#they cannot see it themselves but their love for each other keeps the other going!!!!
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venomwrites · 3 days ago
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Warnings: Spoilers
Her mail is full of threats. 
It’s sorted for safety, but then it winds up on her table. Pain filled accusation. She should have died instead, how the blade should have gone to her neck not her eye. Jinx should have killed her. How could she do what she did. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. She reads about people’s loved ones who sacrificed themselves. Sometimes people give their names. Most of the time they don���t. 
Caitlyn reads them all. 
She learns about people’s families. Friends. Their darkest desires. How they would kill her. She drinks the poison with her remaining eye. When it starts to throb she uses the drops the doctor gave her and keeps reading. She got these people killed. She can at least know them. When they name themselves she adds them to the list. She makes sure they get their dispensations from the funds and repairs are seen to. Piltover will take care of all its citizens. She will make sure of that. 
After an hour the threats start to bled together but she pushes past it as best she can. She cannot let these people’s pain blend together like that. They deserve so much more, but she can give them that at least. She is about to take a break when the violent blue ink peaks out at her. 
Everything goes still as she extracts the card. 
She doesn’t recognize the place on the front. Somewhere with mountains capped in snow. The card is bordered in yellow. On the front someone has harshly crossed out bright letters. They peak through the ink. WISH YOU WERE HERE. Caitlyn turns the card back to the side with the blue lettering. 
SHE BETTER BE EATING. 
Caitlyn nearly drops the card. There’s no return address. Hers is ‘the big kiramman house’ with nothing underneath it. There isn’t even a stamp. The handwriting is more precise than anything she’s seen from the bloody nailed girl. It’s like a child practicing their letters. Maybe that’s exactly what it is. 
Caitlyn lets out a breath. It’s plausible, they never found a body. Something occurs to Caitlyn and she begins to sort through the letters. Silently she apologizes to every one she pushes aside. She will come back to them. But her mail is delayed. There’s too much of it to sort through daily. So maybe—
Another flash of blue. 
A cityscape this time with strange, alien buildings. 
Wish you were (NOT) here.
TRY HUMMING TO HER IF SHE CAN’T SLEEP
Pink, this time pink. A river with grey animals hopping merrily by. The sun is setting. No wishes decorate the front. 
SHE HATES THE DARK
Blue ink with a blue card. An endless sky dotted with airships. Two figures have been drawn on the front, holding hands in one. 
SWEETS ARE HER FAVORITE
The last is a pink one to go with a wide red desert. Puffy blue clouds dot the sky. Instead of a message there’s a chart. A family tree. Vi’s name is connected to hers with a long line. 
She traces the line with her finger and feels the indent carved into the bottom. The others all have it too. Each card has a secret. She grabs a pencil and drags it lightly along the bottom, adding graphite to the ridges and revealing the words. 
REMIND 
HER
I’M 
ALWAYS 
THERE
Caitlyn’s throat tightens. Jinx doesn’t ask her not to tell. Caitlyn is eternally grateful. They both know she can’t do that but it would feel wrong somehow to go against a request like that. Jinx has sent her the cards. Caitlyn can imagine her thinking this was the right decision. A clean break. She thought she was doing the right thing. 
Vi is curled up in her bed. Caitlyn wishes she could have made it her bed under any other circumstances. She’s seen Vi sleep for weeks, bleed out, cry until she vomits—all in this bed. Every time Caitlyn sees her in it she wants to scream. Wants to drag her out of this room and to her bed. Where things were better, where things made sense. But Vi just curls tighter and ignores her when she tries to speak. 
It’s anything but a clean break. 
“Vi,” she says, announcing herself to the lump in the bed. Vi’s shoulders stiffen which is as much of a reaction as Caitlyn gets from her these days, “these came for me,” she continues, “I think you should read them.”
Vi turns away in refusal towards the darkness of the room. She’s got the curtains on one side of the bed closed. It lets in light and gives people access, but it also sends the clear message she doesn’t want to be bothered. All one would have to do is open the curtains on the other side. No-one dares. Caitlyn perches on the side of the bed. 
Caitlyn is not a music person. 
She has no idea what to hum. 
But she does. 
Grey eyes miserably turn towards her as Caitlyn tries to remember anything resembling a tune. Her parents tried to make her take music lessons but she was never good at them. Still she forces herself to keep going as skepticism seems to cut through even Vi’s stupor. Vi’s lips are pulled into a frown as she stares at her, slowly easing from her side to her back. The most life Caitlyn has seen in her. 
“That was awful, Cupcake,” Vi mumbles, “if I read those will you never do that again?”
Caitlyn could care less as she nods and hands the cards to Vi. She pulls the first one from her bad hand, turns it over and bolts upright so fast it’s a miracle their heads don’t smack together. Vi shoves herself fully into the light. 
“Where—“
“They arrived in the past week,” Caitlyn says, “I brought them as soon as I saw.” 
Vi shuffles through them five times, turning each card over like she is missing something. Caitlyn is not expecting it when she throws off the sheet and gets to her feet. She kneels down and spreads the cards out, looking at them again like she must be missing something. Caitlyn eases herself down next to her. 
“She’s alive,” Vi says numbly, “she’s alive and she’s—“ she shakes her head, “she said she was breaking the cycle. Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” Caitlyn says. 
“Can you find out?!” Vi demands. After having her be so still and quiet, the angry shout catches Caitlyn off guards, “this could be a copycat.”
“Yes,” Caitlyn says slowly, “but I don’t think it is,” she motions to the hidden message, “she knew I would find that.” 
Vi shudders as she stares at the cards. Caitlyn has never felt this useless in her entire life. She’s used to making things happen. But here she’s failing on all accounts. Only Jinx has been able to pull Vi out of her stupor. Caitlyn has tried and failed so many times. She looks at the graphite boxes. Her fingers pick up the one with the airship and her features twist. 
“She said she was going to break the cycle,” Vi says, “how is this breaking the cycle?!” She smacks her good hand on the floor, “Cait where is she?!” 
Her voice breaks desperately around the last word. Great, heaving sobs wrack her frame. Caitlyn just manages to get her so she doesn’t land on her shoulder when she crumples forward. She takes the post card out of her grip and laces their fingers together as Vi wails at the loss. It’s a cruel thing that Vi’s ghosts never stay dead. She never looses someone once. Caitlyn thought she knew grief when she buried her mother. But the wound has started to heal. Every time Vi gets a bit of healing, the wound is wrenched back open. 
Caitlyn wants to promise they will find her, but she doesn’t know if that’s possible. They could date the cards, find the locations, but she knows Jinx will not be there. She will slip away again and the wound in Vi’s chest will rip open all over again. Vi is strong, so strong. But Caitlyn doesn’t know how many times she can bear this loss. Vi’s existed for weeks on nothing more than broth and nutrients. Her muscles are weak. She should not have this kind of strength. But she keeps sobbing. She sounds more like an animal than a person as she wails into Caitlyn’s embrace. 
Caitlyn just folds herself around her, pushing the cards to the side so they won’t get damaged. 
She expects Vi to go listless again. She knows she must be exhausted. But Vi pulls herself up painfully and wipes uselessly at her face. Most of her weight leans on Caitlyn. Caitlyn doesn’t care, she would bear all of Vi’s weight if she let her. She reaches out and touches the underside of Vi’s eye. The tears she wipes are immediately replaced but for a moment Vi leans into her palm. 
“She loves you,” Caitlyn says, “this is her wanting you to make a life of your own.”
“I can’t do that without her,” Vi says, her voice wretched, “Cait she’s my sister.”
“I know,” Caitlyn says, “I know this isn’t fair to you,” the words are messy and she cannot find the right ones, “maybe one day she’ll see that,” she tries, “but she wants you to let her go.”
Vi looks like she is going to sob again, but there are no more tears left. Caitlyn sees the white knuckled fist she’s making in her lap. A stubborn refusal to follow Jinx’s request. Caitlyn goes on instinct and covers Vi’s hand. Vi makes a noise but doesn’t try to stop her as she pulls her fingers open and slots their hands together. 
“Hold onto me,” she says. 
Vi gives her the same gutted look. Caitlyn knows this isn’t fair. She’s put them in this position how many times. Me or Jinx. Choose. Despite her words in the cell she knows Jinx is woven into Vi’s heart. Maybe in some world there is no choice forced upon Vi. Maybe in some world this all works out differently. But here and now Jinx has taken the choice. She’s made it for them. 
Vi lets out a harsh sound between a sob and a moan. But her fingers tighten on Caitlyn’s hand. 
Caitlyn kisses the back of her knuckles and guides Vi’s arm over her shoulder. It’s a familiar position. No matter the wounds. Something goes automatic in Vi and she gets her feet under her as Caitlyn stands up. Vi looks down at the cards. It hasn’t been that long, the cards all arrived differently. If they are to be believed, Jinx has seen so many places already. Places she doubts anyone in the Undercity has gone. 
“She wanted to see the world,” Vi says. 
“She is,” Caitlyn assures her. 
“I—“ Vi tightens her grip, “maybe you should just get the postcards for now,” Caitlyn looks at her, “will you tell me when you do?” 
“Of course,” Caitlyn says, “the moment they arrive.”
Vi looks at her silently and then gives a jerky nod. 
“Could you help me to the shower?” She asks finally. 
Caitlyn smiles and nods. 
The cards continue sporadically. Sometimes months will go by without them. Sometimes several arrive in a week. Caitlyn tells the Enforcers sorting her mail they are not a threat and should be given to her immediately. It’s difficult because sometimes copycats send blue letters, but Caitlyn learns the difference fairly quickly. Vi puts each one into a box before she cries over them. She treasures them, the only proof her sister is alive somewhere. 
Until the box arrives.
For the first time it’s not addressed to Caitlyn. 
“This is a bad idea,” the Enforcer says, “there’s gears in there—“
“Thank you,” Caitlyn tells him, “it’s alright.”
Vi goes stiff when she sees the unopened box. Her eyes widen when she realizes its addressed to her. She rips out a knife and cuts through the packaging before Caitlyn can mention what the scans have shown. There’s a dull click and fine glitter explodes from the box. Caitlyn is very glad she’s wearing her eyepatch as it coats everything in pink and blue. Vi looks back into the box, reaches in and pulls out an envelope. Inside there’s a blue gem and a card. Vi fingers the gem and offers Caitlyn the card. A smile is already pulling at her lips. 
She turns the card over to see familiar mountains. This time the sentiment on front hasn’t been crossed out. It’s been underlined several times. Caitlyn looks at the back. On it is a bunch of numbers. After a moment she realizes its coordinates and a date range.  
It’s an invitation. 
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anim-ttrpgs · 3 days ago
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Thing From Beyond Player Character Rules in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy
Eureka has six playable "monster" types, and about ten total supernatural character options all together. Each supernatural trait is taken basically as if it is a normal trait like the ones you have been seeing us post. You cannot give a character more than one supernatural trait--and from what you are about to read, you probably wouldn't want to. Playing monsters is recommended for "advanced" players only, people who like a lot of "crunch" in their games, as require you to keep track of a lot more mechanics than playing a normal human.
Here is the Thing from Beyond Trait. This is going under a Read More because it's long as hell but we really hope that you will check it out and comment. This is, like, the whole entire ruleset for playing a thing from beyond in Eureka. This one might be the longest, it definitely has the most sidebars, because it's a wholly original creature rather than something recognizable from western folklore or pop-culture.
Thing from Beyond (Monster Trait)
Despite being inspired by many horror concepts from around the 20th century, this is the most wholly original monster in Eureka’s lineup, and requires a lot more explanation up front. Throughout the rules text for the thing from beyond, they will be referred to as “TFBs” in the interest of page space.[1]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] A thing from beyond is very unlikely to call themselves a “thing from beyond.” They don’t know where they’re from, it could be anywhere. 
[1.1. Off to the side in the final formatting] How lonely it must be to not even have a name for what you are. 
[Snoop: A regular snoop with the two shapes that make up his or her trench-coat opening up to reveal sharp teeth and tentacles.]
A TFB was never human, but maybe they are now. Their “true form” is a large, flat blanket of membranous flesh that is smooth and skin-like on one side, and ever-so-slightly damp and mouth-like on the other side. The skin side is capable of changing color and texture to a high degree of detail, not unlike that of a cuttlefish. The mouth side is also capable of color-changing but to a lesser degree. Their only bones are dozens and dozens of sharp teeth. Unlike any transformation of, say, the wolfman or a fairy or witch, a TFB is not actually changing in any “magical” way, rather just disguising the same body to superficially appear more like a human.[1]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] This also presents certain challenges in writing the rules text for them.
Despite not arriving on flying saucers or having anything to do with little green men, a TFB is an alien beast, from places or dimensions entirely unknown to modern science.
They are highly adaptive mimics which typically lock on to a single prey species as their primary source of food from a young age, imitating either things the prey species finds non-threatening, or the prey species itself. Their metabolism is unique, capable of not only absorbing nutrients, but DNA and even intact neurological information which can be integrated into their own equivalent of a brain. They not only consume their prey, but their prey’s memories as well. In the wild, this helps them to better and more consciously mimic their prey species — on earth, when consuming humans, it has the unintended side effect of causing them to develop sapience.
TFBs start to think like their prey, and a TFB which has been eating humans will start to think much like a human. Their desires become human desires, their needs become human needs, such purpose, belonging, and love.
To this end, TFBs - or at least the ones who are valid to be investigators - will fold their flat body into a humanoid form, color and texture their outer skin appropriately, and attempt to participate in human society.
The consciousness and sapience of a TFB, alien neurology influenced by human neurology, can manifest in a number of different ways.[1][2] After the first few victims, these senses of self tend to be fixed, and a TFB will not experience a change from one to the other, absolutely not mid-adventure. Despite the frequent intake of new memories and DNA, their personalities are only marginally less fixed than human personalities.[3]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] These are not exhaustive or prescriptive options, just suggestions to help you in developing your TFB investigator.
[2 off to the side in the final formatting] A TFB’s memories of their animal-like intelligence before developing sapience are often fuzzy at best.
[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] But how set in stone are human personalities?
Gestalt Composite:[2] After their first few human meals, their mind may form as a distinct and original personality, a gestalt composite of those minds that they have digested, which is not significantly influenced by the personality traits of their latest meal,[3] at least not much more than a regular personality is influenced by human interaction. TFBs who develop like this will truly be outsiders to society, learning what they can about how to exhibit normal human behavior through fragments of digested memories and asking lots of unusual questions.[1]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] This conscious sapient mind will not fit the same template and mental framework of the average human mind, but neither do those of many natural-born humans.
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] As the most common of the three, the majority of sidebars referring to the thought processes of TFBs in this section will be in reference to this kind of TFB consciousness.
[3 off to the side in the final formatting] “I’ve been thinking about Alan Rickman a lot all of the sudden.”
First Victim: They may “become” their first victim, the victim seeming to wake after a horrifying ambush in an unfamiliar, alien body that nevertheless they have some instinctual control of. Once devoured, they are now the TFB. Future victims will not override the base memories of their previous life. A TFB like this will obviously already have some grasp on societal conventions, their journey being more about adapting to what they are now than adapting to what they aren’t.
Both: They may develop something like a combination of the above two possibilities, with a gestalt composite personality formed out of multiple victims, but also a single early victim rising to the surface among them. These two minds share one body, and often communicate with each other by speaking out loud. In partnerships like these, each will be adapting to their new life and to each other.[1]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] While having one player play both investigators sharing this body is perfectly easy, this opens up some other interesting options as well, such as two players sharing the character and character sheet, one for the human and one for the alien. One of these could also be an NPC handled by the Narrator. If “one” investigator is being played by two players, you may even represent this with two separate character sheets, and track Investigation Points and Eureka! Points separately, just so long as they share HP.
