#the answer is apparently “most of them”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version): Future V

Alexia Putellas x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You bring home your girlfriend

It’s not often that Alexia finds herself pacing.

She used to do it a lot when she was still playing. She used to pace before big games, up and down the length of the locker room until finally being allowed out to warm up.

This isn’t like that in the slightest.

This is her meeting your girlfriend.

Your Real Madrid girlfriend.

Alexia had thought you were dating that English girl that plays for Chelsea but apparently that was ‘just a fling’ and ‘sleeping with a friend’ which is something Alexia wasn’t quite sure was allowed but apparently it was.

She knew she had never let you go off to Madrid for a girl’s trip with some of the girls you dance with.

Look what had happened.

You’re bringing home one of Alexia’s worst enemies.

It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth as she peaks out of the front windows to see a fancy car pull up. It’s certainly not yours but you’re the one sliding out of the passenger seat.

Alexia breathes out along sigh as she  pulls herself away, desperate to not let you see her lurking.

“Jaume!” She yells up the stairs,” You sister and her girlfriend is here!”

No answer.

“Jaume!” Alexia yells again,” Stop hiding in your room!”

She waits for a second and then Jaume’s desk chair scrapes against his floor and Alexia can move away from the stairs.

“Olg-“

“I’m already here,” Olga says, breezing into the room with a smile on her face,” Ale, you look like you’re about to pop a vessel.” Her finger smooths down the wrinkle in Alexia’s brow. “Calm down. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“Our daughter is bringing home an enemy. I’m allowed to be angry.”

“You’re not angry,” Olga says, a soft smile on her face as Alexia glances back at the door,” You’re nervous. You just want y/n to be happy and you’ve not met this girl yet.”

“I just don’t get why she didn’t just stick with the English girl!”

“I thought you didn’t approve of Aggie?”

“I didn’t! I don’t! I don’t know.” Alexia huffs, glancing away. “I just want her to be happy.”

“And I’m sure she’s very happy with Olaya. Now, put a smile on your face and pretend you aren’t nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!”

The doorknocker goes and Alexia jolts in shock.

“Aren’t you going to get it?” Jaume asks from the top of the stairs and Alexia scoffs.

“I don’t want them to know that I’ve been waiting on them.”

“You’re so weird.”

Alexia ignores her son, waiting a few more seconds before opening the door, plastering an incredibly fake smile on her face when she looks at your girlfriend.

To her credit, Olaya Rodrigeuz doesn’t cower much outside of the usual ‘oh my god, Alexia Putellas is looking at me!’.

“Mami,” You say warmly and Alexia’s fake smile morphs into a real one.

“My bambi,” She coos, hands coming up to hold your face,” I missed you.”

“You saw me last weak.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t miss-“

Alexia freezes as something cold and wet brushes up against her hand and she shrieks.

“Oh, sorry,” You laugh,” This is Flower.”

“That’s a bear.”

“He’s a puppy.”

“Shit, y/n,” Jaume says, forcing his way through the door,” Where did you get a bear?!”

“A puppy.”

“Puppy, bear, same thing,” Jaume says dismissively,” Where’d you get him?”

“I bought him,” Olaya replies as the three of you squeeze into the entrance hall,” Y/n was talking about getting a dog and I saw an ad so I just bought him without thinking.”

It’s probably overreacting on Alexia’s part but she can’t help but notice all the little things as Olaya talks about buying you your dog (who apparently you’ve named Flower). Alexia’s eyes narrow as Olaya’s hand splays out against your hip, the way that she pulls you a little closer and they way you automatically tilt your neck towards her as she presses a soft kiss to just under your jaw.

Your girlfriend is a lot older than you. It’s obvious to everyone but causes the most worry in Alexia.

It was never a secret that you preferred older women. For whatever reason, girls your age never really interested you.

But it always made Alexia wary, especially when said older woman spent money on things like a puppy and held you so close like you were some piece of arm candy.

But that might have just been Alexia’s own interpretation of it.

“Food?” Olga offers up from behind and you stand, clicking your tongue.

“I’ll help. Come on, Flower.”

Your puppy pads obediently over to you and Jaume trails behind, trying to be as close as possible to the bear-like puppy with the flowers on his collar.

Alexia holds her hand out.

Olaya takes it.

Alexia squeezes, her face a mask of indifference.

“So,” Alexia says,” You’re dating my daughter.”

“Yes.”

“And you bought her a puppy.”

“She wouldn’t have done it for herself. She really wanted one but she was nervous to take the last step.”

“So you just bought her a puppy.”

“Yes.”

Alexia stares, long and hard until Olaya visibly slumps, shoulders closing in on herself.

“And the puppy is hers, right? Like if you break up, she gets to keep him?”

Olaya nods. “Yes.”

“Good because she really looks like she loves that dog and I don’t want him taken from her.”

“I only want the best for her,” Olaya says, seemingly uncowed now.

Alexia allows the silence to grow stale for a moment before she finally drops Olaya’s hand.

It isn’t approval. Not yet. But it’s a truce. It’s a ‘I’m not going to throw you out of my house just yet’.

“Now,” Alexia says, leading your girlfriend into the kitchen,” Why don’t you introduce me to my new grandson?”

[daryltwdixon]

hiii, would it be okay if you made a daryl x reader fic where daryl finds out you used to have a crush on him? like someone accidentally reveals it to him and he comes to find you as soon as he finds out just to confirm it?! i just think the concept is so adorable 🥹

Daryl Dixon x Reader Dibs

hehehe this is so cute! It's been sitting in my drafts for a few days, just needed to make the banner!! Thank you bb! enjoy your fluffy daryl drabble

The woman had been lingering too close for most of the run, and Daryl had noticed. It started when they stepped through the shattered doors of the abandoned corner store, picking their way through stripped shelves and broken glass. She wasn’t searching for supplies like the rest of them, wasn’t even watching for trouble—just watching him.

"You’re pretty quiet," she finally said, stepping a little closer.

Daryl shifted, adjusting the strap of his crossbow, eyes scanning the dimly lit aisles. "Guess so."

She let out a soft laugh, twirling a loose thread from her jacket between her fingers. "I think that’s kinda hot. The whole broody, mysterious thing."

From a few feet away, Glenn made a noise—half-choked cough, half-laugh—and Daryl instantly shot him a glare. He wasn’t in the mood for this. He barely acknowledged the woman as he stepped past her, brushing her off without a word. "Sorry I uh...I gotta check back here. Ain’t got time."

He heard Glenn snicker as he caught up with him by the registers, rummaging through drawers for anything useful. "That was painful to watch," Glenn said, smirking as he tossed aside a handful of expired coupons.

"Shut up," Daryl muttered, yanking open another drawer a little harder than necessary.

"You better get used to it," Glenn teased. "Now that we’ve got all these new people from Woodbury, you’re the guy everyone’s whispering about."

Daryl frowned. "The hell’s that mean?"

Glenn shrugged, looking far too amused. "Just saying, a lot of them think you’re some kind of survivalist badass. The strong, silent type." He smirked. "Which I guess is hot, apparently."

Daryl rolled his eyes, grabbing a pack of matches and shoving them into his bag. "That’s stupid."

"Well, Maggie thinks it’s hilarious."

Daryl gave him a wary look. "How’s that?"

Still grinning, Glenn leaned against the counter. "Because Y/N had dibs first."

Daryl froze, his grip tightening on his crossbow. "The hell does that mean?"

Glenn snorted. "She’s had a crush on you for the longest time."

