teaching me about whatever i had to study

after my history test i was lowk grieving the death of who it was but i was so confused on why i was affected BC I LITERALLY DONT KNOW THEM THEY DONT KNOW ME AND I LEGIT NEVER INTERACTED W THEM EITHER SO I WAS LIKE HUH but i feel a little better now i hope that the person who posted about it is okay tho ☹️

umumumumu Nothing has been happening other thna me rotting on my phone and avoiding history and some of my other subjects hw……… will be crying bc i actually have to lock in today

OH YESTERDAY I WENT TO THE MALL WITH MY PARENTS TO BUY JACKETS WHY THE HELL WAS EVERYTHING 250+??? LIKE OK I GET IT JACKETS ARE PROBABLY HARD TO MAKE OR WHATEVER AND THE SUPPLIES FOR IT YADADDADA BUT LIKE I SWEAR JACKETS WERE 50 DOLLARS BEFORE. i told momi ill just freeze this winter and ran into indigo again to find bluelock manga even tho i got all the manga available here (1-14 i am desperately waiting for the sae manga i need him so bad but hes coming out feb 25 next year LIKE WHAT) i found episode nagi manga 1 and i… i bought it. it was. 20 dollars. there are 5 volumes. 20 x 5 assuming they stay the same price is 100. i did more calculations including manga all the way up the volume 31 of bluelock and the figures/plushies and tell me why my estimate price is basicallt 900 dollars on bluelock stuff within 3-4 years. im gomna be on the streets homeless with bluelock merch but its okay bc my glorious blue eyed kings itoshi sae and itoshi rin will be with me …..

IALSO WENT TO GO GET SUSHI WITH MY FRIEND YESTERDAY SO YAYAYYA it was all you can eat and best believe i ate everything like i am literallt kirby i inhaled the whole menu. when it came to desserts i got every flavour of ice cream + mousse cake so i got like …. 9 mousse cakes with different flavours ice cream plus deep fried banana with condense HELPME I THINK KMGONAN BE SICK LIKE THE SECOND I GOT HOME I RAN TO THE TOILET AND MY STOMACH WON THE BATTLE I DIDNT.

OKAYAYA DAILY QUESTION TIME BC I ACTUALLT HAVE NOTHJGN ELSE TO SAY

UMUMUM which bllk character would eat everything at a buffet like they would lick all the plates clean.

- 🐙

HAI POA9AKIE HRUUU IM DYING MY HAIR IS MESSY AND UTS AO HOT I REGRWT WALKING WITH MY JACKET TODAY

HELOMEE EVERYONE GOT SCARED maybe next time I should say something..🤫🤫

I MISSED YOU TOO HRUU?!?!?

oh well.. I partly passed my accounts test bc apparently I wrote the wrong formate even tho she gave us it so😂😂😂😐😒😒😒 we're twinning!!

HELP SAME WITH MINE unless it's like.. end of term if I do bad ill get the talk yk last time I got it I was so scared my mommy is so scary when it comes to school but then she was like open the chocolate for me please! IN YBE MIDDLE OF THE TALK? she gave me chocolate tho so hehehehehe

idek how to study for history I don't think I ever passed it when I used to do it

HELPAME WHAT I also go on tiktok for studying as well I have a collection or whatever you call it

aw that's understandable to cry when you're frustrated I hate that sm BUT THATS SO CUTE my mommy is just like girl idk ask google! (im joking kinda)

oh. idk how much that is in tt and rn.. it's too hot for me to think so.. 😨😨😨

omgw please giveme the winter it's so hot IT SOS HOT SOSOSOSOS HELPPME I CANT FOXJS IN CLASS ITS THE rainy season AND NOT ONE DROP OF RAIN HAS FELL I wanna experience snow as well heheheheheh

there's no bllk mangas here.. only kny here n spy x family hrhehe i might buy jt

I'm giggling the calculating is so me with my money it's okay ill find you on the streets and take you in!!

ALSO.PMG SUSHIII MY FRIEND HATES SUSHI AND ONE TOO SCARES RO TRY IT LIKE WHAT?

omf I would be kirby as well fr I barely eat sushi if it's infront if my face I will yum yum it

OMG? I WNAT THAT OAMSHSH

HELP oh nvm good luck popo

ERM THE ANSWER IS ME I'm in bllk today

[tartrat]

Visceral Reaction: Later That Night

a short continuation to this

this is my first proper attempt at a short comic and of course is all based on a headcanon. Red text is Talia. Blue is Levitating extreme.