Unfurled State
The Unfurled state is the default, natural state of the TFB. A large, flat body that slithers along the ground.[1][2][3][4]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] They may be circular, oval-shaped, star-shaped, square-shaped with rounded corners, or none of the above.
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Size ranges from around 7x9 square feet to around 12x14 square feet, sometimes larger if they eat a lot.
[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] Look up marine flatworms to get a sense of how they move when unfurled.
[4 off to the side in the final formatting] They are, thankfully, not slimy.
Suction Grip
While unfurled, a TFB can slither on walls and even on ceilings just about as easily as though they were floors.
Flat Body
While unfurled, a TFB can compress themselves enough to squeeze through any gap greater than about two inches wide.
No Hands
While unfurled, the TFB has no human hands, and thus cannot interface with complex devices such as firearms, vehicles, etc. The TFB does have two or more long, thin tendrils attached to their mouth side but these can only manipulate the most basic of devices such as simple tools. They cannot use weapons or make regular melee attacks at all in this form. For how a TFB can fight in this state, see p.xx “Homoiophage (Thing From Beyond True Nature)”.
No Speech
While unfurled, the TFB has no human mouth and cannot produce any human speech or in fact any vocal sound at all.[1]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] However, since they can change the color of their skin at will, it is not out of the question that they could display images or even words on their skin to communicate with humans. If this is done with use of a Charm, Comfort, Manipulate, or Seduce roll, apply a -2 penalty to the roll, at least when it makes sense to do so. Rolls towards a character who knows and is comfortable with the TFB in this state may not include those penalties.
All Muscle
While unfurled, apply a +3 Base bonus to the TFB’s Athletics for anything except Speed calculation. They are, however, not considered to have Superhuman Strength in the same way many other supernatural creatures do.
Disguised
Despite this not being their default state, a TFB will likely spend most of their time during the investigation - and any social interaction[1] - disguised as a normal human. They do this by stretching, compressing, and origami-ing their flat bodies into the shape of a human, with their “mouth” side on the inside, and then coloring and texturing their outer skin to appear like human skin, clothing, and other features.[2][3] Going from Disguised to Unfurled is effortless, but going from Unfurled to Disguised takes one Movement if time is measured in Turns and also requires a non-skill supernatural ability Composure roll. Most TFBs will have a specific human persona whom they disguise as regularly, and it is this persona which has a social life, a job, a bank account, etc. [maybe that art by dame can go here?]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Unless their human friends are very cool about hanging out with a man-eating blanket of flesh.
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Getting false clothing to appear to hang correctly off of their disguise takes a lot of practice. They could fold into the shape of a naked human and then put real clothes over that, but most TFBs find wearing more than the slightest amount of real fabric uncomfortable and restrictive.
[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] Human hair is another highly difficult element for a TFB to mimic. Some TFBs may opt to mimic the shape and texture of human hair with their own skin and rely on nobody looking too closely or being rude enough to point this out, others may wear wigs, embody exclusively bald personas, or put all that DNA they’ve absorbed to use and grow out real human hair.
[3.1   off to the side in the final formatting] Some TFBs have thick clusters of little feelers they can use to represent hair. 
[3.2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Elbows are particularly hard to get right as well.
While disguised, consider a TFB to be able to do anything a human could do, including speak and manipulate devices, however, this is quite a contortion act for the them, leading to mild discomfort and the outward appearance of a general lack of coordination.[1] Apply a -1 penalty to all Physical skills when a TFB is disguised.
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] For the TFB, moving a body meant for slithering around on imitation legs using their imitation hands for things would be sort of like a human using their feet to complete daily tasks while walking on their hands. It can be achieved with practice, but isn’t intuitive. This struggle will often manifest early on as difficulty just walking upright, and then comes the challenge of not applying too much or too little grip strength with their hands, and moving each finger independently without making it look obvious that there’s no bones or joints inside.
[1.1. Off to the side in the final formatting] TFBs may use humans’ bodies in their stomachs to practice. If a motion locks out or breaks a joint, they know what not to do.
When disguised as a human, the TFB’s mannerisms will always appear somewhat off, though it will be hard for anyone to put their finger on exactly how. Apply a -1 penalty to all Charm, Comfort, Manipulate, and Seduce rolls made in this form while the TFB is within sight of the target. This penalty can be ignored if the roll is directed towards someone who knows and trusts the TFB, and is aware that they are a TFB. 
A TFB can also disguise themselves as virtually anything of sufficient size, such as furniture or animals, not just humans, but this rulebook will not be statting out every object and animal in the world. If you feel unique stats are needed for a specific shape, then use your best judgment. Disguising as inanimate objects will typically be a Stealth check.[1]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] An intoxicated TFB may “loosen up” and have trouble holding their disguise together, literally. They may also get the colors wrong.
Disguising as Specific People
TFB’s have endless practice taking on their specific human persona that most people know them by, and can disguise as random fake people with no distinct identity just as easily, but disguising as a specific individual other than their main persona is another story.
A TFB can disguise themselves to look like any particular human they have gotten a good up-close look at. When the TFB is attempting to study a person, roll Social Cues.[1] This attempt can be repeated once per Scene to aim for a higher degree of success, so long as the thing from beyond can get an up-close look at the person they want to imitate. Add +1 Base to this roll for each type of DNA sample from the target they have consumed. (See p.xx “DNA Sample Types”.) If they have consumed the whole person within the same adventure, this roll is automatically a Full Success. Unless the TFB is able to study the human in-person or look at full-body photographs or videos taken from multiple angles, they can at most achieve a Partial Success on this roll.[2][3]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] “You have such a lovely face. Do you mind if I borrow it for tonight?"
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] In some cases, it may be a good idea for the Narrator to make this roll hidden from the players, as the TFB will not be able to confirm the effectiveness of their mimicry without putting it to the test.
[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] A TFB may be very proud of how much detail they can replicate the human form with, but have no one to brag to.
Full Success: From this point on, the TFB can perfectly disguise themselves as the human they are studying, down to all the fine details. Not even the human’s friends and family could tell the difference. This does not mean, however, that no one will notice if they act out-of-character.
Partial Success: From this point on, the TFB can approximately disguise themselves as the human they are studying. The disguise may fool people from a distance, but upon examination, anyone who knows the human in question could easily realize that this is not them with a Full Success or a Partial Success on a Senses or Social Cues roll. They may also be noticed if they act out-of-character.
Failure: The TFB cannot seem to get anything right about the person they are disguising themselves as, and no one will buy the disguise. Best case, people will just think it is someone else who kinda looks like the person in question. 
Mimicking Specific Voices
A TFB can imitate human vocal cords and tongue on the inside of their human disguise, pushing air past them and through an opening in their folds they’ve made to look like a mouth, creating convincing human speech. Like with a visual disguise, making up a random voice is no issue. Typically, they will just use the voice they’ve decided on for their human persona for everything, but with a bit of effort they can alter these features to mimic any specific human voice and speech patterns that they have clearly heard and studied.
When the TFB is attempting to study a person’s voice, roll Senses.[2] This attempt can be repeated once per Scene to aim for a higher degree of success, so long as the TFB can listen to the voice they are attempting to learn to mimic. Add +1 Base to this roll for each type of DNA sample from the target they have consumed. (See p.xx “DNA Sample Types”.) If they have consumed the whole person within the same adventure, this roll is automatically a Full Success. Unless they are able to listen to the voice in-person or hear a very high-quality recording for at least 1 Tick and a large variety of different sentences, they can at most achieve a Partial Success on this roll.[1]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Like with disguising, this can actually be done for virtually any sound, not just a human voice.
[2. off to the side in the final formatting] The Senses and Social Cues rolls are intended to be separate.
Full Success: From this point on, the TFB can perfectly mimic the voice of the human they are studying, down to all the fine details of their speech patterns. Not even the human’s friends and family could tell the difference. This does not mean, however, that no one will notice if they act out-of-character. 
Partial Success: From this point on, the TFB can approximately mimic the voice of the human they are studying. When making any Interpersonal roll that relies on mimicry of the voice in question, apply a -2 penalty to the roll. 
Failure: The TFB cannot seem to get anything right about the voice they are attempting to mimic. Best case, people will just think it is someone doing a bad impression of the voice in question. When making any interpersonal roll that relies on mimicry of the voice in question, apply a -4 penalty to the roll. 
Mimicry from DNA Sample Alone
A TFB can also attempt to mimic the look or voice of a particular person based only on consuming a sample of their DNA but never having seen or heard them. When doing so, the Narrator makes a hidden 2D6 roll with a -3 modifier, and does *not* add the TFB’s Skill modifier. Add a +1 to this roll for each separate type of sample of the target’s DNA the TFB consumes. See the above results for the possible outcomes. The Narrator will not reveal the result of the dice, so there will be no way to know how accurate the mimicry is.[1]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] TFBs *are* what they eat. Over time, a TFB may come to conceptualize their tendrils as human fingers, their skin as human skin, their teeth as human teeth, their enormous mouth as a human mouth, they just have to remember not to yawn with it.
[maybe get the dame TFB tendril heart image to go here]
DNA Sample Types
For the purposes of this mechanic, the types of DNA samples a TFB can consume are considered blood, other bodily fluid, fingernails, hair, skin, bone, muscle, and organ.[1] Any sample must be more than a microscopic amount.
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] So, a severed finger would be considered muscle, skin, bone, nail, and possibly blood if it’s fresh enough, totaling to a +4 Base to the roll. It would not contain enough hair to count as a hair sample.
The Ancillary
A TFB has a body part referred to as an “ancillary.” The ancillary appears as a five-foot-long off-white worm-like creature with six other shorter worm-like tentacles splitting off from the core body. For all intents and purposes, the ancillary is the same “character” as the main body of the TFB, and uses the main body’s base stats and traits (with its own set of base bonuses and penalties explained below), though it is capable of acting entirely independently, and will have its own independent place in a turn order when time is measured in Turns. The ancillary cannot make any Interpersonal Skill checks. 
It is normally flatly embedded in the “mouth” side of the TFB, but can be ejected and taken back in at will.[1]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] The main purpose, evolutionarily, of the ancillary is to scout out and ensnare prey for the main body to then come and devour, but a TFB investigator isn’t exactly in their original evolutionary niche either, and probably had an app for that now.
The ancillary can squeeze through gaps as narrow as one inch wide, breathe in both air and water, and climb on sheer surfaces, but cannot change color, manipulate devices more complex than perhaps a button, use weapons, or make any sort of communication.
There is a mental connection between the ancillary and the main body, meaning the main body knows anything the ancillary knows, but the ancillary does not know much because its senses are extremely rudimentary. Apply a -2 penalty to all Investigative Rolls made by the ancillary, and all Senses rolls made by it. The mental connection cannot be maintained outside of a distance of 100 yards, and if the connection is broken, the ancillary will shrivel and die. The TFB may choose to terminate the connection deliberately and kill the ancillary at any time, such as to prevent its capture and study.
The Ancillary and Composure and Combat
The ancillary has 2 of each type of HP. For the purposes of Composure rolls, anything that happens to the ancillary happens to the main body. For example, the TFB must make a relevant Composure roll if the ancillary takes damage. If the ancillary dies, the TFB must make a Death Composure roll. If the ancillary’s death results from a severing of the mental connection, the Death Composure roll is made with a comforting factor because the TFB is not experiencing the death as clearly.
If the ancillary is destroyed or otherwise lost rather than being returned to the main body, the TFB will grow the ancillary back as if it were a missing body part.
The ancillary is powerful for its size, and fairly thin and hard to damage. Add a +1 Base bonus to all of its Athletics, Close Combat rolls, +2 Contextual to its Stealth rolls, and apply a -1 penalty to any attack directed towards it.[1]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] The +3 Base to Athletics that the Unfurled TFB gets does not apply to the ancillary, nor do any other bonuses or penalties from the main body. 
Attacking with the Ancillary
The only forms of attack available to the ancillary are Grab and Hold. This Hold may be escalated to Submission.
Provided that the TFB is not wearing body armor, the ancillary may be launched from the main body up to a range of 10 feet when ejected, hitting a target in range only on a Full Success with an Athletics roll. This counts as 1 Action. If the launched ancillary hits the target, it may immediately take its Turn. Otherwise, it acts at the end of the current Round’s turn order.
General Abilities
Beyond this point, these rules will apply to both the TFB’s unfurled state and disguised state, unless otherwise specified.
Invertebrate
TFBs are largely ambivalent about which way any part of their body bends. Apply a +3 Contextual bonus to any Escape attempts. If the TFB has a human occupying their stomach, they lose this bonus unless they first make a successful Crunching attempt (see p.xx “Crunching”). A TFB also will not take any damage from being put into a Submission Hold.
Blunt objects, as well as crushing weights, can only deal Superficial Damage to the TFB.[2] Additionally, damage from falls is halved.[1]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] The damage from falls is halved both by the Redundant Body Structure and by the rule above, meaning they take 25% damage from falling.
[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Due to being flat and boneless, or flat, boneless, and hollow when in the shape of a human, TFBs are soft and squishy unless they have a human skeleton inside them. Enough pressure could flatten them whether folded or unfolded, only for them to spring right back!
All Eyes
The entire “skin” side of the TFB is covered in photoreceptors, making it impossible for them to be snuck up on from “behind.” They don’t even have an actual “behind,” they see in all directions at all times.[1] TFBs see entirely differently from humans with their whole body being one big photoreceptor.
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] A Disguised thing from beyond may also be able to see details of the environment that their human disguise’s “eyes” could not, such as an audio recorder stuck under a desk below eye-level. They see it from their disguise’s “feet.”
TFBs see entirely differently from humans with their whole body being one big photoreceptor. They cannot benefit from magnifying scopes attached to firearms, or anything of the sort such as binoculars. Additionally, there is no way for them to shield their photoreceptors from bright light unless they want to cover the entire body.
Natural Camouflage
The TFB’s “skin” side can alter its colors–and texture–down to the slightest detail, much like a cuttlefish. This is part of how they mimic human skin and clothing. This grants them a +4 Base bonus to Stealth when Disguised, a +5 Base bonus to Stealth when Unfurled, and a +10 Base bonus to Stealth when Unfurled and flattened against a surface, at least if they choose to change their color to blend into the environment. If time is being measured in Turns, this takes 1 Movement. The “mouth” side of the TFB is also capable of changing colors, but instead of being nearly instantaneous, changing the colors of this side takes at least 1 Action if time is being measured in Turns.[1]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Laying flat on a surface with the ‘mouth’ side up is extremely useful for lying in ambush for prey to walk over the thing from beyond and then snapping them up, though it would render them largely blind. 
[1.1. off to the side in the final formatting] Be wary of new carpets.
All-Purpose Gills
The TFB has the ability to absorb oxygen from both air and water. 
Prey Fear Response Suppression
Within a radius of about ten feet, the TFB influences the human mind through an energy field it produces. This field is tailored to the TFB’s preferred prey species, which in the case of any TFB investigator will be humans. This field exerts a calming effect over the human mind, suppressing the electrochemical signals that cause negative emotions such as fear and anger, intended to make them less likely to look for the small tells that could help give the predator away. Add a +1 Contextual bonus to all Comfort and Composure rolls made by anyone else within this field, and subtract a -1 penalty from all Reflexes, Senses, and Threaten rolls made by anyone else within this field. This ability is “on” by default, and can only be switched “off” on a per-Scene basis with use of a non-skill supernatural ability Composure roll.[1]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Many people may not appreciate this if they learn about it, but it is hard to stay mad when the signals which create “mad” in your brain are being blocked. 
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] When “on,” this strong field will be easily detected by an EMF reader.