Daryl felt something tighten in his chest, but his face stayed impassive. "Bullshit."

"Nah, man. She did," Glenn continued, totally casual, as if he wasn’t throwing Daryl’s entire world off balance. "Way before all these new people started fawning over you. Maggie says Y/N was into you for ages, she just never said anything. Thought you’d never be interested."

The words settled in his stomach, heavy and unexpected. He clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably. "Used to," he said after a pause.

Glenn glanced up, brow raised. "What?"

"You said ‘had’—past tense," Daryl muttered, voice gruff. "Means she don’t feel that way no more."

Glenn just looked at him, a knowing glint in his eye. "I mean… you could always ask."

Daryl didn’t answer. Instead, he adjusted his crossbow and walked out, ignoring the way his heart was pounding.

🪻🌷🌻🪻🌷🌻🪻🌷🌻🪻🌷🌻🪻🌷🌻🪻🌷🌻🪻

You were curled up in your bunk when you heard boots stop just outside your cell door. Looking up, you found Daryl standing there, shifting from foot to foot like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

"Hey," you said, surprised. "Everything okay?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he held something out to you. A small bundle of wildflowers.

You blinked. "Uh… what’s this?"

He shoved them closer, looking anywhere but at you. "They’re flowers. What’s it look like?"

You stared at them, then at him. "Yeah, but—why?"

Daryl shifted, ears burning red. "Glenn said somethin’."

Your stomach dropped. "Oh god."

"'Bout you," Daryl muttered, clearing his throat. "Said you—you used to—" He hesitated, almost like he wanted to take it back, then forced the words out. "Had a thing for me."

Your breath caught.

Your mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. You wanted to kill Glenn.

Daryl watched you struggle, something tense in his expression. "That true?"

You swallowed, debating whether you could somehow dodge the question. But this was Daryl. You couldn’t lie to him.

"…Maybe," you admitted, feeling your face heat.

His blue eyes flickered down to the flowers in your lap, then back to you. His voice was quieter when he asked, "Still?"

Your chest tightened.

Your fingers curled around the stems of the flowers, slightly crushed from how tightly he must’ve been holding them. That alone made your heart clench. He’d picked them for you.

Slowly, you nodded.

Daryl exhaled, shoulders dropping just slightly, like that was the answer he’d been hoping for but wasn’t sure he’d get. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to do something—maybe reach out—but wasn’t sure how.

Instead, he just stepped closer. "Okay," he muttered.

You bit your lip, hiding a smile. "Okay?"

"Y-yeah, good. I'm...That's good."

The two of you just sat there for a beat, the air thick with something neither of you had the words for. Then, before he could overthink it, Daryl leaned in, pressing a rough, hesitant kiss to your cheek. It was brief, just long enough to send your heart racing, but it lingered in a way that felt intentional.

When he pulled back, both of your faces burning, and your fingers tightened around the flowers.

He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "G’night."

And then he was gone, disappearing down the hall before you could even respond.

You touched your cheek, grinning like an idiot as you pressed your nose to the flowers.

[adrixivy]

Peter has a lot of people he dated cannonly. So imagine when he’s dating Wade, he tells him about his previous lovers. Wade knew them. Well, most of them.

Like he knows about MJ, Gwen, Black Cat and probably Cindy too

What he DOESN’T know is that he apparently wasn’t the first male Peter dated and there was still more. (I’m still shocked) (Shut up Wade)

One day, the pair happened to team up with the Fantastic Four for a day. They decided to help the team and the entire time, Wade notices how touchy Johnny is with Peter and how much he actually talked to the Spider the entire day.

So after they spilt from the team, Wade decided to ask the question.

Wade: When were you so close with Johnny? Like I’m totally not jealous and I know you teamed up with them several times in the past. And I read from one of your many comics that you even became one of their members in a different universe but I didn’t know you were specifically closer with Johnny

Peter, ignoring the comic part and answering everything else: Oh I used to date him. Stayed in the same apartment too for a few months to save money before I moved out and decided we weren’t quite a fit together. I thought you knew?

Wade, absolutely dumbfounded and incredibly more jealous about the fact that Johnny lived with his baby boy before him: Babe, how could I possibly know that.

Then that night when they had their nightly patrol meal, Wade asked if he dated more people. Wade knew most(He thinks?) of his exes but was curious of anymore he doesn’t know. Peter hums thoughtfully before deciding to list out the names

Peter: MJ, Gwen, Felicia, Betty Brant(search her up if ydk) , Cindy, Johnny, Harry, Mark/Stephen(there’s actually a comic panel with him mentioning it) …uhh who else was there… *tapping his chin as he thinks*

Wade, nearly choking on his bite of chimichanga but swallowed it in the end cause he refuses to waste any bits of his second love before yelling: YOU DATED THE MOONKNIGHT? AND YOUR EX BEST FRIEND HARRY?? AND YOU REMEMBER BETTY FROM THE COMICS?

Peter, clenching his fist to calm down and not punch the man: Yes I dated Harry. A year only. Mark was quite short. Like a month or two? And Betty was my first girlfriend, of course I remember her. I still catch up with her, you idiot

Wade’s mind blanked for awhile and Peter had to drag him home. It’s difficult to carry a man a hundred more pounds heavier than him while swinging and calculating equations in his head so he doesn’t die and kill his love too. (Even if said lover can’t die so mostly he’s trying to save himself)

[dalishious]

Hi, hope you're doing well!

I had to unfollow you/block a lpt of tags for a while until I beat datv but I'm so happy to be back. You're one of the first da blogs I followed, and I see you've gotten a lot of argumentative people at the moment, but I just want to say I think that you're great, and I appreciate the candid way you answer people.

Just a quick question, you said Taash's rivaini route had a lot of bullshit? I've just beaten the game for the first time and that was the route I chose so I was wondering if you could elaborate?

Thank you!

Disclaimer: A lot of this is written from a personal place. In no way am I trying to discredit anyone who feels differently. That even includes Trick Weekes, when it comes to the gender stuff at least. And please keep hatred of Taash out of this post; as I say in the end, I do still really enjoy Taash as a character!

The player first meets Taash when still identifying as a woman. However, Taash soon comes to realize they are not a woman; they are non-binary. While most of this answer will be quite critical of Taash’s story, there are positives I would like to acknowledge first. For example, I do think that the dialogue options surrounding the acceptance of Taash’s gender is fairly good. I like that you can be encouraging but not pushy about them exploring their identity further, when the topic first comes up. If you play as a non-binary character yourself, you are able to relate to Taash on a personal level, and provide them with a sense of kinship outside that which they seek from the Shadow Dragons, (who apparently double as both abolitionists and queer support group?) The game makes it clear that Taash’s gender is not just player-reactive; if the player chooses to avoid Taash’s personal questline, Taash still later on announces they are non-binary and use they/them pronouns now, with a game notification letting you know they went and embraced that with the help of Neve and Harding. And while some people have criticized the use of terms like non-binary as “not being fantasy enough” for their tastes, I personally think it’s perfectly fine to be overt like that, instead of dancing around the topic. I saw a post on a recommended Facebook page from some cis person who said they learned a lot about gender diversity because the game went out of the way to be so blatantly inclusive. Yes, there are a moments I can agree are kind of cringe, but lord knows there’s plenty of cringe in other regards as well with the writing, so it’s not like it’s exclusive to Taash’s gender writing. Overall, I think it’s a good exploration about someone stepping outside of a binary view of gender, except for one glaring problem: It is so very, very, white.