I don't really know much about how to format a comic, so i kept this simple with just a more sketchy look and only used grey for the colour scheme. Just a quick companion doodle after the previous post. i also just reused the first square for the last one because it was easier, but i gave him a small smile.

Essentially after Kapyy's outburst in the previous post left him exhausted, Talia and the Levitating extreme coach brought him home. The two get him into bed, and Talia calls her parents to come home, as they are teaching night classes.

This is partially inspired by Safe and Sound (Taylor Swift and The Civil Wars). Specifically the chorus, which Talia sings a bit of in the first panel. I just love the song and it's lullaby style, and i felt that it was fitting.

I would've also made this more detailed, but i wasn't to confident on making a proper short comic.

I'm not the best at writing dialogue, there is more that i would've liked to include but felt that it would read too awkwardly.

I need to make a full post about the twins headcanon. I'm drafting one, and i go a bit more into depth about certain things relating to it, such as how Talia and Kapyy initially met, and why the Levitating Extreme coach is here helping out, as well as who their parents are and how they met.

I scheduled this post because i didn't want to just post both at the same time.

I kinda just want to draw them hugging Kapyy now.

[operationslipperypuppet]

Can you tell us about the deal your character made with a god, the tags made me curious

Hell yes, but fair warning, this might end up being a long explanation. (This is referring to my tags on this post.)

I promise that most of these details i mention will be important.

To start, I’m playing a game of Blades in the Dark in a slight riff on the town that the game is originally set in, which my group determined in a game of The Quiet Year. During that set up game, we established a character who would try to solve the root of supernatural problems in the city but never quite be successful, and the NPC name generator we used spat out the name “Tip Footman, PI”. When we did character creation for blades, i was a bit stuck, and the GM and other players encouraged me to just play Tip, who’s still a bit of a joke, given his playbook (Quotidian, for which the explanation is “just some guy”.) Tip has two failed marriages and has been a PhD candidate for 17 years, and is attempting to finish a dissertation that maybe just has some formatting issues.

Thus a bit of a meme of me playing Tip at any possibility began.

We flash forward a year or so. We decide to play a game of Fiasco as a one shot, still set in Eelmouth, our beautiful haunted town, a decade or so before the events of A Quiet Year. Fiasco starts with dice rolled and pulling certain dice to determine your character’s relationship with the characters next to you at the table. One of the players next to me got our relationship to be “an informant and an investigator”. Tip is an investigator. I was encouraged to continue playing Tip, and I accepted. The other player next to me and I got our relationship determined to be “twins”. Her character and the one i wasn’t connected to were “a vampire and their thrall”. (This is, unfortunately, important.) The last relationship, between the informant and my sister’s thrall was something like “cult leader and follower”.

The way Fiasco works, as my limited memory recalls it, is that on each of your turns you pull a die and either call for a scene between two characters or start a scene with someone. The color of the die determines whether or not the scene will have a good ending.

Throughout the game, some things become interesting. There are some other mysteries that come up. The cult leader/thrall decided to attempt to create a new god. He failed this task in a way where he was able to create a god, just not the one he wanted. This new god, was the god of failure (someone who existed in the anthology of gods in our blades game already).

The information that Tip received from Nell, his informant, was that the cult leader intended to do a ritual with Mags to unthrall her. Something that could kill her, his beloved twin, who he had already lost when she got turned. He couldn’t have that. But he did try to convince Nell to leave the cult.

So then it’s my turn. And I deliberately pick a die that gives me a poor outcome. And i ask for a scene with this god of failure (who is played by the same player who is playing my sister).

The deal Tip makes is simple. This is a new god, he has no followers. And power comes from followers. So Tip will be his most devoted acolyte. In return for the unthralling failing, he will become the poster child for this god. The person who will, at any turn, fail. This is a man who was newly engaged. Who was starting a program and young with his whole life ahead of him. And he was willing to fail at everything, for however long this god saw fit. As long as the other ritual was also a failure.

And it was. So Tip is, forever, marked by failure. Retroactively justifying a lot of the events of A Quiet Year and our Blades game. He’s trying to get out. He has to believe he will get out one day. And he kept his deal a secret. For decades.

The end of the game went poorly for all of the PCs. The cult guy died. Nell is unable to do her art anymore (it was an art cult). And Mags left town, and is hiding forever in a church, afraid of hurting people once more.

And the best part? We didn’t mean for this game to be canon when we started playing it. And it’s fundamental to how the story works now.