Exposure to this field over a long period of time can alter the memories of humans. Technically, the humans are unconsciously altering the memories themselves, because long-term exposure causes a disproportionately strong feeling of familiarity with the TFB in question. This feeling may cause them to misremember past events, inserting the TFB into events they were not present for. Characters will feel like they have known the thing from beyond for twice as long as they really have; one year feels like two, five years feels like ten.[1]
[1. off to the side in the final formatting] Keep in mind the TFB will not know the content of these false memories themselves, as they are not consciously inserting them into peoples’ brains. The human brain is altering these memories itself to rationalize why it feels like the TFB has been around so long.
Learning by Example
TFBs gain an additional +1 Investigation Points from any Investigative Roll that involves inquiring about the motivations and emotions of human beings on an individual or societal level, and from any Full Successes on Social Cues, whether they are Investigative Rolls or not. However, they have a -2 penalty to Social Cues.[1]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Even TFBs that are their own first victim benefit from this, because they have to learn how to make their new body move and look like a natural human.
Redundant Body Structure
The TFB’s flesh is tough and their internal body structure is almost entirely redundant. With several exceptions (extreme heat, acid, nickel; see: Crawl Away from a Hot Needle for more detail.), TFBs take half-damage from all damage sources, the only exception being HP that results from loss of Composure. If a TFB wears armor that protects against whatever is dealing the damage, this damage is halved again, for one quarter damage, rounding up. Apply a -2 modifier to attacks against the TFB from 1-damage weapons.
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] It may be smart for the TFB to use their shapeshifting and color-changing abilities to simulate more human-like wounds on their human disguise.
Healing
Regular first-aide will work on TFBs in most cases within reason, but their bodies are also capable of an incredible rate of natural healing and regeneration. TFBs automatically recover 1 point of Superficial and Penetrative HP at the beginning of every game session, and 1 point of Superficial HP at the end of each day. 
Additionally, if they took damage to either HP type during an instance of combat, they restore 1 HP of the same type as soon as the combat is resolved.
If a TFB’s Penetrative HP is full, instead of recovering Penetrative HP from any of the above rules, they recover from one Grievous Wound, permanent or not.
A TFB may spend 1 Eureka! Point to instantly recover all Superficial and Penetrative HP, and from all Grievous Wounds. This takes 1 action.
If a TFB is in their human disguise and has a “limb” severed, treat this mechanically the same way as if a normal human was missing that limb. Additionally, consider the TFB to have taken a Brain Injury Grievous Wound until they have recovered, no matter if they are Unfurled or Disguised.
Unkillable
Even when the TFB’s body appears to be torn to shreds, they are most likely just in a coma-like state while their cells gradually regenerate and their body self-repairs.[1] When reduced to 0 Penetrative HP, the TFB does “die” for all mechanics purposes and is out of the adventure same as a regular dead investigator, but may return and be played in any subsequent adventure. While in this state they cannot be healed by any kind of conventional first aid.
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] This may take days, months, or years, and may result in a much smaller TFB overall upon recovery.
[Snoop: The decapitated head of a TFB snoop that has sprouted legs like the decapitated head from The Thing and is slithering away in the other direction, while another snoop incinerates its dead body with a flamethrower.]
Revival
A TFB that has been reduced to 0 Penetrative HP and “killed” for the adventure may spend 2 Eureka! Points to revive with 1 of both types of HP, but only once a minimum of 5 Scenes have passed. A TFB may instead spend 3 Eureka! Points to revive instantly, so long as they have been “dead” for at least 1 round.
Scent Tracking
A TFB’s sense of “smell” is actually their sense of taste, picked up when air runs over their “mouth” side, but mechanically this should still be treated as a sense of smell. All of that surface area gives them a very sensitive “nose,” and they can pick up on trace elements of scents that a human would not be able to. Additionally, when they are unfurled, apply a +2 Contextual[or base? Look at other monsters] bonus to Senses rolls for smell.
Additionally, TFBs are capable of Scent Tracking. See p.xx “Scent Tracking”.
Low-Oxygen Origins
A TFB requires much less oxygen than a human. In a low or zero-oxygen environment, multiply the amount of time they can last without oxygen by 10 before they must start making Athletics rolls. When they do make Athletics rolls, the results are as follows:
Full Success: No Damage
Partial Success: 1 Superficial Damage
Failure: 2 Superficial Damage
Homoiophage (Thing from Beyond True Nature)
The TFB regains no Composure from eating normal food, but does gain Composure from sleeping. They will lose Composure as normal from skipping meals or skipping sleep. 
Flat Composure Damage from Skipping Meals = Yes
Composure restoration from Three Meals a Day  = No
Flat Composure Damage from Skipping Sleep = Yes
Composure restoration from Full Night’s Sleep = Yes
The primary food source of a TFB is whatever species they have disguised themselves as, and whatever prey species of sufficient size they first consume several of is usually what that disguise becomes. Thus, all TFBs that are valid to be player-character investigators are ones that disguise as and consume humans. The “default” appearance of some TFBs will be that of the first person they devoured, but they may “personalize” this look to make it more unique over time, either out of preference, or because they were discovered and needed a new look that wasn’t attached to any of the victim’s friends or family. TFBs who were later at developing full sapience will usually make up a persona entirely from scratch. The TFB has little if any memory of their life before taking on a human mentality.
The TFB can eat “normal” food,[1] but does not regain Composure points from doing so. The only food that restores Composure points for them is humans, the fresher the better. They have a particular fondness for brains, and this is because they not only absorb nutrition from their victims, but information encoded in their brains and DNA as well.[2][3][4]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] When the TFB eats normal food in their human disguise, it doesn’t look terribly different from when a regular human eats food, except they may struggle with foods that must be torn off with the teeth, since their human teeth are fake and made of flesh.
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] TFBs can live off of a vegetarian diet for their “normal” food, though they may struggle to digest it in large quantities, but most strongly dislike food that isn’t meat.
[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] Some TFBs avoid animal products like the plague unless they’re thoroughly cooked, and some avoid them altogether, fearing that if they eat too many rare steaks, they’ll start to become more like a cow and less like a human.
[4. Off to the side in the final formatting] Being alien creatures whose favorite food is human flesh, TFBs don’t always develop “normal” pallets in the first place, creating food combinations that would make others cringe, like putting BBQ sauce on pizza. These preferences may need to be ignored in favor of more “normal” food combinations if the TFB does not want to draw attention.
[4.1. Of course, “drawing attention” does not necessarily mean everyone will assume they’re an alien. How weird would somebody have to be before you’d question if they’re even human, and not think “what is wrong with me?”
[5. Off to the side in the final formatting] Whatever their hangups or lack thereof regarding “normal” food, a TFB can fake a more balanced diet by putting things in their mouths and spitting them out undigested later.
TFBs are built for digesting very large meals over the course of a very long time, not unlike a snake. They can subsist off of more “normal” quantities of food consumed several times daily like a human, but it is not as comfortable for them as one large meal. When eating humans, they will not restore Composure unless the human is consumed entirely at once.
TFBs also simply need more calories than humans daily. When eating normal food, a TFB can either eat three meals a day, each paid for with a -1 Wealth roll to represent the expense of a greater quantity of food, or eat all three daily meals worth of food at once with a -2 to the Wealth roll.[1][2]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] This is a -2 instead of -3 because eating it all at once is how their body is designed to handle it most efficiently.
[2 off to the side in the final formatting] They cannot choke, and could effortlessly “stretch” their human disguise’s mouth to a size large enough to allow virtually any meal past their false lips. Really though they’re just widening the gap between the folds that make up their persona’s face.
Enveloping Victims
TFBs can make two types of Grab attacks. The first is the normal mundane Grab that they can do with their “hands” while disguised. The second is an Enveloping Grab.[1]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Narrators should assume that when a TFB’s player says “Grab” they are talking about a mundane Grab and not an Enveloping Grab unless explicitly stated otherwise.
Enveloping Grab.
For the purposes of Enveloping Grab, always use the TFB’s Unfurled Athletics Modifier.
An Enveloping Grab can be done whether a TFB is Unfurled or Disguised,[1] but cannot be done while they are wearing body armor or a helmet, and a Throw cannot be made from an Enveloping Grab. For the purposes of an Enveloping Grab, always use the TFB’s Unfurled stat bonuses, regardless of whether they are starting from Unfurled or Disguised.[4] This works exactly like a regular Grab mechanically except with a few important differences. First, the Enveloping Grab can be done as a regular attack, or as a Counter-Attack. Additionally, an Enveloping Grab can be done to up to 14 targets so long as they are standing close enough together.[3] If targeting multiple targets, make only one roll for the TFB, based on the least favorable Weight Class.[2]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Though of course doing it while disguised will give away the disguise
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] What direction the TFB actually appears to be facing is irrelevant for this. TFBs have no front or back, and the whole concept is something they must get used to when assimilating into human society. An inexperienced Disguised TFB may not turn their head towards sounds or even most things they’re supposed to be looking at because they see out of their whole body, not just where their fake human eyes are.
[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] Beware, this could mean up to 14 Counter-Attacks coming back at the TFB too!
[4. Off to the side in the final formatting] Their tendrils are very useful for holding prey still while the main body moves over them.
With a successful Enveloping Grab, the TFB has begun to wrap themselves around the victim, the victim is essentially partially inside their “mouth.”[1][2][3] When a TFB has a target in an Enveloping Grab, they may either Inject Venom or progress to an Enveloping Hold.
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] The “mouth” side of the TFB is covered in many dozens of sharp teeth which help cling to the victim, and may be painful but do not do actual HP damage inherently. If for any reason the TFB wants to make their “mouth” more comfortable for the person they are wrapped around, these teeth can be made to lay completely flat.
[2 off to the side in the final formatting] The teeth on the mouth side are scattered in many seemingly random patches, the pattern of which is actually unique to each TFB.
[3 off to the side in the final formatting] The “mouth” side of a TFB is surprisingly much less slimy than one might expect. It may be described as something in between the soft flesh at the roof of a human mouth, and the dry and scratchy feel of a cat’s tongue, leaning farther towards one or the other depending on the particular TFB in question. In addition to the teeth and venomous retractable spines, most of the interior of a TFB is covered in tiny prickles that assist in clinging to prey during the envelopment process. The interior may also be described as similar to–but slightly gentler than–shark skin. 
Inject Venom
For the purposes of injecting venom, always use the TFB’s Unfurled Athletics modifier.
The TFB possesses a row of sharp retractable spines running down the center of their “mouth” side.[2] When they have a victim in an Enveloping Grab or Enveloping Hold, they may attempt to inject the victim with digestive venom by making a Athletics roll.[1][3] This is considered an attack and takes an Action. If the victim is wearing body armor, apply a -3 modifier to this roll. 
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] The TFB is completely immune to their own venom and that of other TFBs.
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] These are not the same as their regular teeth.
[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] They digest like a spider, if a spider’s cocoon was also the spider’s mouth and its stomach, and could secrete its own acid.
There’s a whole lot of spines, and the TFB can inject as many targets as they have Enveloping Grabbed or Enveloping Held using one single dose. Make a single roll for all victims, unless some victims have armor and others don’t, in which case roll those separately.
Under normal circumstances, a TFB only produces one dose of digestive venom per 24 hour period, usually when they sleep, to a maximum of 1 dose stored. Restore a TFB’s dose of venom each time they gain Composure from a Full Night’s Rest.
Full Success: The victim is injected with a dose of venom that is not only exceptionally painful but is very likely to be lethal. Applies poison (Lethal, OT: Immediate, DF: per round). There is no antidote.
Partial Success: Only a few spines manage to penetrate and properly inject venom, resulting in a dose that is less likely to kill the victim. Applies poison (Non-lethal, OT: Immediate, DF: Per Round). There is no antidote.
Failure: The TFB does not manage to get any spines in deep enough to have any effect. The dose is still spent.
If the TFB takes Superficial, Penetrative, or Composure damage while holding a person in their “mouth”/“stomach”, they must make a Reflexes roll if they want to stop themselves from accidentally injecting the person inside with digestive venom. Add +3 to this Reflexes roll if the person inside is wearing armor. 
Full Success: The TFB is able to keep total control and prevent themselves from injecting venom.
Partial Success: The TFB is able to barely stop themselves from releasing all their spines, and the character inside takes a small dose of venom. Applies poison (Non-lethal, OT: Immediate, DF: Per Round).
Failure: The TFB is not able to hold back at all and releases their spines completely. The character inside takes a full dose of the digestive venom. Applies poison (Lethal, OT: Immediate, DF: per round).
Enveloping Hold
For the purposes of Enveloping Hold, always use the TFB’s Unfurled Athletics modifier.
An Enveloping Hold works exactly like a regular Hold, except the TFB does not suffer the regular penalties and caveats associated with using a Hold. They can still move around and act freely. (They have unique rules for that, see p.xx “Digestion”.) With a successful Enveloping Hold, the TFB wraps themselves completely around the target, essentially “swallowing” them. The TFB’s “mouth” is also their stomach. As long as there is only one victim inside them, they may choose to immediately return to the human disguise.[1] Doing so under these exact circumstances does not take a Movement and does not require the thing from beyond to make a +3 Composure roll for using a supernatural power, even though it normally would. It is part of the “swallowing” process. If there are multiple targets Enveloping Grabbed, the Enveloping Hold targets all of them. It takes only one roll and is made with the least favorable Weight Class for the TFB. A TFB cannot effectively Disguise as human at all if they are attempting to contain more than one victim. When a TFB is Disguised in this way, they are wrapped around their victim like a full-body suit. The victim’s arms are inside their “arms,” the victim’s legs are inside their “legs,” the victim’s head is inside their “head,” etc. A TFB wrapped around a person in this way can count as Armor, at least from things besides bullets.
When a Disguised TFB has a person in an Enveloping Hold it is nearly impossible to tell that a person is inside them just by looking, as if the victim is wearing the TFB as a skin-tight bodysuit.[1] However, if the victim is still alive, their screams for help will almost certainly be heard by anyone within about 10 feet that can make a Full Success on a Senses Roll. On a Partial Success, the listener may hear some kind of muffled sound, but not be able to pinpoint its source. If the thing from beyond opens the fake mouth of their human disguise, however, the victim inside will certainly be able to be heard by everyone around.[2]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] The dimensions of the TFB’s Disguised form may appear slightly different than usual while holding a victim. They must at least somewhat mirror those of the victim inside.
[2 off to the side in the final formatting] “Hm? Did you just say something?”
[2.1. Off to the side in the final formatting] “No, sorry, must’ve been something I ate.”
Escaping a Thing from Beyond
If the victim inside a TFB is actively resisting them and/or trying to escape, apply a -1 penalty to all the TFB’s rolls per struggling victim.
For the purposes of any Escape attempts by the victim, always use the TFB’s Unfurled Athletics skill and modifiers.
Being surrounded by the TFB’s many dozens of teeth all pressing into them essentially means that the victim inside “chews” themselves by struggling too hard, saving the TFB energy. If the teeth are not being made to lay flat by the TFB, a victim trying to Escape from inside them takes 1 Superficial Damage for each Escape attempt, regardless of success or failure, unless the victim is wearing armor which covers most of their body as well as a helmet.
Chewing
Instead of Submission, an Enveloping Hold has chewing, which, mechanically, works exactly like Submission.[2] When a TFB has a victim in an Enveloping Hold, they may choose to “chew” their victim by squeezing and crushing them inside while cutting off their supply of air, and secreting acid to begin the process of digestion.[1] If there are multiple victims in an Enveloping Hold, this counts for all of them. 
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Simply holding a person inside is not inherently lethal or otherwise damaging to the victim, unless the TFB starts chewing and digesting them.