Trick Weekes, Taash’s writer, is non-binary themself, but they are also a settler living in the colonial project known as Canada. And that has very clearly influenced their perspective on how they think gender and culture works. With Taash’s writing for the Rivaini route, Weekes paints a picture that their gender journey must come at the sacrifice of their cultural identity, as if the two must be distinctive, separate things. What’s worse, is how binary the cultural identity aspect to Taash’s story is; ironic for a character who is supposed to be about stepping outside a box like that!

Not once, not twice, but three times, Rook is forced to choose to convince Taash if they should be Rivaini or Qunari. The first time, there is an option to say “why not both?” But that option is not present the second or third time the dialogue prompt comes up. The one that hurt me the most is when Taash is clearly having a breakdown over who they want to be vs. who they were raised to be, and the only way to try and console them is to make them pick a singular thing to identify as.

I also think it was a hugely missed opportunity, in choosing to have a bunch of Tevinter humans be Taash’s only source of learning about gender diversity. We know from codex entries that they talk to the Shadow Dragons about that topic, but apparently no one else? Why not have Taash consult a Rivaini Seer for advice, or hell, how about adding more qunari characters who aren’t just standard brutes to mash buttons against in a fight? So, in limiting the scope of this knowledge to just Tevinter humans, Taash is only getting more reinforcement that gender comes before any other cultural identity.

As a Two-Spirit person, I cannot stress enough that gender and culture do not exist in two separate vacuums. They can overlap and/or can be essentially under the same umbrella. So, when Weekes writes about Taash struggling with cultural identity and gender identity at the same time, I can understand that feeling so well. But I cannot understand the written approach Weekes takes. The message I received was “your gender is more important than your culture.” Which again, I must stress is such a white colonial idea of queerness.

I do really like Taash despite these shortcomings from Weekes, though. Just like how I really like Sera despite Kristjanson’s bullshit in Inquisition. I’m not about to hate on a character just because there are certain parts of their writing that I think should have been handled better, when there are more parts that are really fun about Taash. They are so refreshingly autistic-coded in a way that doesn’t punish them for being so, for example.

[heliosunny]

Bidding for trouble - 1.5

Yandere!Sugilite x Assistant!Reader

You weren’t sure what was worse: the overwhelming workload in Topaz’s department or Sugilite’s dramatic morning interruptions.

Honestly, it was a close call.

When you were first temporarily reassigned to help out Topaz’s team, you thought it wouldn’t be that bad. Sure, they were short-staffed, and sure, they had piles of work that somehow never ended, but at least you wouldn’t have to deal with Sugilite’s unpredictable schemes for a while.

Or so you thought.

Because apparently, he had other plans.

And now, every morning without fail, he showed up at Topaz’s office like a VIP customer filing a complaint.

Morning Ritual – Day One

You were barely halfway through your first cup of coffee when a familiar voice rang out across the department.

“Ah, there you are!” Sugilite said smoothly, stepping into the office like he owned the place. “I was beginning to think you’d disappeared for good.”

You sighed, setting down your paperwork. “Good morning to you too, Boss.”

Topaz looked up from her desk, visibly unimpressed. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

Sugilite smiled. “I am working. I’m here to check on my most valuable employee.”

You gave him a flat look. “It’s literally my first day here.”

“Exactly. You’ve been away too long.”

Topaz pinched the bridge of her nose. “If you’re not here to invest in something, get out.”

Sugilite ignored her entirely, turning back to you with an easy grin. “So, how’s the transfer treating you? Boring without me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Surprisingly peaceful.”

His smile dropped slightly.

“Is that so?” he mused, voice light, but there was a familiar edge to it. The kind that said I don’t like that answer.

You pretended not to notice.

Sugilite sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Well, don’t get too comfortable. You’re coming back the second this little favor is over.”

Topaz crossed her arms. “If we still need them, I might keep them a bit longer.”

You could feel Sugilite’s sharp gaze shift toward her.…Okay. Time to intervene before someone loses a contract.

You grabbed your pen, waving it slightly. “Boss, I’ll be back before you know it. You’ll survive.”

Sugilite’s eyes flickered toward you.

And then—just like that, the usual grin returned.

“Of course” he said, stepping back. “Just don’t forget where you belong.”

With that, he finally left.

Topaz let out an exasperated sigh. “That man is impossible.”

You just picked up your coffee again.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “Tell me about it.”

Morning Ritual – Day Five

By now, everyone in the department knew the drill.

Every morning, like clockwork, Sugilite arrived.

Some days, he’d bring coffee. Other days, he’d make questionable investment offers just to get a reaction out of Topaz. Every day, he found some excuse to linger. And every day, you pretended not to be amused.

But you weren’t blind.

The way his gaze lingered whenever he saw you working. The way his mood soured whenever you got too comfortable here.

He didn’t like you being anywhere but his department.

And honestly?

You weren’t sure if that was endearing or concerning.

Either way, it wasn’t your problem to deal with.

Day Seven – The Last Morning Visit

By this point, Sugilite’s daily intrusions had become something of a department-wide joke.

The moment he strolled in that morning, coffee in one hand, confident smirk in place, you heard two employees in the back whispering.

“Oh, look. Here comes the morning check-in.”

“Boss withdrawal is crazy.”

“He really can’t survive without Y/n, huh?”

You pretended not to hear them.

Sugilite, on the other hand, definitely heard them.

But instead of denying it, he grinned.

“Good to see my reputation is intact” he mused, setting a coffee cup down in front of you like some kind of tribute.

You raised an eyebrow. “If this is bribery, it’s working.”

He let out a mock gasp. “You wound me. This is a generous display of my affections. A rare privilege.”

Topaz, from across the room, snorted. “What’s rare is you actually doing your job instead of harassing my department.”

Sugilite completely ignored her.

Instead, he leaned against your desk, watching you take a sip of the coffee he brought. “Good?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but I feel like I should be suspicious.”

“Why?” His smirk widened. “Do you think I poisoned it?”

“At this point?” You exhaled. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Topaz laughed.

Sugilite?

He looked far too pleased.

“That’s the spirit” he said, straightening up. “Keep that paranoia. It’ll keep you alive when you come back.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” He tilted his head innocently. “Your little vacation here is over. Topaz doesn’t need you anymore.”

You slowly turned to Topaz. “Is this true?”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Unfortunately.”

Sugilite clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Let’s go.”

Before you could even protest, he had already started herding you toward the door like a prized possession he was finally reclaiming.

“Hold on, at least let me pack up my stuff—”

“No need,” he interrupted smoothly. “Everything’s already waiting back at your desk. We’ll consider this a seamless transition.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did.” He smiled like he hadn’t just admitted to orchestrating your entire return.

Topaz shook her head. “I should’ve fought harder to keep you.”

Sugilite laughed. “Nice try, but Y/n is mine.”

The way he said it—casual, teasing, but firm enough to leave no room for argument—sent a weird little shiver down your spine.

But you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little flattering.

Back in Your Department – Sugilite’s Perspective

As soon as you were back at your desk, Sugilite stretched out his arms and sighed dramatically.

“Ahh. Finally. Order is restored.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re acting like I was gone for months.”

“That’s what it felt like.”

“You still saw me every morning.”

“Not the same.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He grinned. “And you’re back where you belong. Now hurry up and finish your work before I find a new reason to cut your salary.”

You groaned.

Yep.

Everything was back to normal.

[heretherebedork]

The Penultimate Heart Killers Vibe Check!