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Maintaining Chewing each Turn takes an Action, just like maintaining Submission.
Crunching
For the purposes of Crunching, always use the TFB’s Unfurled Athletics modifier.
A third option TFBs have for subduing tumultuous prey is to just squeeze them until their bones are crushed, or bend them in ways humans can’t stand to bend. If time is measured in Turns, this takes an Action. Make an Athletics roll with a -3 penalty, and apply Weight Class. If there are multiple targets, apply the least favorable Weight Class On a Full Success, anyone inside the TFB’s stomach takes 4 Penetrative Damage. On a Partial Success or Failure, the TFB fails to exert enough pressure, and cannot attempt this again on the same victim.
Digestion
It takes, on average, 7 days for a TFB to fully digest a human,[1] and digesting more than one at a time does not slow this process. By day 2, no skin will remain. By day 5, only bones remain. By the end of day 7, not even the skeleton will remain. The digestive system of the TFB is capable of absorbing and utilizing every bit of a human body, and produces virtually no solid waste, though they may spit out tattered, acid-washed clothing and other indigestibles at the end of this process. The body of the victim may also be spit out prematurely at any time for any reason.
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] If the victim is an Unkillable monster, double the digestion timeframe. [stick this in the monster edge cases section later]
So long as the TFB is digesting a victim, they do not need to eat other food and will never count as having skipped meals. At the end of each day, as long as the TFB is digesting a victim, they regain 1 point of Composure as if they had eaten three meals that day.[1] This goes on at the end of each day until the victim is completely digested. If there are multiple victims being digested at once, the thing from beyond regains 1 point of Composure for each victim. Additionally, each time a TFB gains Composure from digesting a person, add +1 Composure each time for every 2 years the TFB has been friends with this person. A TFB can also completely skip the Composure roll for Death by immediately consuming the corpse of the deceased.[2][3][4][5][6][7][8][1. Off to the side in the final formatting The victim does not have to be dead 
*yet* for this Composure to be restored, as long as they have been chewed and/or dissolved by acid enough to be forced to make an Injury roll.
[2 off to the side in the final formatting] For some TFBs, the closer they are to someone emotionally, the greater their desire to consume them may grow, to absorb that person’s thoughts, personality, memories, everything into their own body. This may show as frequent hugs in the human disguise, or even particularly “mouthy” “hugs” by the unfolded form, if the secret is already out. Most friends of a TFB would hope it never escalates beyond that.
[2.1. off to the side in the final formatting] A TFB whose true nature is already known to their edible friends may struggle to keep these thoughts to themselves if they lack the social skills to know better.
[2.2. off to the side in the final formatting] If they are respectful of their friends’ desire not to be digested alive, a TFB with these desires may instead settle for learning “what makes them tick” by more conventional means, studying their every move and closely watching their reaction to everything. Still, bodies may go missing after death.
[3 off to the side in the final formatting] Because things from beyond absorb information from their prey, they eventually do start to develop a good idea of what being digested alive is like. However, they will typically still consider the ends worth the means.
[4 off to the side in the final formatting] “I hate you, I might even spit you out once you’re dead because I don’t want you in me, depending on how hungry I feel.”
[5 off to the side in the final formatting] “Sorry, I’m just so hungry.”
[6 off to the side in the final formatting] “I’m sorry, I know this is really going to hurt, but when it’s done you’ll literally be a part of me forever.”
[6.1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Some TFBs may not conceptualize this as being the same thing as death for the human. A TFB may experience the want to merge with a particular human in a way a human simply cannot. This will not always translate into the desire to eat them, but it easily can, because a TFB may see no other way.
[7. Off to the side in the final formatting] Regardless of these attitudes, most of a TFB’s victims will still likely be people they have no relationship with.
[8 off to the side in the final formatting] TFBs have no natural sexual attraction to humans but may develop a desire for intimacy through relationships with humans and through learning this feeling through human DNA and memories they absorb. Their actual means of reproduction is entirely unknown, and may be entirely asexual–they at least do not possess sex organs in any way that a human may fully understand. How they go about achieving this intimacy, therefore, requires some creativity and experimentation, but no matter the conclusion, any human participant should always always wear protection.
Digestion and Investigation Points
As mentioned earlier, the TFB not only receives nourishment from their victims, but information from their brain matter and DNA as well.[1] To mechanically represent this, the TFB not only receives Composure points from digesting the victim, but Investigation Points as well.[2] The TFB also gains 1 Investigation Point from a digesting victim at the end of each day, so long as the victim has been chewed/dissolved enough to have to make an Injury roll.
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] As a predator species, TFBs use information assimilated from their prey to adjust and alter their own equivalent-to-brains to think and act more like their preferred prey and thus better hunt them. When TFBs appear on Earth and start to consume humans, this has the unexpected side effect of causing them to develop sapience and a personality.
[1.1. off to the side in the final formatting] Over time, the default look to a TFB’s human disguise becomes more than just a lure, but a persona as well. 
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] These Investigation Points represent the jumble of random information a TFB starts to absorb from their meal almost as soon as the process is underway. Often, TFBs won’t be exactly sure where they learned something, whether it was something they heard, or something someone they ate heard.
Add 1 additional investigation point each time if the victim was alive when put in the Enveloping Hold.
Add 1 additional Investigation Point if the victim was somehow connected to the current investigation, no matter what “side” of it they were on.[1]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] The TFB can tell if a victim is related to the current investigation or not by their taste after digesting them for at least long enough to gain a Composure point. 
Add 1 Investigation Point if the victim was a fellow investigator, and additionally the TFB can take 1 Eureka! Point from an investigator victim each time a point of Composure is restored by digesting them. They also gain the ability to use a Eureka! Point on any previously failed Investigative Rolls written on an investigator victim’s character sheet. This means that a TFB can potentially gain up to 4 Investigation Points per victim per day.
Subtract -2 investigation points from this total, to gain a minimum of 0, for any victim that has been dead more than an hour before being “swallowed.”
A TFB only gets the aforementioned Composure and Investigation Points if they have been digesting the victim or victims constantly since they were ingested. They cannot just leave a dead body in their apartment and return home to digest it for a few minutes at the end of each day, nor can they just lightly nibble on a friend for a few minutes at the end of the day to count as a “meal” and restore Composure. Doing this would give them no Composure points nor investigation points. They must keep wrapped around their prey overnight to digest overnight, but this does not mean that they must remain in human shape the entire time they are digesting.
Digestion and Exact Memories
Once a TFB has spent at least three days digesting a person that is somehow related to the current investigation, add “[Person’s Name]’s Mind” to their On-Person Inventory.[1] So long as they have this, at any point, they may spend a Eureka! Point to “use” the person’s mind to learn a single piece of useful information that the digested person would know, similar to how any investigator might use a Eureka! Point to learn from a previously Failed Investigative Roll.
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] TFBs do not absorb literally every piece of information held in a person’s brain, nor do they necessarily “keep” everything they do absorb. They aren’t hard drives. [Person’s Name]’s Mind will no-longer be in their inventory at the start of a new adventure under normal circumstances.
So long as they have this, add +1 to any Interpersonal roll targeting a person who knows the victim. They will also innately recognize people whom their victim knew, but may or may not know any details of their relationship, up to the Narrator. They also do not need to make a specific roll to be able to disguise their body and voice as this person’s.
Overclock Metabolism and Acid/Venom Spray
The TFB may spend 1 Eureka! Point to secrete an enormous amount of stomach acid from their “mouth” side in a very short time, regardless of whether they have a dose of digestive venom ready. If time is measured in Turns, this takes an Action, though it does not take an Action to keep this acid continuously coming until it runs out. If there are one or more living victims currently inside the TFB, each will immediately take 8 Superficial damage, and then take 8 Superficial damage on the TFB’s Turn each Round for 7 Rounds. Halve this damage if the target is only Enveloping Grabbed by the TFB and not Enveloping Held. This also advances the digestion process by 1 day on the TFB’s Turn each Round for 7 Rounds, including any Composure restoration, Investigation Point gain, and deterioration of the victim’s body that would entail. This, however, will not grant “[Person’s Name]’s Mind” until the victim is dead. Additionally, this allows for digestion of inorganic substances, though the taste and feeling of doing so are not at all pleasant to the TFB. This excess acid secretion may be ended early at any time, but another Eureka! Point must then be spent to start it back up again.
This excess secretion of acid may be used for other purposes too. If Unfurled, then the TFB may flatten themselves against a surface and dissolve a hole through it equal to their size and shape at a rate of about one half of an inch per Turn.[1] This does take an Action each Turn to continuously do.[2]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] The dissolution rate of different substances may actually vary up to the Narrator's discretion.
[2 off to the side in the final formatting] The TFB will taste every moment of this.
In either form, 1 Round after the Eureka! Point was spent, the TFB is secreting enough stomach acid that they may pressurize it within their body and spray it up to 10 feet in any and all directions. Treat this mechanically as though a splash explosion had happened centered on the TFB, though they may instead choose any number of specific targets within range rather than hitting every potential target in range indiscriminately. Targets hit will take 2 Superficial damage each round until the acid can be washed away or wiped off.
A TFB is immune to its own acid, like its venom. They are of very similar chemical construction.
Inhuman Sleeping Patterns
Sections of a TFB’s body take “sleep” in shifts,[1] with their whole body only shutting down for a short period of time each day. Therefore, TFBs do not appear to require as much sleep as regular humans do. A TFB need only sleep for 2 Ticks to get a Full Night’s Rest. Treat 1 Tick of rest as equivalent to less than 8 hours of sleep, and 0 Ticks as staying up all night.[2][3][4]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] This has no other mechanical effect, except that when a TFB says “my leg fell asleep,” it could be a very literal statement.
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Though TFBs are neither nocturnal nor dinurial, they will mostly try to keep up the act of a human sleeping pattern.
[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] Speaking of “sleeping patterns,” their skin may go through elaborate changes of color when they dream.
[4. Off to the side in the final formatting] Most TFBs are capable of maintaining a folded shape even while asleep.
Whenever a TFB sleeps, their photoreceptors do not shut down entirely. They will be vaguely aware of their surroundings even while sleeping. If a threat approaches them in their sleep, they may make a Reflexes or Senses roll and wake up on a Partial Success or Full Success.
Whenever a TFB sleeps, and the result would matter in any way, roll 1D6. On a result of 1-3, the TFB will wake up in an entirely different color combination than they were when they went to sleep.[1]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Redoing their human persona’s tattoos and makeup on these mornings can be a hassle.
Crawl Away from a Hot Needle (Thing from Beyond Weakness)
TFBs are survivable, but not invincible. There are a number of substances and situations that their bodies do not react well to.
Regeneration Impediments
Damage from the following sources is not halved: Fire and extreme heat, acid, or nickel.[1]
[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] For example, a regular bullet would deal 2 Penetrative Damage to the TFB, but a nickel-plated bullet would deal the regular 4.
If any damage is caused to them by these substances during an instance of combat, they will not automatically regenerate 1 of both types of HP at the end of combat, nor at the end of the same session.[1] This damage may still be healed by other means.
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] They will continue to regenerate as normal from the next session and next instance of combat, as long as they don’t take any more damage from these substances.
Nickel Poisoning
Nickel is a highly toxic substance to TFBs, and if they start to digest it,[2] they must immediately expel the entire contents of their stomach, or make a Reflexes roll to more discriminately spit out only the source of nickel.[1]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Jewelry, buttons, and other metal apparel are commonly nickel-plated or use nickel as a filler. TFBs who don’t pay attention to what their victims are wearing may soon regret it.
[2 off to the side in the final formatting] If the TFB is not actively digesting, the nickel will not dissolve into their bloodstream. 
Full Success: They can spit out only the source of nickel quickly enough to not suffer more than a very unpleasant taste.
Partial Success: They can spit out only the source of nickel, but not before becoming poisoned (Non-lethal, OT: Immediate, DF: per Tick).
Failure: They fail to spit out the nickel before it dissolves in their stomach, and they suffer from poison (Lethal, OT: Immediate, DF: per Tick).
Extreme Heat
TFBs must have “Extreme Heat” at some place on their Tiers of Fear. They make this Composure roll when exposed to temperatures greater than 100F/38C. Additionally, if they are Disguised, when exposed to temperatures greater than 130F/55C, they must make a Reflexes roll to maintain their disguise or else flop open violently.
Full Success: They do not allow their disguise to falter at all.
Partial Success: Their disguise falters slightly, gaps opening up and certain features slipping out of place for only a second or two.
Failure: They completely unravel into their unfurled state.
Alien Nightmares
TFBs have vivid dreams, and their nightmares are particularly distressing to the part of their mind that has developed human sensibilities.[1] If a TFB is at 3 Composure or below, roll 1D6 each time they sleep. On a 5 or 6, they will have a vivid nightmare. This means that they fail to gain any Composure points from this rest. On a 6, they will extend their venomous spines in panic, injecting or launching digestive venom into whatever their “mouth” side is touching.[2]
[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Is this from the last moments of their victims, or something long before that?
[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Thimbles could be useful, maybe?
Misc. Tells
False Clothing
Many TFBs find any kind of human apparel uncomfortable and restrictive to wear. When the TFB disguises themselves as a human by folding into a human shape, their “clothes” are typically also part of the disguise, and are thus warm to the touch like skin, and may not hang exactly like actual fabric should.
Weight
While holding a person inside their human disguise, the TFB will of course be twice as heavy.
X-Ray
The TFB has no bones, but may pass an x-ray exam by holding another person in their body for its duration, if this would, like, ever come up. [maybe make this a sidebar in the Invertebrate section?]
Heartbeat
TFB do not have a centralized heart and thus do not have a proper heartbeat anywhere on their body.
All Stomach
Listening to any part of a TFB’s body while they are digesting a victim will sound like putting your ear to someone’s stomach.
False Mouth
Anyone into the “mouth” of a TFB’s human persona may see the TFB’s many rows of real teeth in the back of their “throat.”
How to Kill a Thing from Beyond
A TFB’s main body is capable of gradually regenerating so long as even a small scrap of flesh remains from it. In order to permanently kill a TFB, the damage that takes them to 0 Penetrative HP must be done with fire or an acidic substance, or all of their remains gathered and thoroughly burned or dissolved afterwards.
They will also die permanently if killed by nickel poisoning, though not if killed by a nickel weapon. 
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spending-life-pretending · 4 months ago
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no bc when you stop and think about the full implications of fitz and the fool calling each other “beloved” you do have to go a little crazy. it’s required. because what do you mean that 6 sentences after fitz thinks, “being fitz had never been that enticing an existence” the fool summons him back to himself by calling him “beloved” and renewing their bond. what do you mean fitz refers to this as “burning my identity into me.” what do you mean “the word echoed through me, rebounded me from my fraying edges, found and bound me.” what do you mean. are you not going insane.
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inadequatecowboy · 2 months ago
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You should know my entire soul screamed when I saw this tagged bellamy blake. It's so right, so true, and I'm losing my mind over it.
I love a character raised to be a weapon as much as the next guy. But what really gets me is a character raised to be a shield. Who can’t fathom being needed—or even being wanted— beyond keeping others safe. Who believe they are alive only to insure someone doesn’t die. no matter the cost. Characters who self-sacrifice not because they think they deserve it, but because no one else does deserve it, and it’s their job to protect.
Characters who’ve been told that’s why your important. Your worth something because this other person/ thing is important, and you are here solely to keep them safe.
Bonus points if it’s not a legitimate job they’ve been given. Maybe at one point it was, but now that they are free from it, they haven’t given up that mentality. No one is forcing or asking them to do this, but they need to. They need to in order to be deserving.
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teaboot · 27 days ago
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Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.
This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.
You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.
For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.
White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.
Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.
Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.
The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.
There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.
The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"
You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.
Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.
Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.
Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.
If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.
If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.
When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".
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brittle-doughie · 2 months ago
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Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?
>The Beasts get corrupted
>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails
>cue them starting to die
>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take
>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they could’ve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going
>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around
>cue literally everything else
Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.
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The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)
Witch’s Castle witches are pretty neat.
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“The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling…When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.”
“The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.”
“..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world…”
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“And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.”
“Knowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.”
“The Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.”
Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.
“So those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?”
“Huh…Those “Six Virtues” are different from those of the Soul Jams. There’s six of them, yet only five today…”
“The Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.”
“Alas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends…A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.”
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“One by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted…reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence….”
Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.
“Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scary…
“Wait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They weren’t evil too, were they?”
“The Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusade…”
“The Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.”
“Compassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispers…But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittle…”
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“Come on, snap out of you all! This isn’t what you guys once were!”
“What’s the big deal, silly willy~ There isn’t anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!”
“No! This isn’t you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!”
“It pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that you’re different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?”
“I can’t…I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, don’t you want that?”
“They will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothing…the futility of all this should be clear to you…”
“As if! It isn’t pointless to live life the way you want it to! It’s how you spend it and make the most of it!”
“They will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! You’re starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!”
“I won’t let you hurt them and I don’t want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, don’t do this…”
“……”
“Your silence says everything I need to hear from you. I tried…but I will put a stop you no matter if I’m reduced to bits!”
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“Woah….What happened to them?”
“The Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend was…and they perished right in the middle of the circle….”
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“Ok, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!”
“Darling, we know we haven’t hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beasts…”
“Hmm…they don’t seem to be responding to us…”
“Hey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, you’re..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.”
Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wrist…jumping back when they feel nothing…
“Ahaha! Okay! This isn’t funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! I’ll make you if you don’t!”
“D-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join us…”
“Burning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?
“D-Don’t put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!”
“….!”
The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their faces…
“Y/N Cookie, if you don’t stop playing jokes with me right now, I’ll never forgive you!”
“Darling! Wake up! I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Don’t leave me alone!”
“It was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yet…my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resist….please, wake up…”
“God DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldn’t have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruined….because of me….”
“….Hmph….”
Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had done…for what they all had done….
“I wish…I could’ve done more for you all…I wished…that I had loved all of you more…to not…end up like this...”
“…..I’m sorry…..”
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“The Witches couldn’t bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them all…they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land…”
“And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live on….From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.”
“The Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the end…Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.”
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“All, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with her…”
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“So, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?”
“It’s what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, someday…”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.
“…..What?”
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n0cturnalp1g · 1 month ago
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Tale As Old as Time
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Summary: Prince Daemon Targaryen hated everyone and anyone that has the name Hightower in it. But there was an exception to it, the oldest sister of Alicent and Gwayne Hightower, the Wretched Hightower as she was infamously known for. But Daemon was on a mission to ensure she will be called by any other name–even if it means putting his own as a result. Characters: Daemon Targaryen x Female!Reader!Hightower. Otto Hightower. Alicent Hightower. Viserys Targaryen. Word Count: 1,360 Chapter Warnings: Not Edited. Slight Profanities. Otto being Otto. Author's Note: Enemies to Lovers anyone?
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Prince Daemon Targaryen knew how much of a cunt Otto Hightower was. It goes for Alicent and Gwayne too. But somehow, such disdain and loathing cannot be said about you. His exception as he fondly calls you.
You were known as the Wretched Hightower that did not stay long in Oldtown for causing far too much destruction and the only way for your father to ever control you was if you were close to him–or rather have the Kingsguard and even the City Watch constantly under surveillance of you.
Hence, this was the very reason why Daemon was so fond of you. How even his most skilled City Watch or even the Kingsguard themselves was no match to your resourcefulness and how easy it was to evade each and every single one of them at night as you spent your nights in Fleabottom, away from the constant control of the Keep.
“Here you are again, it seems.”
Daemon looked at you, defiance all too evident in your eyes as you looked right at him. One too many run-ins with each other, the surprise has finally worn off your face every single time he catches you strolling around. But never once did the dagger in your grasp ease away in the numerous instances of seeing you.
“I’m sure at this point you are just following me, Your Grace.” You spoke, no sense of decorum or politeness unlike your sister. You were very much a woman with a mind of your own not controlled by your father.
“I am simply doing my job. Somehow, my patrolling the safety of King’s Landing also has an additional responsibility of making sure the Wretched Hightower does not cause a scene.”
At the mention of the moniker, your eyes darken and your knuckles turned white as your grip on your dagger tightened. If he pushes you further, there might even be a chance you might make use of it–on him more specifically.
“I apologize for adding to your responsibilities, Lord of Flea Bottom.” You curtsied mockingly in front of him to earn a huge grin on his mouth. He loved this, you play as hard as he does, every single time, you will not let anyone else win if you had a chance. Never one to allow anyone else to have the last word.
But the Rogue Prince wasn’t known for his patience, more known for his pettiness.
With a nod, he moved quicker than you anticipated and you were lifted into his arms before moving until you were now on his shoulder. An annoyed scream escaped your lips, your dagger was taken before you could make use of it.
“Let go of me you stupid fucking lizard!”
“My, does your father not teach you manners, or respect?” He teased as he began his journey back to the Keep, anticipating what that Cunt Otto would do now. “I could even cite you for attempted regicide.”
“I don’t give a damn about your laws, Targaryen! Let go of me!” You continued to scream, your fist hitting his armored back. He was genuinely surprised by how unmoved you were by the metal he wore–but then again anger and spite was the best remedy for pain but he was all the more certain you will be feeling the damage was all was said and done.
“I’m sure your father would love to hear you and your opinions of the law in the Seven realms.” He chuckled, ignoring the eyes that had now come glued to all of them.
He ensured even in your already embarrassing state, you were decent. The hand holding onto your dagger also ensured your skirt did not show more than you intended to.
“Make sure you rest well, the next time I see you I’ll make sure to slit your throat and bathe in your blood.”
“A woman after my own heart.” Daemon continued to point out with a wicked grin as he walked further away from the chaos of Fleabottom. “I can only hope you still have that fire when we return to the Keep, Lady Hightower.”
Daemon only knew what your father would think of this situation, more so when he was once again responsible for taking you back without harm on a single hair on your pretty little head.
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“You continue to bring shame upon the family name, you insolent brat!”
You have been so used to your father’s scolding, but the only difference with this time was the fact that he wasn’t alone. Daemon Targaryen had made a spectacle out of you, bringing you into the throne room in front where your father, the King’s Hand stood, arms crossed and veins on the brink of popping.
In the throne room also resided a few key figures in the parading embarrassment that was Daemon’s own making.
The King himself, amused as much as he was tired of your antics sat on the throne, the grin openly evident on his face but no one was to question him for his emotions for he was afterall the King.
Your younger sister and the King’s wife, Alicent, was also present. Ever the lapdog of your father was also disappointed in you as you strived for your own freedom–something she did not have since agreeing to marry the King.
Then there was the man that was responsible for your predicament. Prince Daemon Targaryen. A smirk all the more evident on his face, victorious for one upping you in this imaginary war you somehow waged with the Rogue Prince since your nightly escape.
“Are you done, father?” You inquired.
“This is the reason why I should have married you to that Lord in the south!” Otto continued, voice growing louder now.  “I can’t control you, your Uncle could not control you, your husband might control you as he should!”
You scoffed. You knew as much as he did that there was no Lord in the south. His first plan of many was for you to marry the King the first moment that the late Queen was burned in the Hill of Rhaenys. But as Wretched as you were known in the realm, you still had common decency. You will never marry a mourning man who lost his wife and child for the sake of a better standing for the family. The same could not be said about your younger sister, now married and now carrying her second child with the King.
“I’d rather be a Septa than marry a man that will never keep up with me, Lord Hand.” You spat.
You glared at the chuckle that escaped the Rogue Prince’s lips.
“I think there will be a much better way to handle this dispute, Lord Hand.” King Viserys pointed out, the fun of the situation now gone and it left nothing more than a family dispute that he should not be a part of.
“Nothing could control her, no Kingsguard nor City Watch can tame her, and I am having second thoughts of throwing her into sept instead.”
You rolled your eyes. He never truly cared about you, your brother, or your sister. It was always like this with him. If he finds no use out of you, he will throw you out like a used toy. It was a cycle that you were all the more familiar with. Lived through it for years, long before either Alicent or Gwayne was born.
“Perhaps I could be of assistance.” Daemon began.
All heads turned to the man, your heart lurched from your chest as if already having an idea of what he had in mind. The games this bastard was playing.
“I am in need of a new wife…as you may all know Lady Rhea Royce has recently passed and our union did not bless us with any children.” He continued as the grin on his lips grew wider, all the more seeing his brother, the King convinced with the idea.
“No!” For once you and your father was in agreement with something, who would have ever thought it would be to oppose a man you had both equally despised–but for reasons far different from one another. 
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fullfriendnerdclutch · 30 days ago
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Halloween is Around the Corner
This is why I hate Halloween with the common people. They cannot appreciate how I'm not only dressing up as a firefighter, I'm WEARING a firefighter, a studly one at that.
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Yeah he is a firefighter in real life so taking out this costume is real easy because this is literally his uniform, but c'mon now, the folks simply don't understand how difficult it was for me to acquire this costume. It was real brutal and I almost failed to jab the syringe to that thick neck of his, but I managed to did it by the end of the day, hence here I am standing here ready for an early Halloween celebration by testing out my costume.
Now, what do you think if rather than mixing with the common crowd, we have a Halloween party with all the TF enthusiast out there instead? I know some of yall have stash of interesting person to wear, possess, puppet around or whatever, but let's do something fresh for this year. Consider this an early Christmas unboxing, an early New Year resolution, go for that new body and let's appreciate each other's story on how we managed to really up the bar for Halloween this year.
Already heard some plan about some of you dressing as the classics; police officers, sporting team coaches or even leather daddy, which sounds solid.
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Some of yall also informed me that yall planned to dress up as stereotype like failed-star-turned-OF-influencer, douchebag frat bros or deadbeat blue-collar worker, which might be a bit touche and God forbid yall got affected by their mindset and found yourself struggling to get out of such personas after the party, but hey, I trust that you know what you're doing so that's should be okay.
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But my ears perked up when I heard that one of you slid inside a loving, health-conscious, family man with 3 kids and planned to make him do some lewd act a responsible member of society like him will never do.
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That's as bad as sleeping with a girl you have a crush on by possessing her boyfriend, that's not nice bro, that's manipulation, but hey, who am I to judge?
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I mean I'm literally turning a respectable, hard-working firefighter just to fulfill my hedonistic desire for a one night party, so please, you do you. Just inform me how do you want to come to the party and how many people will you bring so I can properly prepare to welcome any of you. Just don't be a giant or some kind of gory type of cosplay, okay? Let's not complicate a night filled with bunch of people not really looking like themselves with possible crime or property destruction. Oh yeah, almost forgot. If you found this invite at the very last minute and have no costume yet, I have some suits of my crew from the firehouse if you want to borrow them. I figured that why not just spiked the entire firehouse since I'm inside their captain anyway, my associates are using them now for cover but on the 31st, they'll be in another bodies and these are available for you to borrow. First come, first serve though, you cannot ask me to keep it for ya.
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So, see you later folks, better dress up well
416 notes · View notes
koolades-world · 2 years ago
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Demons and Humans not understanding each other
Inspired by several other posts I read about this same thing <3 honestly even if the brothers insisted it was safe, I would consult Satan, Lucifer or Barbatos
this is mostly mammon freaking out
Humans think the deadliest things are like, adorable, like Cerberus. Mammon especially does not understand why Mc wants to run towards the very dangerous, very mad three headed dog. A few times he has had to throw Mc over his shoulder to keep them from staying behind
“MC CERBERUS BEING THE BEST BOY DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS HE WANTS TO KILL US”
“But he’s so cute! He just needs a snuggle buddy”
Humans can also be very stubborn if they’re too hot or cold but refuse to admit it. It’s fine with Lucifer does it because he’s one of the most powerful and therefore resilient demons in Hell, but not so much when Mc does it. Beel and Mammon love playing in the Devildom snow, but given that it’s the Devildom, it’s definitely a lot colder than it is in the human realm. Even after ten layers, Mc is still freezing but refuses to admit it.
“Mc, are ya shivering? I thought ya would be too warm under all that”
“I’m sweating with this one jacket”
“I’ll live! Let’s go back to the snowman”
“no I don’t think you will”
On the same note, sometimes demons forget humans can’t withstand crazy temperatures. Asmo will invite Mc to a popular bathhouse, sauna or hot springs, forgetting that the temperature would literally boil Mc alive
“Hey Asmo this is the place you wanted to go, right?”
“Yes! Isn’t is cute?”
“Everything except the part where I boil alive”
“what!”
Some foods can kill humans just by being near them so imagine how the brother would feel when they learned this, it’s giving that lunatic pudding incident with Diavolo from that one card
“Mc! You’ll love this. Open wide!”
“Asmo I feel funny”
“DO NOT FEED MC THE TAKEOUT LUCIFER SAID ITS DEADLY FOR HUMANS IN LARGE AMOUNTS”
“FUCK NOT AGAIN”
In retrospect, humans probably sleep a lot compared to demons. Some demons probably don’t sleep at all, except Sloth demons. Setting aside about eight to nine hours of the day just to sit idly might not make sense to them until they learn they will shut down without it
“How are you feeling about the exam we just took? Exam week is finally over.”
“Mc? Mc, Satan is talking to you. Why are you on the floor”
“MY HUMAN IS DEAD”
“No, I think they’re just asleep idiot”
“oh. wait, THEYRE ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALL lucifer is gonna kill me”
I’d say both demons and humans are social creatures, but humans will go insane without social interaction. Yeah a demon would probably be upset if they didn’t talk to someone for thousands of years but I don’t think a human could last more than ten without losing grip on reality. Humans tend to copy each other, which is probably bizarre to demons. Humans don’t even understand yawning so demons definitely won’t
Going back to the food thing, demons can probably go ages without eating, besides Gluttony demons. Humans need to eat so frequently compared to them
“So you’re tellin’ me that if Mc doesn’t eat for a whole week, their insides start to eat themselves?!”
“Yes. But, Mc ate a few hours ago.”
(Mammon was already gone when Satan turned back around)
Demons probably also play game that would definitely kill humans. My brother and I used to play crazy games when we were little (our favorite game didn’t have a name but we would put Barbies in the toy train tracks and see what would happen when different Thomas and friends character would hit her. The train tracks would glow in the dark! I did not let him put my favorite doll in the train track and he had to listen since I was the older one, she was not a barbie and had bendy feet? that’s not for now) but we never seriously got at each other throats. I cannot imagine what games demons and demon children must play. Satan was born fully grown but imagine if he was born little and the brothers had to play his favorite games with him. I feel like they would find the Barbie game I played a little weird too. Like, they would probably tell me that I should’ve done it in real life since that would be better experience or something batshit like that
“Aww, Satan, do you remember all the times we played “Five minute eye stab” with Lucifer? You were so cute. Sometimes I think Luci let you win.”
“Do not talk to me Asmodeus.”
“I’m sorry, you played what?”
“One time we gave him an actual knife by accident and since he was good, he ended up stabbing Lucifer’s eye.”
“You’ll be next if you don’t shut up and let me read”
“HE WHAT”
“Oh he’s fine now, clearly. Only took him a few hundred years to regain normal eye functions”
“Can we not talk about this anymore?”