Are y'all ready for episode 11?

Look at this fascinating preview for this episode and the many, many questions I have about what the actual fuck in going on but will have no answers until tonight no matter what I do. Just look at all of them being desperate but happy and in love and exceedingly gentle despite everything.

Kant and Bison. I... am running out of things to say about them. Everything is forgiven, they've both opened up (apparently) and there are no more issues. Everyone is just on the same side, no more secrets (I guess) and now everyone wants the same revenge. They're on the same page and, well, that's where we are.

Fadel and Style are coming off the most emotional scene in the show, confronting grief and loss and love afterwards and I look forward to seeing them together in the light and dark again, the way they give each other the world they need and see each other as they are, wholly and truly. Can't wait!

And then we have this. Whatever this is gonna be. The matching hugs, the cops between the two snitches, something is gonna happen and something is gonna be true and something is going to simply be with this and it's got vibes all over the place including 'why the fuck is the cop topless' but that's neither here nor there.

[dimonds456-art]

Ford looked bad. Plain and simple. Both his eyes were bloodshot- though one was FAR worse than the other-, eyebags hikers would be jealous of, pale skin, shaky hands, stubble and tangles, along with the occasional spot of blood on his clothes or the many bandages that covered his hands made him look as though he were seconds away from collapsing.

Which, apparently, he was.

Stan froze. Yes, partly because of the crossbow, but mostly because he suddenly wanted nothing more than to run away. He'd wanted to see his brother again for so long, and now here he was- the next poor soul scheduled to be lead away into a calm, dark afterlife. One Stan wouldn't be able to follow him to, not really.

Ford was shaking, the crossbow making little rattles as he gave Stan a good look over. "Who are you?" he demanded. He sounded angry, but the shaking gave away what he was really masking.

Oh, shit, right, the hood.

Now see, real life Grim Reapers didn't really do the long black cloak and scythe thing, but they did have dark clothes that covered most of their bodies. For Stan, he was wearing a thin, black hoodie, long sleeves, thin gloves, loose pants, and boots. He held no real weapon, just coming as himself. He wouldn't need one, anyhow.

Stan cleared his throat, hoping that would help him re-find his voice after he'd suddenly lost it. Script. Just stick to the script. "Fear not, For- Stanford Pines," he stumbled, "I am not here to harm you."

If I can even do this in the first place.

Ford's expression melted into one of distrustful confusion. "Well you look very ominous for someone who wishes me no ill will." He yanked the crossbow back up, straightening it to point right between where Stan's eyes would be, if Ford could see them. "Are you with Bill?! Answer me now!"

Uh.

Stan cleared his throat again. "I... know not of this 'Bill' you speak of." He spoke slowly, but very unevenly. This whole old-timey pretentious way of speaking was stupid. (Apparently they only still did it to show humans that they were, indeed, a variant of the undead. Because of all things THAT was what gave it away. Somehow.)

"I don't believe you." Ford took a step closer, shoving the crossbow bolt towards Stan's face. "Let me see your eyes!"

"My eyes?" For a moment, Stan broke character in genuine confusion. What on Earth was his brother going on about?

Ford took another step closer, making Stan back up, else the bolt physically hit him. "The sign clearly says 'no trespassing'! So either you're a minion of Bill Cipher, or you're trespassing on private property, and either way I have more than plenty of reasons to shoot you right now where you stand!"

"Moses, Ford, calm down!" Stan lifted his hands up in front of him on instinct, still backing away. "Who the hell is- I mean, I know not of who you- no." Stan threw his head back exasperatedly. "You know what? Screw it." He raised his hands up and threw off the hood.

Ford froze, bloodshot eyes widening. "St... Stanley?"

Stan gave him as easy-going of a smile as he could manage, given the situation. "What's up, Sixer?"

Without warning, Ford reached forward to grab at his jacket, then yelped as his hands phased through nothing. He stumbled forward, Stan dodging out of the way, not wanting to accidentally touch Ford himself. He watched with a wince as Ford ate shit in the snow.

"Yeesh. Sorry 'bout that."

Ford whipped around, glaring at him with distrust again. "Wh... what the devil was that?!" He flung a hand out at Stan as if it were his fault he didn't have a physical form anymore. "Are you even real?!"

"Okay, first off, ouch." Stan rolled his eyes, then crossed his arms, looking away. "Was gonna tell you in the monologue, but y' interrupted me, so."

Ford blinked, then ran his eyes back down Stan's outfit again. He continued to stare, mouth working soundlessly.

Stan huffed. "I can smell the smoke comin' out yer ears."

Ford looked back up at him, expression wide with... something. Probably nothing. "The mailbox said you were dead," he murmured.

"Oh, that." Mailbox? Whatever. "Yeah, uh, I'm not really dead-dead, I just uhh, got a new job, s'all." He closed his eyes with a grin. "I'm literally Death, Sixer. And I, uhh..." he turned away, wincing. "...The soul that lives in this house needs to come with me."

Ford's eyes flicked down, before his entire frame hardened. "No... no! I won't let you!" He re-brandished the crossbow, pointing it at Stan. "I'm not ready yet! I still have to find a way to hide my last journal, and figure out how to change my eye color at will!"

What?

Stan shrank in on himself a little bit. "Yeah, I figured," he grumbled. "Boss says this is a pre-empty- eptive- epl- preventative kill." Fuck his stupid tongue sometimes. "Said that if someone didn't take you now, you'd just," he took a breath, "suffer more until dying a real painful death."

Stan heard Ford's breath catch in his throat. "What does that mean?"

"I dunno, genius, you tell me." Stan shot him a look. "The hell have you gotten yourself into that a grim reaper got sent to your place to take ya before things get even worse than they already are? D'ya know how much suffering an order like that needs before it's issued?"

"I'm fine." Ford started backing up towards his house again. "My health does not matter so long as Cipher can't access the portal."

Stan took in a long, deep breath, then blew it back out, slowly. "Ford." He let his head drop again, meeting his brother's eyes. "I have no idea what the hell you're goin' on about."

"The inter-dimensional portal," Ford re-stated, which magically explained everything. He continued to back up, up the steps now, towards the door. "If you're not going to help me defend my home, then you need to go. And I'm not going with you." A dark look crossed over his face. "I'm not ready. Not until I can ensure the world's safety."

Then he shut the door, Stan listening as three separate locks clicked into place quickly. As if that would really do anything to prevent his entry.

Instead of barreling directly inside again, Stan took a moment to process all of that. Ford had been talking over his head for the most part, but it seemed like he was in some deep shit. A portal? Journals? Defending this creepy shack? Sure. Seemed like he'd let a monster loose in the woods or something.

And what the hell kinda name was Bill Cipher? Sounded like a fake name if Stan had ever heard one.

He ran a hand down his face. He had a choice now. He could either go in and help Ford with his would-be unfinished business, he could go take his soul by force (which would hurt Ford in the process, so hell no to THAT one), or he could just... leave. He'd have to explain to his boss why he hadn't collected the soul, and he wasn't sure what would happen from there, but he could just leave Ford to deal with his own shit.

But, this order was a preemptive kill. Preventative. It was supposed to be a painless release from some kind of deep, heavy suffering. Like torture n' shit.

Leaving Ford to experience the worst of it, only to die a slow, painful death alone was never on the table, either. There never really was a choice for Stan.

So, he took a deep breath, and phased through the door. He had to find Ford and convince him to let him help, somehow. And maybe get an explanation as to what the fuck was going on.