Babe it is a miracle Mc is still alive
7K notes · View notes
earthtooz · 1 year ago
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x : AFTERGLOW :*+゚ it's all me, just don't go !
in which: rin doesn't realise what he has until it's gone. now that you're gone, he will do anything to get you back.
warnings: 5.2k wc, ANGST TO FLUFF, breakup, toxic relationship towards the beginning, rin is really mean to gn!reader, hopeful ending, rin is devastatingly in love and pathetic, reader and rin are adults + he's a soccer player, other characters make an appearance and are friends with reader, mentions of throwing up, mentions of food, both reader and rin cry, just listen to taylor swift's 'afterglow'.
a/n: FINALLY, THIS FIC THAT I STARTED ALL THE WAY BACK IN APRIL IS DONE. GOODNESS. i have mixed feelings towards this piece, but i cannot withhold it from the world any longer. i'm going to forget i ever wrote this and move on! this literally took three drafts to finish.
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you don’t know when your relationship with itoshi rin began to crumble since it isn’t an event that can be pinpointed, not a date that can be marked in your calender, and most certainly not a reminder you can set in your phone. 
your friends keep telling you that you need to think back on it, that although it hurts, it was a necessary step in healing and getting over him. the more you reflect on it, however, your heart would only shatter into more fragments, with each one piercing you with the memories of better times. 
when did his expression turn sour? when did he begin looking at you with such disdain? when did he decide he didn’t need you anymore?
when did rin’s chips of insecurity wedge themselves between you?
the only memory that serves as an answer occurred at 7:00 pm one regular night. if you think hard enough, you can remember how the plush couch cushions sank under your weight, the clicks of the clock that had a second hand minutely too fast, and the sinking feeling of premonition in your gut. 
the latest rin ever comes back is 6:00, and if not, he would have let you known why he wasn’t home.
so where was he? the takeout you bought for dinner is getting cold and your stomach is growing louder and more impatient by the second. you didn’t want to eat without him though since it’s something you did daily; eating together as a way of debriefing and letting go of the stress that the day brought.
after an onslaught of unanswered phone calls from you, at 7:15, rin merely texts a ‘won’t be home for a while. eat without me’, and although rin was naturally curt and straightforward, the text had a depravity of… him, somehow. either way, his message causes a swirl of emotions in your stomach; unpleasant ones that begin to grow a nauseous shade of green.
you put rin’s takeaway in the fridge regardless, sending him a quick text telling him to be safe and that you’ll see him soon. 
he probably got caught up with something. you’re sure it’ll be fine. 
you shouldn’t have ignored that sinking feeling of premonition. shouldn’t have pushed down the unease swirling in your stomach when shutting the door to the refrigerator before stalking over to the kitchen island with slow steps as you prepare to eat in silence. no one to keep you company except your own thoughts and the ghost of rin’s presence.
and when rin does come home almost two hours later, he stills calls your name as usual, you still go to him as usual, he greets you with a tired smile as usual, you hug him as usual, he doesn’t kiss the top of your forehead, though. you ignore it, pushing your thoughts aside because he was home. he finally came back. you’ll wake up tomorrow and this uneasy feeling will sort itself out.
except it doesn’t.  
from that night onwards, rin changes. slowly, but surely, the cracks of change manifest in your relationship and through it all, you choose to cast a blind eye, plastering over it with sightless belief in your love. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
the queasy feeling in your gut never stills. it fades at times when your mind is busy with other things, but it inevitably gets drawn back into the whirlpool of concern regarding your lover- or, rather, rin.
you think you’re still in a relationship, but you don’t really know anymore. you haven’t seen him in a while. the only indication of his existence that you get are the stray bowls he leaves on the kitchen counter whenever he’s done eating, the lessening weight of his protein powder containers, and the decrease of various food items from the fridge that you restock here and there.
it feels like you’re living with a ghost.
some nights, when it gets the most lonely, your mind betrays you, completely eliminating any and all trust you had in rin. 
you wonder if there’s another person. another lover that he feels more passionately for. another lover that his heart had gravitated towards, abandoning yours in the process. perhaps that is the explanation behind his absence. 
but no evidence points towards that conclusion. there has been no suspicious deduction of bills from his bank statement that would suggest infidelity, his location is constantly at the sports stadium whenever you check, and there are no traces of a lover on him- not even you. 
it is not totally blasphemous to assume that itoshi rin wouldn’t be engrossed in soccer to the point that he’d spend unhealthy and obsessive hours into honing his abilities, but it feels a little traitorous that he could forget about life outside of the sport. it isn’t just you he’s neglecting. his mother and father have been constantly asking when he’ll come over to spend some time together, his teammates have been asking you about rin’s whereabouts and when he’ll be free and what’s worse is that you never know how to answer every time. 
it’s embarrassing to be seen as a lover that is forgettable enough for rin to dismiss, so you lie and lie and lie, telling everyone that you’ll tell them later, that he’s fine and just busy, and you lie to yourself. you tell yourself that rin will be home soon so you two can talk about it, and then everything will return to normal.
(your reflection looks through your facade, disheartened and worried.)
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“why are you late?” 
you jump at the voice that greets you when you step foot in the apartment and the sight before you causes you to wonder just how tired you feel, because rin is in your apartment, where he’s meant to be, for once. not only that, but he’s leaning against the couch, adorned in loungewear and slippers, and the sight is too foreignly domestic for your comprehension. 
coming home to a house with someone there feels nice. 
he’s lost a little bit of muscle and fat, but his frame is still as intimidating; shoulders broad and built, just the faintest indicator into the athletic body he’s developed over the years. his hair is a little longer too. 
“oh, rin, hi.” you mutter, surprise evident in your tone.
“hello.”
“since i got a promotion,” you respond simply. rin makes no move to approach you, no initiative to take your bag and put it on the couch for you. instead, he stays rooted in his position leaning against the couch, arms crossed.
the air around him feels hostile, and suddenly you’re almost afraid to speak. “and does that promotion change your work hours or something?”
(he doesn’t congratulate or celebrate your achievement.)
“i work with flexible hours now but the office is further and the commute is so bothersome.”
rin uncrosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, gaze glued to the floor, mind occupied. you approach him slowly, pulling your bag off your shoulder and setting it in the entrance near the genkan with a thud, the sound sobering to him.
when he looks back up, you don’t want to acknowledge the emptiness in his icy eyes, barren of the usual determination that defined itoshi rin. but if you knew that that day would be the beginning of the end, perhaps you would have done something about it.
when you opened your arms for him, perhaps you would have hugged him a little tighter, a little longer, strained all the stress out of his shoulders.
perhaps you would have protected him a little harder from the cruelties of his own mind; shown him that the world was not out to get him, and that there was a place for people like him in the world (people who can’t see their own value and instead, berate themselves for their waning self-worth because they cannot see the light behind them).
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“i’m going to shower,” rin declares once the moment both of you step in the safety of your shared home.
“no, you’re not! not before we talk,” you demand, hurriedly taking off your shoes so you can face him before he slips out of your grasp. the dark-haired turns to look at you with an unamused expression, the way tonight seemed to drag on obviously taking a toll on him.
“you’re gonna stop me from taking a shower, really?”
“yes because what the fuck was going on with you tonight?”
he narrows his eyes into slits, the pure intimidation that rin naturally emanates almost threatening you into submission. however, for the humiliation you’ve had to endure tonight, you won’t budge.
“i don’t understand,” rin says monotonously. you roll your eyes.
“you don’t understand? what’s that supposed to mean?”
“i don’t know what you’re getting mad over.”
“the fact that you didn’t even try to talk to me- let alone look at me, once this entire night?”
your partner looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “that’s an exaggeration,” he huffs.
“no it’s not!” you recall the looks of pity sent your way when rin sat beside you unmoving and unresponsive to any conversation you tried to make. “would it have killed to show you some sort of interest?”
“would it kill you to not receive attention for one night?” he retaliates. 
“it’s not about that-”
“really? sure feels like it. i don’t have time to shower you with all my attention, y/n, there are other things i have to do.” 
there are a million things you want to say to rin, a million emotions that you have felt whilst he’s been absent, a million examples of how he’s been leaving you behind and how you’re now fed up of keeping these millions to yourself. yet, not a word leaves you, too stunned by the stranger in front of you to voice it all out. 
rin, however, takes your silence as defeat and turns to leave.
“you’re being dramatic. i’m going to shower before i waste anymore time with this lukewarm conversation.” 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
the night your relationship officially fell apart is one you still remember vividly, because it only happened a few days ago.
in your memory, the night was nearing 9pm, yet rin had still not come home. 
your heart takes you to him because as much as your relationship with him has caused you nothing but pain recently, you know itoshi rin. you know him because you’re soulmates and where he goes, there’s a fragment of your heart that follows. 
the drive to the practice pitch is nothing but heavy. heavy with your anticipation and stress, you feel your chest constrict and tighten, especially when you pull up into the very empty parking lot. 
“rin!” you shout for the fifth time and only then, does the dark-haired look up at you from where he’s doing dribbling drills. he almost trips over the ball from your interruption. 
“wha- oh,” he turns away just before you can catch the roll of his eyes, the snarl of frustration (one that lovers should never bare at each other). “what do you want?”
you pause a few feet away from him, utterly gobsmacked with the attitude your partner was showing you. after driving all this way, the least you’d want is a little concern, but alas.
“it’s time to go,” you stand your ground. “i’m here to pick you up.”
“yeah, right, i’m not going home.”
“that’s ridiculous! are you not tired?”
“no.”
“rin. c’mon, that’s enough, you need to rest.”
“what the fuck do you know about being enough?” he asks.
the silence is deafening and most hurtful. 
you stammer out the only response you can, “wh-what?”
he doesn’t give you anything. unrelenting, he is. rin has always been the embodiment of stubbornness served cold. not finding much productivity in his silence, you continue speaking with a wavering voice. “let’s go home. please, you shouldn’t be working yourself like this-”
“-leave me the fuck alone!” he finally comes undone. “can’t you see that i don’t have time to deal with headaches like you?”
the thread keeps unravelling.
“fucking lukewarm. i can’t deal with this right now, i don’t need you here.”
“fine,” you murmur. rin has his back turned against you and he prepares himself to kick another ball. “i’ll leave then since you don’t need me.”
when rin arrives home that night, he reasons the unease churning in his stomach on the physical exertion of practice as nothing is out of place. the apartment is as kept and tidy as it typically is, the lights are off because you’ve gone to bed, and there is a meal on the kitchen counter sealed by plastic wrap.
he won’t eat it because he’ll want to throw up otherwise, so rin tucks it neatly into the fridge, not thinking twice about the emptiness on the shelves, right where your favourite drinks are normally kept. 
the athlete washes up quickly and efficiently, a good night’s rest sounding too appealing for his battered body that felt as heavy as lead. 
that night, sleep takes rin and lulls him into a temporary sanctuary, protecting him from the reality that he would wake up to. because when morning comes, he will turn and find that you are not beside him like he expects you to be. your side of the bed is untouched, devoid of any warmth or indicator that you were there.
he checks the bathroom- you’re not there. he calls your name in the hallway- you don’t respond. he scans the kitchen, the study, the living room, and finds nothing but loneliness in each room. there’s no text from you indicating that you were elsewhere.
you’ll return, though. rin’s sure of it.
except you don’t, the hours pass by with rin anticipating your return, and his confidence slowly dwindles with each minute. by the time it’s been 24 hours since he last saw you, his patience runs thin. finding your contact, rin presses the ‘call’ button and is surprised that it does not go through, stopping him after only one ring when an automated voice says ‘this caller is unavailable’. 
the dark-haired stares at your contact in contempt, furrowing his eyebrows when all of his following attempts receive the same treatment, but rin continues stubbornly because you couldn’t have blocked him, right?
was it because of what he said? he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean to blow up on you like that- how is he supposed to say sorry if he can’t even reach you?
checking his private accounts on various social media, he sees that you’ve blocked him there too. running in to the master bedroom and checking the closet, half of your clothes are missing, and the bag you keep on the shelf is missing too. the bathroom lacks some of your products, your laptop and various chargers are gone from your study space, and the heaviness of your absence hits itoshi rin like a train.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
you never did come around to collect your stuff. rin finds a little bit of pain in that fact.
he feels like a ghost, haunted by the trinkets of you that remain littered around his apartment. he doesn't have the heart to throw them out, not when they're the closest thing to you he can get.
a few times rin sees you in his dreams. a few times he sees you in his nightmares, looking completely hurt and run-down by his recklessness and neglect, but most mornings he wakes up feeling emptier, no one to turn to on your side on the bed. not anymore. there’s no body to hold when he needs it most, there’s no one to keep him company whilst he eats dinner, there’s no love. not since the day you left.
you, on the other hand, find it odd to live life without a second person in the periphery. you thought rin was the one for you, you never had any thoughts about what life could be without him because you were certain that it would be him that you spent the rest of your years with, so learning to accommodate without him is gnawing you away, the little bug of loneliness festing on your newfound independence. 
you’re seated on the floor of your best friend’s living room when reo texts one day, interrupting your apartment hunt.
reo: Are you still coming to my party?
you scrunch your eyebrows at the text, unknowing of where it was coming from.
y/n: not anymore. what’s up?
reo: Why not :( reo: Please it’d be so fun
y/n: don’t you know that rin and i broke up?
reo: Ok but he’s definitely not coming reo: It’s Rin, he doesn’t have a life so you’re fine. Pls say you’ll come
reo: Plus he’s been all mopey ever since so I don’t think he’s in a party mood
you dutifully ignore the last part of reo’s statement. after a little more coaxing, he finally manages to get you to agree to come, but not without a feeling of apprehension settling in your gut. still, it would be a shame to miss out on an invitation from a friend because of it. 
besides, reo’s bargain of offering to buy your outfit was too tempting to let go. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“practice was rough,” bachira murmurs, flopping on the sides of the soccer field with a sigh. his sweat causes his hair and clothes to cling to his skin, and isagi takes a seat on the bench beside his best friend, tossing the dual-tone haired his water bottle.
wiping the sweat off his forehead, isagi agrees with a hum. “i know. i just want to go home.”
“i don’t know how rin does this, staying overtime and all of that.”
“he’s insane. it only got worse after his breakup and everything.”
bachira frowns, looking over to where the dark-haired in question is standing. “i feel bad for rin-rin, seems like he’s not taking it well at all.”
a beat of silence passes before bachira speaks again. “you know y/n’s coming to reo’s party this weekend?” 
the black-haired wipes his mouth before setting the water bottle down. “really?”
“yeah. reo told me.”
“that’s nice, it’s been a while since we’ve seen y/n so it’d be nice to catch up.”
“i wonder if rin knows.”
“i doubt it,” isagi reassures, “he hardly goes to parties like the one reo’s throwing.”
“maybe that’s why y/n agreed in the first place.”
“probably.”
a cold voice suddenly cuts the two from their conversation “y/n’s going to reo’s party?” 
isagi feels his blood cool over before looking up. there, stands itoshi rin, who has a frazzled, yet equally determined look in his eyes, one that isagi has not seen in a while (not since you left). “what? no! where did you hear that from?” 
bachira laughs nervously, “you’re hearing things, rin-rin!
but they are soccer players, not actors or professional liars. “shut the fuck up, asshats. y/n’s going to reo’s party this weekend?”
the two exchange a look and their silence is the only answer rin needs. 
“hold on, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” isagi asks, accepting defeat and now switching tactics.
“why wouldn’t i? my partne-” he pauses. “y/n is gonna be there.”
“yes but-”
“-you can’t stop me from going, so don’t even think about it.”
without another word, rin is gone, stalking away with a scary determination that was previously dormant. 
“what did we just do?” bachira mumbles. “should we tell y/n?” 
“nah.”
“agreed.”