Then he was gonna kick Bill Cipher's ass, whoever he was. And he could make it as painful as whatever he was going to do to Ford.

When Stanley had been given the job he wasn't sure if they were serious but...well...a job comes with money or something right? Maybe he should've asked what they were paying him with-

"You want me to what?" He asked the looming dark figure

"Be Death" it said

"Be deaf? What- why?" Shocker was they meant Death, apparently Stan had been living like a dead person so that made him perfect for the job.

Not that he liked it but it did give him some sense of purpose... A comfort in his chest that perhaps all the things he messed up, had broken or destroyed on accident was simply this fate of being Death manifesting.

At least that's what he told himself as he knocked on a door of some wooden shack. He could feel the soul of whoever was beyond the door and, while he is able to guide sound into the afterlife, he has permission to try help those who are yet to lay their heads for enternal slumber.

"Who is it?! Have you come to take my eyes?!" Well, he wasn't expecting his twin dying to see him (literal, unfortunately)

[figgyblossom]

.

[skyward-floored]

Hey what are your thoughts on the groups from the latest update btw?? 👁️👁️

- hero-of-the-wolf

They’re really interesting!!! Some of them were pretty unexpected, but I’m excited to see how they all unfold.

I made a post about this already but Time putting Sky with Twilight was so smart of him. Sky is the best swordsman and best equipped to take care of the Shadow if he shows up, and I’m sure Time is remembering how Dink was actually running away from the Master Sword in shady escape. Dark Link is really unlikely to mess with Twilight with Sky there, and I appreciate how Time figured that out so well. I’m also curious about what kind of conversations they’ll have without Time or the others around, I’m betting the Master Sword will come up again 👀

Legend and Hyrule seems like an odd group, and Time even mentioned he regretted that he had to put such experienced people together, but aside from boomerang shenanigans it actually kind of makes sense. Legend is okay-ish with teamwork, but Hyrule seems like he’s allergic to it. Putting them together will hopefully make them realize it’s not a solo mission this time, and they’ve got to rely on each other’s instincts and knowledge. Plus downfall duooooo I can’t wait to see what they get up too AAAH

Warriors pointedly chose Wild to go with him. Obviously he’s finally going to follow through with his earlier statement from Sunset pt.5:

—and Wild (and Wind lol) knows it.

(I love Wind’s little “oooohhhh you’re in trouuuuble)

There’s been a lot of discussion about how Warriors is going to lecture Wild, and I personally think he’s going to be firm, but not mean. He’s not going to blow up at Wild, that’s not his style (unless Wild argues back and Warriors roses to the bait, but I don’t... think that’ll happen). I think he mostly just wants Wild to understand what was—and is—at stake.

Warriors is military. You follow orders in the military. When you don’t follow orders, you get yourself and others killed. You have to rely on your fellow soldiers and your plan of attack, you can’t just run off by yourself and deviate from the plan and Warriors knows that. He went through something similar on his adventure, he got cocky and thought he was invincible, started disregarding anyone except for himself. He nearly died because of it, and in this instance, Wild could have died because he was blinded by his emotion and risked being injured just as badly as Twilight.

It’s not exactly the same, but I’m sure Warriors is looking at this and going “well crap that’s me”. So I think he’s going to give Wild a quick “here’s what you did wrong and don’t do it again because I’m trying to keep us all alive and you’re making that difficult so try and listen to orders so we can accomplish our mission here???” lecture. And I’d bet good money ol’ Dink is going to interrupt him partway through because he’s out for both Warriors AND Wild now for multiple reasons and they’re totally doomed :D

Aaaaand Time Wind and Four. I think they’ll be really fun to follow, I can’t wait to see more of Four and Wind together especially. Maybe they’ll FINALLY NOTICE EACH OTHERS’ SHIELDS and put together maybe being related. I’m hoping. I’m hoping so bad. I’m also eager to see Time and Wind interact some more (yay!) and also Time and Four because we haven’t seen a lot of them together yet. Maybe even some realizations that Four comes before Time..? Maybe. We’ll see. I bet Four will have to shrink for a puzzle though.

So yeah I’m really excited to see how things are going to go :D

[incorrectskyrimquotes]

hello ive been bedridden for like three days now so i was messing around w this picrew, here r some ideas for my other doomed prisoners (the protagonists of the other mainline games)

Talyn, The Eternal Champion

Izath, The Agent

my Nerevarine, who is not yet named bc i cant think of anything and is just "Nera" wherever i mention them in my own notes and im probably getting attached to that as a name

Cornelia, Hero of Kvatch

[the-library-of-forgotten-endings]

do you have a favorite mirror world/id of yours? a least favorite? (or if you want to just talk about your favorite, as the muse, feel free.)

Ans: My favourite would be my tingtang id. Sinclair and I dance together, apparently, ahaha~!

any id you'd think would be fun to have personally?

Ans: I *really* wanted a Cinq id to match with sinclair, but Dante couldn't extract it... hmph, I wanted to duel alongside with him in battle...

what your favorite/least favorite abnormality that you've either seen or faced in battle?

Ans: Well, they all kill you the same, don't they? But if I had to pick, maybe Pink Shoes, because it's the cutest~ oh, and blubbering toad as my least favourite, it got water all over my hair

would you say you're particularly close to anyone in your branch? is there anyone you'd like to get closer to?

Ans: I'm closest to Sinclair, but I'd like to get closer, teehee~

on the contrary, anyone you particularly don't get along with? anyone you can't really stand?

Ans: ...Heathcliff. I still haven't forgiven him for what he did to Sinclair. Better watch your back, heath~ ❤

why did you join the company? if you don't mind disclosing.

Ans: Well, I didn't have anywhere else to go.

what experiences do you believe make you a good fit for the company? or, do you even believe you are a good fit for the company?

Ans: I don't know, I'm not used to this sort of grunt work... I guess determination~? You'd have to ask faust or something.

do you think you've changed from the person you were when you first got hired? in what ways?

Ans: Well, I met Sinclair, so I've definitely changed! <3

if you could resign from the company, would you? (not that you can, just curious what you'd answer if you had a choice in the matter.)

Ans: I wouldn't resign and leave sinclair alone, but if he resigned...? Hm...

in general, what do you think of your job here? do you like it?

Ans: It's fun~ Kinda violent, and it's really gross getting blood and guts on myself all the time, but I got to meet sinclair, so it's not all bad

anything you particularly dislike about the company?

Ans: Why is everything so obtuse? Surely there's no need to be so secretive. Faust, if you're reading this, do try and open up

what would you consider to be your own "weaknesses"?

Ans: Well... I guess I'm the type to not see what's coming until it's too late.

which do you find more appealing: working on your own, or working with others?

Ans: That's a toughie~ Both solo and group performances can be equally captivating. But... I think a stage is less lonely when there's other people with you, no matter who they are

how would you describe yourself in a single sentence?

Ans: The best, most talented idol~★!

what do you think about your home district? anything you liked there?

Ans: ...Don't ask me that question again.

favorite dinner place? what's your favorite thing on the menu there?

Ans: My favourite is naan and lamb curry... hahh, i could go for a plate right now.

would you rather fight 1 horse-sized duck or 100 duck-sized horses?

Ans: A horse sized duck can't be any more dangerous than an abnormality, right...? I'll pick that, then.

heard we're having a company potluck soon. what are you planning on bringing? (if… you're bringing anything. you can admit you don't have anything. it's alright.)