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
you should have never come to this party.
how stupid and foolish of you, but how utterly cruel of the universe to let you hurt like this, to let the same pain that has walked all over you for the past few months return; this time ramming into you with the ferocity of a bull, knocking the air out of your lungs
“y/n!” comes the dreaded call of your name. you walk a little faster, breaking into an-almost sprint.
“y/n!” 
“for fucks sake- y/n!” this cry of your name is broken, rasped and pathetic, and your chests clenches from how pained it sounds. like a howl from an injured wolf, it is broken enough for you to pity it, luring you into a trap that will inevitably end in chunks being torn from your heart, but you don’t have much left to spare, so you keep running, no matter how badly you want to give in.
except it’s not enough to deter rin, nothing ever be when there’s a goal in sight, especially one so close that he can taste it.
“y/n, please, i need to talk to-”
“-go away, rin!” you cut him off, hugging yourself tighter to shield yourself against the cold and rin’s pleas from piercing you. 
“not until you listen to me!”
fury powers you, igniting you with the courage to turn around and finally face him. you don’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze elsewhere, but he shuts up nevertheless, awestruck by finally being able to see you face-to-face after being so long away from you. all words die on his throat, withering away to nothing as his eyes slightly widen in shock.
you’re just as beautiful as the day you left; perhaps even more so.
rin wonders if your radiancy was birthed by his absence, and if the answer is ‘yes’, he might wither away on the spot.
“it’s always about you isn’t it?” you shout. “always about what you want and never about what others want. you said you wanted me to leave, so i did! what more could i possibly give?” 
he gulps, utterly entranced as his heart makes itself known in his chest, racing wildly and vividly; the first indication that it was alive and hadn’t been replaced by a gaping hole in your absence. he hasn’t felt this human since you left. 
“i didn’t mean for you to actually leave,” rin confesses shakily. 
“well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stay either.”
“no, that’s not-” he falters. “it’s… not the same without you.”
you hug yourself tighter. “i don’t believe you, you’re just saying that now that there’s nobody to warm your bed.”
“no, it’s not like that- i don’t like living without you,” the athlete continues, admitting something so heavy with such airiness.
“you can’t just say that after so long. not when you’ve been living without me months before we broke up.”
there are a million and one things that rin wants to say to you, but none of them break through the whirlwind that is his thoughts, rattling around in his brain on overdrive and overwhelming him with the intensity of them all. one thing he knows for sure is that you are the single muse behind all of them, the only thing that is keeping him sane amongst the flurry of disturbances.
then, you shiver from the chilly breeze of the night, and the whirlwind is silenced into oblivion to awaken a dormant instinct of his instead. one that commands him to fulfil a duty that he’s not inclined to do anymore.
quickly, rin takes off his jacket and holds it out to you, as if expecting you to take it. 
he drops it when you don’t, hope dwindling in his stomach.
swallowing weakly, he then asks “would you ever give me a second chance?”
“you’ll hurt me again,” you glance away, the street lamps highlighting the melancholy in your profile as rin observes you closely. his eyes outline the curves of your face, each divet and slope that he used to trace with his hands now out of his reach. “you take and you take, but you never give and i’m so tired of it.”
“don’t say that,” he pleads, voice barely louder than a whisper as the dark-haired takes a heavy step towards you. “you’ll break my heart.”
“i shouldn’t love you anymore, you’re bad for me.”
“then i’ll be good- i’ll become whatever you want me to be-”
“-we won’t work like that.”
“we’ll work as long as i’m yours again, just, let me fix us, i’ll do whatever it takes. i’m not giving up like this.” 
the first tear makes herself known and paths the way for your downfall like a tsunami, washing away whatever you had built up during your time away from itoshi rin; the good and the bad. the hurt and the healing, all undone by a singular, stray tear. in your vision, he becomes nothing but a blur, a kaleidoscope of colours that you once loved.
a kaleidoscope of colours that you still love, much to the chagrin of your broken heart. 
a hand wraps around your wrist, a warm shackle that grounds you to rin like he’s your lifeline. no matter how bad you want to push him away, something in you will always bend to him. 
“don’t cry,” he pleads, voice airy and breathy. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry.”
please don’t cry because of me.
“i don’t want to be with you if it means i need to go through all of that again.” you whisper, slipping out of his grasp like sand and wiping away your own tears, rejecting his callous and prickly touch. 
rin’s world dims as panic seizes his throat. “please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”
“i do though. you left me first, don’t you know?” 
“-i do.”
“and now i’m not yours to care about anymore-”
“i know, i know,” words are merely spilling out of his mouth without much purpose at this point, because he’ll do anything just to delay you leaving, to push back the possibility of you turning around and never seeing you again. why did he have to break who he loved so much? 
still, he pleads for another chance, desperation shining in his eyes as pure longing fills him. you have always been too good to him, he knows, but like the tumultuous tides and their inability to stray too far from the shore, rin will come back to you with his undying devotion. 
even if he thinks you should find someone better than him, that you should be adored by someone who could love you so much better, he can’t let go. to let you go is to let go the one good thing that came to him in life, 
you exhale shakily. “we’ve loved each other for too long.” 
“what do you mean?” he stutters, eyes widening helplessly. 
“i have loved you too much for too long, rin,” you choke, “there has to be an end to us somewhere in sight- you need to accept that.”
“no,” his look of absolute devastation causes a physical recoil in your stomach. “no- not long enough, it’ll never be enough, fuck- even forever won’t be long enough, i can’t let you go like that.”
he crosses the distance between you in the blink of an eye. you can’t see him clearly under the dim light of the night, but you can feel him, so close and so overwhelming, but so cold as his hands come to grasp yours. his grip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his determination. 
tears dance along his lashline. 
“please, tell me you’re still mine,” begs the dark-haired. rin’s tears are diamonds, in which they are precious, but they also crumble into a precious waterfall that rolls down his cheeks, tempting you towards his beautiful ruination. 
words continue to tumble out of him, each one sharpened to pierce your defences. “tell me that we’ll be fine, that i’m all you want, please. i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you, but please don’t leave me. 
i’ll fix us, i’ll become everything you need, i’ll be good.”
the dark-haired’s hands find their way to your face, cupping each side of your jaw with a scary gentleness; one that you’d never expect from someone as ragged as itoshi rin. 
“i love you,” he declares, so raw, so full of passion that it makes you sick. the rin you know never lets his heart on his sleeve like this. 
you cave. “how will you fix us?” 
slowly. he’ll rebuild everything that you have given him.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
first, rin takes you out on dates again. calls you beautiful and really means it.
second, rin leaves practice at regular times, and listens when you tell him that he needs to take care of himself. because for you, he will. 
third, rin picks you up from work. his practice ends a little earlier than your job, so he always goes the extra mile to be there for you at the end of the day. even if you tell him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so, he’d rather see you get home safe than only receiving a mere text of confirmation. 
plus, it gives rin more time with you.
fourth, rin sends you regular gifts. from bouquets, to random items that he just knows you’d like, they all get left at your door at the best times. 
fifth, rin lets you set the pace. you wanted things to go slow so that you two didn’t have to force anything back in place. no point recreating something that’s in the past, you reasoned, so might as well try again.
sixth, rin takes his time in welcoming you back into his space. it’s a few months after you two have reconciled, and majority of your items are back where they belong (you poked fun at him for not being able to throw away the stuff you did leave, and he just mumbled something indecipherable, all embarrassed, before moving on). the life has been restored in his apartment, now filled with more remnants of you loitering around his space: your various chargers and laptop, your products, your clothes, they all sit beside his things like that’s where they are meant to be.
and you are back in his arms, because it is where you are meant to be (more for his sake than yours).
rin stirs awake one morning under the gentle light of the morning sun and you’re there beside him, occupying the space that he has left devastatingly empty. mattress still curved to your frame as he never dared infiltrate it, in hopes that you would return.
now that you have, you feel too warm, too familiar, too unreal that he wonders if you’re just another dream of his. 
then, you stir, and press yourself closer against his chest, face to face with the heart that only beats for you.
a stray tear rolls down rin’s face; a salvation for the utter relief he feels, as well as the overwhelming amount of adoration that he stores for you. his ‘i love you’ is sweeter than the chirping of the birds outside, and certainly more meaningful as he wraps more of himself around your sleeping figure, hoping to attach all of him to all of you. 
you’re home. he won’t let you leave again.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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babybutchianthe · 7 months ago
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↑ i am constantly thinking abt this reply because it is deeply reflective of the general attitude i see displayed toward palamedes, and camilla too, wherein people seem to assume that they are inherently more rational and comparatively unbiased as a whole when compared to everyone else. they are treated as if they are comparatively free from the same confines of thinking that affect other characters; they are characterised as a shining example of a truly equal necromancer-cavalier bond, of loyalty and love, and are treated as if they are perfect geniuses who can do no wrong—an attitude i feel very much inclines people to romanticise their devotion & treat paul's birth as a victorious thing.
@dve i feel summarised this phenomena the best: "i think cam and palamedes are nowhere near as revolutionary as a chunk of the fandom would like for them to be". i'd even go as far as to say that, in their role as foils to gideon and harrow, they are meant to showcase just how damaging the necro-cavalier dichotomy is to the individuals involved. i've spoke on this before but the bond is explicitly modelled on the example of john & alecto—which is already not ideal—and was built on a foundation of deception, with john hiding the fact the lyctoral process did not necessarily have to end with the death of the cavalier: the sacrifice of the cavalier is baked into it, because the history of cavaliership is indelibly tied into the avoidable deaths of the first cavaliers.
the equality ascribed to their bond is based on their seeming inversion of the exploitative nature of the necro-cav bond—compared to silas' siphoning colum, it seems improbable to say that they are anything but true equals who break away from the model, revolutionary in nature. they are devoted to each other, endlessly loyal! to the point camilla will violate the wishes and autonomy of palamedes in the name of her devotion.
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camilla frames the fact she cannot sustain both of their souls in her body as her being weak, as opposed to being a product of the reality maintaining two souls in a single body the way they are doing is extraordinarily difficult and unnatural, doing herself a disservice in the process, because in her eyes she is failing in her duty to him.
his presence in her body is killing them both, and she frames this as [their] choice, but then wants pyrrha to lie to him about the fact it's killing her: meaning his choice would be based on her exploiting his absence in this moment, on a deception.
they can't keep this up forever, it is killing them both, but camilla's devotion to him means she won't accept that and doesn't want to give him reason to vacate her body. she wants pyrrha to lie—even though it's killing him too!—because she doesn't want to let him choose to let her live at the cost of his own life.
her death is avoidable but her role and her duty is to die for him, to sacrifice, to hold the sword for her necromancer. she won't let him, the necromancer, choose the cavalier's life because it is intended to be used by him—a soul to be eaten. she won't let him choose, violates his wishes and autonomy in the name of her devotion to him; i personally don't think equality in a relationship is based around denying the other their autonomy and lying to them, do you? and in this moment, camilla is treating herself as expendable, their inevitable death as inconsequential because it prolongs palamedes for as long as possible.
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palamedes, conversely, has a very interesting perspective on lyctorhood:
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he presumes that the original lyctors, the first necromancers and their cavaliers, sought to merge themselves from the start and that they achieved this incompletely. he posits the existence of true lyctorhood; palamedes views two becoming one, one being two, as something admirable, a truth not yet seen—grand instead of petty.
we also see somebody else who expresses a similiar belief in a perfected lyctorhood, one of the original lyctors, mercymorn the first:
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the original lyctors did not seek out to merge with their cavalier, their other half in necro-cav terms, and only did so as a result of a lie, the idea of a one-way energy transfer. from mercymorn's perspective true lyctorhood is a process that preserves the cavalier; from palamedes' perspective true lyctorhood is a process that merges the cavalier and necromancer to form something new, the truest response to the call of "one flesh, one end" yet seen. palamedes' conception of lyctorhood is removed from the original context of lyctorhood's formation, and is shaped heavily by the ideals of the society he and cam were raised in.
If the cavalier and the necromancer do not take "one flesh, one end" as a maxim for their passion for each other, their bond is nonexistent. They must each take the other as their ideal. […] Their love is the love that fears only for the other: the love of service on both sides. Some have tried to characterise this relationship as the cavalier's obedience to the necromancer, but the necromancer must be in turn obedient to the needs of the cavalier without being asked or prompted: theirs is arguably the heavier burden. — Tamsyn Muir, A Sermon on Cavaliers and Necromancers
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suffice to say, i do not think paul is a defiance of the empire's ideals, so much as a perfected expression of them; paul is the embodiment of the love of service on both ends, the product of a mutual death. their choice to die as two to become one was exactly in line with what a necromancer and a cavalier are intended to do.
"One flesh" is the underpinning of our whole Empire [...] One end is one empire. — Tamsyn Muir, A Sermon on Cavaliers and Necromancers
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mayaree-darling · 1 year ago
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Water... Connoisseur?// Neuvillette
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synopsis: Neuvillette shares his love for water tasting with the Creator (ft. Paimon and the Traveler)
from aree: this was supposed to be a short funny little thing but as always i can’t keep my mouth shut and now this is 17 pages long
content: Creator!Reader; smol spoiler(?) for and inspired by Neuvillette's story quest and profile/voice over; Reader and the Traveler (and Paimon) have Siblings Energy; I headcanon that the Traveler can see their inventory the way us players can; Pure Crack; Probably OOC Neuvillette
fic length: ~5.3k 
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You are the Creator of Teyvat, spending time with the Traveler, Paimon, and Neuvillette. At one point, the Iudex offers for the four of you to take a break in his office and he'll fetch you some refreshments. Almost immediately, you see from the corner of your eye the Traveler and Paimon stutter out that they'll get the drinks themselves, but it's too late. You didn't see what was wrong with Neuvillette offering something to drink - if anything, you're curious to know what kind of drink he'd prepare for his guests. This was your first time tasting what Fontaine had to offer. So you let him go. 
When Neuvillette leaves the room, the traveling duo beside you share a heavy sigh. You turn to them and ask what's wrong. They share a meaningful look. You'll see, they say.
Eventually, Neuvillette comes back rolling a small food trolley in front of him. On top are four silver pitchers and four goblets. Paimon sheepishly laughs, "Here we go."
You step forward - because it's clear to you Traveler and Paimon have no plans on taking initiative - and Neuvillette motions to the pitchers. 
"Each one is from a different nation. I hope that you'll find at least one of them to your tastes, Your Grace. I assure you they are all of high quality, although I have no doubt of it since they are a part of your creation, after all. Personally, I can't say I favor one over the other. I find each one particularly special in its own way, so I must apologize if I cannot give you a recommendation." 
You frown. You... made them? You don't remember something about creating a drink for each nation. Was this a recipe from your old life that only a dragon sovereign could remember? The Traveler clears their throat and mumbles something under their breath. You turn to them questioningly and you watch bemused as their mouth ticks up at the corners.
"It's water." The Traveler looks at everything in the room before their eyes land on you.
You blink. "Excuse me?"
"Haha.. It's just water... The drinks..." If Paimon was standing on solid ground, you think she would be bouncing on the balls of her feet, her arms behind her. When she meets your eyes, she lets out a sheepish laugh. "That's what Neuvillette means by they're from every nation. They're... spring water from different places."
You slowly look at the Traveler and Paimon in turn, hoping for a deeper explanation or for them to tell you they were pulling your leg, but both of them refuse to look you in the eye. Your mouth is opened to a permanent gasp of understanding as you turn back to the food trolley in front of you.
Oh...