Ans: Samosas, because they're tasty and I don't think anybody else would have trouble eating them.

i give you the classic trolley problem. what's your answer?

Ans: Which trolley is sinclair on?

what do you do in your free time? (whenever you have it, that is.)

Ans: Mostly practicing my dance and vocal routines. Talent takes work!

OC - Rambha, Sinner number 13 (Weapon: गाना)

LCB interview(esque) questions

[ note: these questions were made with Limbus Company OCs in mind, but technically these could be for any OCs ]

[ meant to be answered in character, as if answering questions from an interview. you can twist the questions to be 3rd person if you wish, however ]

do you have a favorite mirror world/id of yours? a least favorite? (or if you want to just talk about your favorite, as the muse, feel free.)

any id you'd think would be fun to have personally?

what your favorite/least favorite abnormality that you've either seen or faced in battle?

would you say you're particularly close to anyone in your branch? is there anyone you'd like to get closer to?

on the contrary, anyone you particularly don't get along with? anyone you can't really stand?

why did you join the company? if you don't mind disclosing.

what experiences do you believe make you a good fit for the company? or, do you even believe you are a good fit for the company?

do you think you've changed from the person you were when you first got hired? in what ways?

if you could resign from the company, would you? (not that you can, just curious what you'd answer if you had a choice in the matter.)

in general, what do you think of your job here? do you like it?

anything you particularly dislike about the company?

what would you consider to be your own "weaknesses"?

which do you find more appealing: working on your own, or working with others?

how would you describe yourself in a single sentence?

what do you think about your home district? anything you liked there?

favorite dinner place? what's your favorite thing on the menu there?

would you rather fight 1 horse-sized duck or 100 duck-sized horses?

heard we're having a company potluck soon. what are you planning on bringing? (if… you're bringing anything. you can admit you don't have anything. it's alright.)

i give you the classic trolley problem. what's your answer?

what do you do in your free time? (whenever you have it, that is.)

[ divider credit ]

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I know that people are rarely their best selves at a funeral, but do you ever just watch your family move through the process of mourning the Patriarch and have a sudden and violent and vivid understanding of Why Everyone Is The Way They Are

[xxplastic-cubexx]

this cliff took more lives than i could on my own im losing it

[tennessoui]

girl your hanahaki au is absolutely wrecking my shit i--- I don't ever read ongoing fics and this is why. I just cannot wait?!? But the waiting somehow makes it better too?!? I'm literally dead bro I can't I love it so much

hahah omg thank you !! I’m really happy to hear you took a chance on this wip and that you like it so much!

not to get on my soapbox or anything but you have given me a great corner to shout from

as a disclaimer I totally understand why people will choose not to read wips and I truly think you know your mental health and what you can stand to wonder about/think about/obsess over/NEED to know a conclusion for better than anyone else

BUT as a writer who almost exclusively posts in wips, people reading them before they’re finished is my life blood and I am so grateful and it makes the writing process so much more fun for me because I know at least someone else is invested in my brainworm of a story?? someone else is enjoying it and thinking about it and I’m putting a small amount of good into the world??

the best analogy I’ve been able to come up with is like:

when you read a finished fic you’re eating a whole meal and that’s great that’s so amazing (especially if you tell the cook you liked it after you’re done). and you’re literally always welcome to eat that meal whenever you want. finished fics are like standing dinner invitations: I am always happy to have you and I mean that very genuinely

but if you read a wip, you’re keeping me company in the kitchen while I cook. and that’s sort of priceless. in some instances, you can even tell me the food needs more spice and I’ll think about it and listen!!! you’re sitting on my kitchen counter as I bustle around my space and we’re talking about what I’m doing and also how I’m feeling and maybe how you’re feeling and it just feels like community more than anything else I’ve experienced in any fandom. like you’re with me in my space as I’m creating food I hope you like. we’re both invested and it’s amazing

and I think in general that’s why wips are a lot of fun and also maybe why the waiting between chapters is fun for you - you’ve suggested that I add paprika to the pot and you’re waiting and wondering if I will, and I’m laughing and hoping you like the soup either way but also wondering if paprika will work with the recipe, and if I can add a bit to it just for you while staying true to the dish I envisioned at the get go.

[dandelion-wings]

for whumptober: jean or lisa for “magic with a cost”? thank you!!

Thank you for the prompt! :> I was going to just go with Lisa because I've done less whump for her, but somewhere along the development process I went, "why not both?" Which made twisting Lisa's arm (c.f. yesterday's post) that extra bit harder, but it was fun to do! I hope you enjoy it too.

---

ETA: Now on AO3.

---

Even an illustrious member of the Hexenzirkel can make mistakes at times.

Lisa hadn't been thrilled when Alice co-opted the doors to the restricted section to install a passage to her Theater Lobby. The guests passing in and out of the library are not always quiet, and it makes entering the actual restricted section *much* more difficult. The one advantage is that now, everyone who's poked and prodded her over the years as to what may be down there now believes that it was Alice's little play-place the whole time. Only a handful of people know otherwise.

Unfortunately, the restricted section doesn't just hold books. Not everything there has dealt well with having such strong, otherworldly magic nearby, and Alice... well, Lisa has long known that Alice doesn't bother to cleanly seal her spells. Klee isn't a patch on her mother when it comes to collateral damage.

Though that seems a bit too understated a term for what they're looking at.

"What *is* it?" Jean asks, her voice hushed with horror. "Something of the Abyss?"

"No," Lisa tells her. "I'm not impressed with the Hexenzirkel right now, but I must admit they're very good about keeping Abyssal influences out of any space they decide to meddle with. They would never take the easy way out when making a new domain."

Not that Jean likely knows that partitioning off a space where the leylines touch the more malleable space of the Abyss *is* the easiest way to make a domain. Jean isn't here for her expertise, but because she had been the first one Klee had found to report that there was "something funny" behind the door. In the real space behind the door, not Alice's portal.

Jean is also the only other person currently present in Mondstadt who's actually allowed into the restricted section, or to know what everything in it *is*. She, like Varka, has a general understanding of the tomes and artifacts kept here; unlike Varka, she's put effort into learning which ones are most dangerous and why instead of just asking Lisa to keep an eye on them all. Lisa can sure she's trying desperately to match this sprawling mass, glittering tendrils of elemental energy creeping out of the room it's in to dig into the walls and floor and ceiling, with her own mental inventory of the place.

For her own part, Lisa feels almost preternaturally calm. When they had rounded the corner and seen this glittering maelstrom bulging out of the room it had been in, door torn down and mostly subsumed into the mass--it is, after all, mostly Dendro--she had been terrified for one hot, awful second, the taste of metal all down her throat. Lisa can't think of any better way to have a Nail hammered into the city than to let an unauthorized branch of Irminsul, laden with the forbidden knowledge concealed beneath the Ordo, arise within its walls.

Then she had remembered Jean behind her, and Klee waiting anxiously up in the library, and Sucrose in the lab next door, and Noelle dusting upstairs. All the knights in and around this building. All the people of Mondstadt, going calmly about their daily lives. That was when the calm had fallen. She doesn't know how long it will last, but she'll make every second count.

"*This* actually comes from one of the restricted books themselves. The Lawrences collected many books about magic in their attempts to more and more strictly control Mondstadt. A few thought they could somehow become the next Decarabian. But, well, when you're collecting books about foul magics, sometimes the book *is* the foul magic. This one was written in elementally-charged ink on paper woven in part out of Petrified Trees. Which is a very foolish thing to do. All you need is some resin... which I'm sure Alice used in her own work."

"So when Alice designed her Theater, there was enough resin in it for this to revitalize? Like a tree in a Domain?" Jean asks.

"Yes," Lisa says, proud as she would be of any student making a connection between what they've been told and what they already know, "very good. Not in the same way, of course. But once it woke, it started to take root and seek for leylines. That takes elemental energy, so it's consuming all it can from the environment. You can see how it's going after the Geo in the walls now. There was Dendro in the other books in there, so I suppose they've all been lost."

She sighs in regret. The knowledge they'd held might not have been forbidden, but there was a reason the Librarians of the Ordo had spent generations keeping those books hidden underground, safe from Celestia's gaze. What was in there might have had value, someday, in helping defend Mondstadt against threats the gods would rather they not even know exist.

"All right." Jean's voice is stronger now that she feels she has a handle on the situation. "What can we do about it?"

Her eyes shadowed with worry, but her hand flexes with eager impatience on her sword's hilt. Through the fear and false calm, Lisa almost smiles. Of course it was *'we'*, even though Jean has no idea what she faces or what to do. She won't abandon this to Lisa's expertise.

Perhaps it's unfair to let Jean participate, young and unknowing as she is. Lisa knows what taking control of this situation will cost anyone involved in it. She has paid that fee before, for a much more foolish cause. It would be kinder to tell Jean to step aside and tell her there's nothing she, unskilled in magic, could do. Jean is full of the kind of potential that Lisa has long since burnt out; isn't it waste to risk burning that, too, when Lisa could in theory bear the full cost? But she's too selfish to refuse.

"We'll need a seal. A very strong one. Luckily, that's something I'm very good at. Unluckily... making it will be very dangerous for us both."

Two years of helping Cyrus seal Hermanubis, over and over, until it stopped breaking through to overwhelm Cyno and he could develop his own control. She'd done a great deal of research in those two years. Along with all the other learning she'd been doing at the Akademiya, of course.

She had left her notes for them when she left the Akademiya, and Cyrus and Cyno far surpass her now. But this thing is taking root far too fast. There's no time to send for either. There's only what Lisa knows, from all that research and from one painful trial, about containing anything that feeds on elemental energy. It has to be blocked off before it *does* reach the leylines. There are no emergent outcroppings in the city, or close around it, thank Barbatos (quite literally, Lisa suspects), but if the roots continue to lengthen, they'll eventually reach deeper flows.

"What will we need?" Jean asks, as if Lisa hadn't said a word about danger. She's so charmingly reliable in moments like these.

"That adorable book Alice gave Klee as her catalyst," Lisa tells her, not without regret. "And two more catalysts from the armory. If we have a copy of the 'Skyward Atlas', I would prefer that, but I know we have copies of 'Sacrificial Fragments' and 'The Widsith,' and both of those would work. I already have my Favonius Codex," she adds tapping the familiar tome, passed down from one Ordo Librarian to another over the centuries.

It, like Klee's book, will be a shame to sacrifice, but she's written out copies of what it contains, just as her predecessors have before her. Those are locked away down here too. Binding a new copy in the requisite metals for magical channeling is simple enough.

Jean nods, salutes her, and turns to rush back up the hall to the stairs.

That leaves Lisa to begin designing the seal. This is going to have to be a strong one. *Very* strong, to lock this would-be leyline tree in. Fortunately, it doesn't have to literally encompass the sprouting mess in front of her; it just needs to do so symbolically. Otherwise, Cyno would have had to stand in the middle of a seal diagram for most of his childhood. Such seals rely on the caster's will to give that symbol force.

Will, and magical energy. If Lisa was relying on her Vision, that would be enough for this--the elemental strength she can bring to bear with it, reinforced in this case by Celestia's magic locking the energy that flows through Visions into a rigid and obedient course, would do the job, though it might cost her Vision to do so. That's a price Lisa, ambivalent about that very power, would be willing to pay alone. But an elementally-fueled seal would only serve as more sustenance for this sprout. This one has to rely on another source.

Very little magic in the modern era doesn't rely on the elements. Even when scholars speak of "old techniques," they're talking about herbalism, which still involves the elemental affinities of certain plants, or tapping the leylines, which remains an occasional if dangerous recourse for those without Visions but had been much more common before the Cataclysm. But there are even older techniques from before the establishment of the Thrones, some still practiced in various cultures under the guise of traditional healing, or martial arts, or superstitious rituals, that draw on another source entirely.

Her own lifeforce isn't a price Lisa *wishes* to pay. Neither if Jean's, whether or not she's willing--which of course she is, as a Gunnhildr, even if she doesn't fully understand the danger Lisa had mentioned. The danger Lisa isn't willing to explain, too close to old memory, too likely to rouse the fear that she's barely holding back.

Lisa draws her seal slowly, carefully, refusing to let that fear, however bitter in her throat, impede her work. She does use her Vision to crack two blocks in the walls, creating niches where she can set the catalysts she'll use as anchor-points. Her Codex she goes ahead and sets on the floor beneath one niche before drawing the appropriate lines around it.

Sumeran seals tend to use threes, Liyue prefers sevens, and Inazuma likes fives. Khaenri'ah was emphatically locked into pairs, and Fontaine has a terrible, unstable tendency to use just one anchor-point that Lisa hopes will change now that it's nearly wiped them out. Mondstadt doesn't have a sealing tradition in the first place as far as the Akademiya is concerned, but Lisa knows better. What else are the Four Winds and their Temples?

"I have them," Jean says, appearing behind her with her arms full of books.

The armory did have a Skyward Atlas; Lisa places it above the Codex, and Klee's book in the other niche. She hesitates between the small stack of copies of Sacrificial Fragments (ones Lisa had very precisely copied herself, each blurred and illegible line, while demanding exact replicas from Wagner for the binding) and the single copy of The Widsth before choosing one of the first. It may matter that it's in her own hand.

"It's growing fast," Jean says, audibly unnerved.

Lisa had been deliberately keeping her eyes averted as she worked. Now she looks. The tendrils have grown thicker, plunging deep into the stone--not breaking it, but absorbing it as they go. The door is gone, and the mass is taking on the distinct shape of a trunk. There are at least three questing taproots.

"We'll take care of *that*," Lisa tells her. She reaches up to undo her Vision from her throat, passing it back to Jean. "Our Visions will only get in the way. Set them by the exit, please. Mine will reinforce the wards on that door nicely, just in case."

She feels naked without her Vision. Even with all her suspicions about what it is, what it means, the cost of using it, it's still a part of her, and a well-worn and familiar tool. Which is why she can't risk drawing upon it in a panic.

Facing the burgeoning growth before her, Lisa breathes in deeply, tasting more bile bitter and metallic in her throat. By the time Jean returns, she has the shape of what they need in her mind.

"We need to extend this seal to encompass the whole root, and block it off," Lisa tells her, and holds out her hand. "Put your right hand within the circle on the wall, and your right foot within that one on the floor. Good." Lisa follows suit on the left. "Now, look with your Elemental Sight. Can you see the seal?"

"The square closing off the hall? It has no elemental signature...."

"If it hadn't already started eating the walls and Albedo wasn't up on Dragonspine, Geo might have worked. Though with that much Dendro, I doubt it. The technique we're using does have a physical cost," Lisa adds, because it wouldn't be fair not to warn her. "We both may end up incapacitated, or worse, when it's over, but we have to put up with it until the end unless we want this to go *very* badly."

Jean squares her shoulders and straightens her spine. "If that is so, place as much of the burden onto me as you can. I am the better suited. Though I mean no offense."

The fond affection that warms Lisa at that so-characteristic declaration is tinged with guilt. "None taken, cutie. Now, focus on the right-hand corners of the square, and imagine them pushing outward, into the corners of a box. Try to do so as you imagine the dandelions of your breeze," she adds, aware of Jean's personal mnemonics, "so that it will manifest in your Sight."

Jean nods and sets her jaw, and Lisa feels the seal start to shift. Lisa has to moderate her own efforts to match Jean's pace and not deform the spell. Already Lisa can feel energy starting to siphon out of her, a gradual lethargy like an afternoon slump, not yet the torrent she knows will come.

The far corners of the box slide past the trunk, laying out the dimensions of a boundary not yet formed. "Stop," Lisa says, and Jean stops pushing, holding steady, maintaining position with a warrior's rather than a mage's discipline. It's good enough. "Now the walls of the box. This will be the hard part. That tree is aware enough to resist."

"We won't let it pass," Jean vows.

Already, the tendrils are reaching further, closer to the intended boundary. "Jean, *now.*"

Walls shimmer into existence in their Elemental Sight. For a moment they simply glow, clear and white, not yet fully solid, but drawing more and more strength. Lisa blinks against the growing lethargy of it. Then a creeping tendril brushes against one forming barrier.

Confused, curious, more tendrils react out, seeking along the boundaries of its confinement for a way through. They pause for a considering moment as they determine there is none. And then the roots *erupt*.

The tendrils lash against the barrier of the seal, and Lisa hears Jean cry out. Her side holds steady, though, even against such onslaught. Lisa's waver as she feels her skin ripping open, as if she herself had borne the lash. She gasps, tasting iron, and steadies them by force of will.

"This will harden them," she manages to say, "but it will get worse," and then she starts to recite the verbal seal.

More tendrils slam against the walls of the box, and more open welts bloom with them. Lisa's voice falters. Ripples appear, on her side, where the tendrils rake the seal.

She can feel Jean reaching out within their joint working, the visualization that's far closer to what Jean has trained in before, and take hold of Lisa's half of the box. Taking more of the burden, as she'd asked. With guilty relief, Lisa lets the brunt of that go and focuses on the chant.

Her fingertips and toes are beginning to tingle. Fatigue, not merely lethargy, creeps into her bones. Jean's fingers tighten on hers in a way that suggests she can feel the numbness, too, while welts continue to split her flesh. Lisa adjusts her grip to hold her wrist. They can't lose this connection.

The walls are holding strong by the force of a Gunnhildr's will. Word by word, Lisa hardens them further. They begin to take solid form, almost, *almost* visible without Sight as well as through it. The tendrils beat harder against them, those three thick taproots trying to bore through. Jean sets her jaw, only a low moan escaping through gritted teeth. Her breath hitches, then steadies.

Under Lisa's tingling fingertips, her pulse hitches, too. Hitches, steadies, then hitches again, beating too-fast and uneven, fluttering and frantic with more than just the palpitations of fear and fatigue. Lisa tastes iron again, and this time the terror isn't for herself.

"Jean, let go," she says, between verses of the chant. "I can finish this alone."

Jean's grip tightens around her wrist. "I will not fall before this is done."

Lisa feels the walls soften and takes up another round of the spell, but she dares a sideways look at Jean as she does. She's white-faced where her cheeks haven't cracked bloodily open, and her lips are going blue. The clumsiness of her grip says that the numbness must be all through her hands, and she has the wide-legged stance of the unsteady.

She is the stronger of them, it's true. Physically, she has more stamina. But she runs close to her limits all the time, no days at peace, no time to recover. Lisa hoards her strength and barely ever expends it. She has more reserves than Jean has endurance.

Twisting her arm free, she slams her elbow into Jean, pushing her backwards. Jean stumbles, crying out in fear and horror as her foot leaves its circle, and her hand slips from the niche. Lisa steps into them, spread-eagle, and seizes all four points of the seal.

For a moment the box's corners weaken. Sensing weakness, the tendrils lash out again. Lisa feels her skin split, raw and red, and doesn't try to hold back her scream. Then she launches shakily back into the spell. One more chorus--two more, maybe, with the interruption--and it *will* take permanent form.

Numbness crawls up her arms, up her legs, tingling at her joints and beginning to tighten her scalp and turn her face to rubber. It's worse than the welts, though at least she can't feel them in the spots where it touches. The fatigue crushes downward; she can feel the drop through her body as it tries to crash into unconsciousness, jerks her head up against it, and feels her heart hammer with adrenaline as fear and fury buy her the time to recite the last line of the last round of the spell.

The Skyward Atlas and Klee's Dodoco Tales are gone from beneath her hands, the Favonius Codex and Sacrificial Fragments no longer at her feet. Barriers shimmer into place between the eight anchor-points of a Hypostasis-perfect cube. The tendrils flail wildly and the remaining chunks of wall within the box melt into pure Geo, the sprout consuming the last dregs of elemental energy it can touch. Then, its taproots having failed to set, it starts to dissolve.

"Give it a few hours, and we can take that back down. Though we'll have to do something about that hole it's left behind," Lisa says, and then the drop hits again and this time takes her with it, right into Jean's arms.

She's only fully out for a moment, though she's groggy and fuzzy-headed as Jean hauls her up to the section door, lays her down, and summons up a breeze from her Vision. The scent of dandelions revives her. The open welts still burn, tender and raw, but the breeze has at least stopped their bleeding. Her limbs and face and scalp are still numb.

As are Jean's. Lisa can see her, breathing steadily and easily now, pinching her own fingers. "Is this permanent?" she asks with all the worry of a knight who depends upon her body's skills.

"No, cutie," Lisa assures her, heady enough with relief to give her an indulgent smile. "It may last a few weeks, though, so you'll just have to take a break until it fades." She tries to reach out and take Jean's pulse, but she can't feel it, either; she'll have to trust in the color coming back to her face, and insist they follow up with Barbara as soon as they're able to leave. "I do mean you'll *have to*. If you don't rest and recover now, you may pay for it for the rest of your life. I have some experience on the subject."

"You do? That would explain.... Is this why you're so often tired?" Jean looks at her with too-keen eyes.

Lisa smiles up at her. "One of the reasons. Don't worry, Jean. The last time I did something like this, I was all alone. There's much less risk when working together."

"I am grateful you allowed me to take it on at your side, for so long as I could," Jean says, reaching out to clumsily grasp Lisa's hand.

She squeezes it, the pressure dull and distant through layers of nerveless skin. Lisa squeezes back as best she can.

"I couldn't have done it without you," Lisa tells her, and feels the truth of that, the relief of that, humming in her chest.

[green-blue-heller]

You know what i think was unhinged. Jensen seriously, not jokingly, stating that he and danneel are gonna fix misha’s 50th birthday. Like. Sure, a friend can plan that. BUT not without asking. Like, jensen just outright said that he and danneel will fix that and for misha not to think about it. They are family. They are his closest family. They are a constant part of his life. No questions. No ”do you want to spend that with us?”. Nope. Just of course you will. Just there. Always.

Oh god… yes.

But like, at first, Jensen is saying he’s going to put something together and start planning for something.

Then they’re both go, “Danneel will plan it.”

Like. Yes. They are family. They love each other. There’s no doubt that it should be Jensen and Danneel planning his 50th birthday.

🥹🥰