"Is there something wrong, Your Grace?" You almost regret looking at Neuvillette. Although he doesn't usually show his emotions, it's almost like he can't help but show you how dejected he looks. To put it simply, it felt like you kicked an otter to the curb, sad puppy eyes and everything. You half expect it to start raining outside that instant. "I can arrange for the Melusine to make something else, if you'd like. I'm sure they'd be honored to -"
"NO! No. It's okay. It's fine, Neuvillette. Thank you for the offer, but it's fine." You shoot a frown at the duo, who have taken to plastering themselves on one of the many sofas in the room, intent on letting you handle the water situation. You breathe in and take a step forward, taking one of the goblets. "You said each one is special, right? I'm sure they'll taste... nice..."
You pointedly ignore the Traveler as they grumble once more (you pretend you didn't just hear Paimon say "no it won't"). You look at each of the pitchers and pretend to be thinking hard about your choice. It's kind of hard to make a choice now that you know they're all just water. Your only saving grace is you know where they came from.
"I think I'll start off with... Sumeru!" Neuvillette all but beams at your decision and picks up the selected pitcher. You're glad he did because you didn't know which was which. You pray to Nahida that you didn't make a bad choice (the God of Wisdom has yet to fail you since your descent and you hope that she has your back this time, too.) Holding out your goblet, you watch as Neuvillette fills the cup half way, almost hoping there's a telltale sign of a difference (or it's a different drink altogether).
It's just water.
"A wonderful choice, Your Grace. This particular water comes from Apam Woods of Sumeru. You'll find the taste to be rich and complex. Despite usually having to take the time to savor it to fully appreciate it, I'm sure Your Grace will have no problem distinguishing its special flavor, which is unlike any other."
Did he have to put the pressure on you like that? 
You laugh sheepishly as you fight to give Neuvillette your best thankful smile. Taking back the goblet, you stare at your drink, deciding your best bet was to examine it if you were going to "savor" it. Maybe it was a different color? No, it's still translucent in nature. Swirling it a few times, it doesn't appear to have a thicker viscosity as it sloshes around your cup. As for the smell it was- 
Wait. Huh?
"It's fragrant," you mumble. Only when you hear yourself clearly do you realize the room is silent. Looking up, you see Neuvillette staring at you, and behind you, even the Traveler and Paimon have taken an interest in your exchange. All eyes are trained on you, watching your reaction. You look back to Neuvillette as he lets out a hum.
"It's... fragrant? I must say, even I have never thought to discern its smell. For a moment, please," Neuvillette steps forward and takes a goblet for himself, pouring water from the same pitcher. He pulls the goblet up to his nose. "Hmm. As I thought. It seems I am unable to smell this fragrance you speak of. How interesting."
"Wait. If you can smell it..." You turn to Paimon as she looks at the Traveler. When they look at you, their eyes are expectant.
Surely, you can...?
Looking at Neuvillette, he gives you an encouraging nod. You raise the goblet to your lips and take a tentative sip. And then another. And then... another? You lower the goblet, and then turn to the Traveler.
"It tastes like flowers." You know you and the Traveler share the same incredulous look. You can just feel the disbelief and confusion pulling at your face. Looking at Paimon, she's just as confused, head in her little hands. "When I focus on it, it's floral. Kind of like... tea? Like herbal tea, just less strong. It could even be perfume."
"Marvelous," you look at Neuvillette, and it's clear to you he does not sense the growing bewilderment you and the other two are going through. He smiles at you softly, and you don't have the heart to tell him that water isn't supposed to have a flavor. "I don't seem to recall anyone else sharing my taste for water. But I must say - even I am unable to perfectly put a name or a description to the flavor I experience. It's almost always a feeling."
"WAIT! Waitwaitwaitwait! I wanna try, too!" Paimon rushes to your side and takes your goblet in her hands, ready to drink it. You hear Neuvillette clear his throat and turn to him as he fills the other two goblets with Sumeru water. Paimon lets go of your goblet and goes to take one for herself. You see the Traveller stand up and grab one too. "Is it different from the one we had before? Wait, but it's from the Apam Woods, too..."
The Traveler and Paimon take a big gulp at the same time, licking their lips and savoring the taste before eventually they click their tongues in unison.
"Nope." The Traveler laughs, almost amused and defeated at the same time.
"Nothing's different. It's the same water as last time!" Paimon stomps her little feet in the air. "Are you pulling Paimon's leg?"
"Of course not. However, I am curious. If it is fine with Your Grace, I would love to hear more about what you can taste," If you were honest, you didn't want any more of the spotlight on you - being the Creator, you've had enough of that. But Neuvillette seemed so happy in the moment you couldn't possibly refuse him. 
"Well, besides smelling and tasting like flowers," you take a sip, letting it roll on your tongue. "It also has this sort of herby aftertaste? But only when I focus on it. Kind of like basils? Or rosemary? I can't tell you for sure what kind, but it kind of tastes like that."
When you turn back to them, you're surprised to see Neuvillette looking at you in confusion. Did you say something wrong?
"He doesn't know what those are, dummy," The Traveler sighs. You watch as they take a metal shaker out from their inventory and start preparing a drink of their own. Paimon watches on, excited of drinking something that wasn't just water. "They don't have those here in Teyvat, remember?"
"Traveler, I implore you to watch your words. Was it necessary to call Your Grace as such?" Neuvillette frowns. 
The Traveler shrugs and you both share a secretive smile. "They prefer that over 'Your Grace', though."
Neuvillette turns to you with concern. "Is-is that true, Your Grace? Why would you prefer that name? I can't quite say I agree with that decision but- "
"It's fine, Neuvillette. I forgot you didn't know any of those herbs, so I'm sorry for that. Just know the water tastes like it has a bit of herbs or spice to it." You shake your head with a laugh, thinking of a way to change the subject. "Anyway, can I taste the other ones?"
Neuvillette almost visibly lights up at that and takes another of the pitchers, filling your emptied goblet with more water.
"This one is from Inazuma's Konda Village. For its mouthfeel, I find it quite placid." Neuvillette looks at you expectantly. You're reminded again of a puppy, or in his case, an otter. A very cute otter. As you put the goblet to your lips, you have half a mind to gift him a seashell.
You take a sip and almost immediately spit it out. In an instant, Neuvillette is by your side, throwing the goblet halfway across the room. Before you realize it, you're in his arms and he has half a mind to bolt out the room to get you to a healer until you stop him.
"WAIT! Wait, Neuvi, just calm down-" you descend into a coughing fit.
"Your Grace! What's wrong? Is it poison? Were you poisoned?! Oh no, Paimon can't look-" 
"That's preposterous. I prepared the drinks myself," he says that, but Neuvillette talks like he's suddenly doubting himself. 
"You sure you don't need to get healed?" the Traveler frowns in concern, turning your face this way and that, looking for signs of poisoning.
You shake your head again and swallow down another cough, clearing your throat. "No, no, I don't need a healer. I wasn't poisoned. I just wasn't expecting to suddenly take a shot of sparkling water." 
The Traveler blinks, there's a pause as it sinks in, and suddenly they stand up and head back to the food trolley. They pick up the shaker they unceremoniously left when everyone panicked and resumed making their drink.
"Traveler, are you gonna make medicine for the Creator?" Paimon floats around you in concern. 
"You guys can stop panicking. They're not gonna die," the Traveler sighs and looks at you with a face that can only be described as 'Are you for reals.' "I think they were just surprised with how the water tasted."
You motion for Neuvillette to let you down, which he does albeit very hesitantly. You merely laugh at the concern on his face and give him a pat on the back to reassure him that no, the Creator was not going to die on his watch just because of a bad drink of water. 
The Iudex frowns hard looking at the pitcher of Inazuman water. "You called it... sparkling water? Pardon me if I'm wrong, but am I to assume water from Inazuma has different visual properties? Does Your Grace see something we are unable to? And if so, does this difference have an effect on the taste?" 
You shake your head again for what seemed like the thousandth time, before you stop and think about it for a second. You head to the food trolley and pick up Paimon's empty cup. Pouring Inazuman water from the pitcher, you watch as normal looking water fills the goblet. The normal fizzle of bubbles you expect from a carbonated drink is not present, even as you swirl it around. 
Before Neuvillette can stop you, you take a sip of it again. You hear him stifle a gasp. His hand is on your shoulder, ready to bring you to Sigewinne at record speed if needed. But you weren't mistaken - it really does taste like sparkling water. Weird. You turn to Neuvillette and try to look as reassuring as possible.
"So, back from... where I came from, we have this drink called sparkling water. It's not that it was particularly, uh, sparkly, but it did have a lot of bubbles. The water from Inazuma here looks like regular water, but it does feel like sparkling water in your mouth," you explain slowly. The look of doubt doesn't leave Neuvillete's face. "It's also not deadly for us, just like how this water isn't. I mean, you like drinking it, right? That means it's fine for consumption." 
He visibly eases up at your words. He reluctantly lets go of your shoulder with a shaky exhale. You kinda feel bad for making him so worried. Eventually, you watch as he calms down from the panic earlier and suddenly he's back to his stoic self, unable to resist his interest in your water tasting experience.
"So this so-called sparkling water... what does it feel like? May you explain? I'm afraid I cannot quite imagine it." Neuvillette looks to be deep in thought and you laugh softly. He really was into water tasting. 
"Oh? Paimon thinks Mondstadt has something similar."
The Traveler pauses from taking a sip of their new drink - Boreal Watch, you remember it's called - before opening their inventory. They scroll through a list of ingredients before taking out a single bottle. The bubbling liquid is a familiar sight. "They call it Fizzy Water. I used it to make drinks at Angel's Share once. Feel free to drink this, Monsieur Neuvillette. Master Diluc gave it as a freebie."
Neuvillette takes the bottle with a nod of thanks. He examines the packaging for a moment, pops the bottle open and takes a swig. There's a pregnant pause before he turns his back to you, takes his goblet and spits out the drink into it out of your line of sight. The three of you don't have to look at each other to know the expression the others have; Paimon sounds like she's close to tears from holding in her laughter. 
When Neuvillette turns to you again, you give him a small smile, ready to comfort him, before he drops to his knee in front of you. You try to pull him up by his arms but he just holds on to your hands.
"Your Grace, please allow me to apologize for making you go through that."
"H-hey, I didn't mind you literally spitting it out, come on now, I basically did the same thing if not worse-"
"No. Not that, Your Grace. I also apologize for that, yes, but I refused to swallow that drink down no matter the cost." He's staring at you dead in the eyes and he looked so serious it was unnerving. "I'm apologizing for letting you drink the water from Inazuma. Had I known that is what you would experience, I would have skipped offering it to you as a refreshment." 
"Please stand up. Don't worry about it. It's not that big of a deal," you pull on his arms again and he doesn't resist, standing back up. "I told you it's a normal drink from where I'm from, right? I was just shocked because I wasn't expecting it."
"Do you mean..." Neuvillette visibly cringes, much to your amusement. "People from your old land... like? To drink it? How... eccentric."
"So do those from Mondstadt, Monsieur Neuvillette," you turn to the Traveler in disbelief that they'd say that right now, but all they give you back is a devious grin peeking from atop their cup as they take another sip. "Dawning Dew was a bestseller."
Paimon clears her throat as she collects herself. "It's kind of funny that Neuvillette can't feel the fizziness when he's drinking? He said that he can feel what he drinks, not taste it. Paimon wonders what's up with that."
"What's Konda Village water like for you, again?" you hum.
"If I had to put a word to it," Neuvillette thought about it for a second. "Placid."
"Placid? That's one way to describe something." Paimon shrugs. 
"Yes, that was how I would have described it," Neuvillette shoots a glare at the bottle of Fizzy Water and another concerned look at you. "After current events, I can't quite say the same."
Paimon was right, though. Placid was definitely a different way of describing things. Placid meant... calm? Or tranquil? You definitely didn't think that's how you'd describe Inazuma. Wait, Inazuma? And that feeling of sparkling water...
"Is it possible... You think it's 'placid'... because your mouth has gone numb?" you gape at Neuvillette.
He stares back at you blankly. The silence in the room is deafening. 
“Maybe… don’t drink that for a while. Not until you’re ready again,” you offer.
“Agreed.” Neuvillette nods stiffly. 
“Alright!” you clap your hands and turn back to the food trolley. “What’s next?” 
To your surprise, Neuvillette’s hand wraps around your wrist as you manage to grasp the next pitcher's handle. He looks just as surprised as you do that he’s holding on to you. 
“Neuvi…llette?” you blink at him.
“Forgive me, Your Grace,” he lets go like he was burned, but he doesn’t exactly move away. “But we can stop here if you so wish.” 
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean to say is,” Neuvillette coughs into his fist, thinking hard about his next words. “Although I wish to learn more about the different tastes Your Grace can experience, I must admit I am unable to guide you nor accompany you in your journey, per say. Should there be something wrong with the following water samples, I can only watch and listen like the others, but not help until much later.”
You nod slowly. 
“It means he’s concerned, dummy,” a voice calls out from behind you and you roll your eyes.
“Yeah, I kind of got that, thanks for the heads up,” you groan.
“If I am honest,” Neuvillette’s voice is soft, you’d even be confident to say it’s like he only wants you to hear. “I feel like a scientist watching my latest test subject. Fascinated, and yet should a problem arise, useless.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” you frown at him, but the expression easily slides off your face when he faces you (damn those sad otter eyes). Eventually, you offer him a soft smile. “If I really considered this as life threatening as you think, I would have stopped after the first pitcher. But I’m genuinely having fun, alright? So don’t worry too much about it.”
He doesn’t look quite convinced. You have been telling him to calm down a lot this entire time. When he opens his mouth to dissuade you, you beat him to it.
“I should thank you, you know.”
“Excuse me?” Neuvillette gapes at you. “I almost rushed you to a healer just a moment ago, Your Grace. I have done nothing to earn your gratitude.”
“That’s the thing, though, thank you for taking care of me this entire time, Neuvillette. You’ve been looking out for me every time we’re together, so thank you,” without thinking it over, you close the distance between you two and hug him. When you pull away, he’s intent on not looking you in the eye. “Thank you also for introducing me to water tasting. Never thought the day would come but here we are. It really is quite fun.”
“I see…” Neuvillette says, before abruptly turning around, giving you a clear view of his reddened ears. “Pardon me for a moment, Your Grace. I just… need to recollect for a moment.” 
Before you can say anything else, he leaves your side and goes to get your goblet he threw earlier in a panic. He kneels down and picks it up, but instead of heading back towards you, he just sort of holds it, turning it around in his hand mindlessly. You watch, jaw slightly open, until you feel a presence behind you. 
“I think you broke him.” 
You turn to the Traveler with concern. “Yeah I think so, too, should I be worried?” 
You both turn to Neuvillette, seeing he’s still busy with his goblet, before looking back to each other.
“I bet 500 mora he’ll go back to normal if you make yourself another drink.” 
“It’s not really a bet if we agree on the same thing, though?” 
You clear your throat, hoping to catch Neuvillette’s attention as you turn to Paimon. “Paimon, mind if I borrow your cup for now? We can share if you need it.”
“No, that’s okay. Paimon’s had enough of water. Paimon will share with the Traveler!” Almost on cue, the Traveler offers their drink to Paimon. 
The moment you lift the next pitcher, Neuvillette is by your side in an instant, your goblet and his safely set aside for washing later. “May I do the honors, Your Grace?” 
You offer your goblet as he holds up the pitcher. He pauses.
“Promise me we’ll stop if things get… awry.”
You smile. “You said it yourself, right? This is water prepared by the Iudex himself and made by the Creator themselves. I don’t doubt for a second that it’s not safe.” 
Neuvillette shares your smile softly before pouring the water into your goblet. Third time’s the charm, right? You take a sip and… raise an eyebrow.
“It’s salty. Huh.” you take another sip. “Sort of metallic, too. That’s pretty close to the same thing but, yeah, I’d say it’s rather salty.”
“Salty? That’s quite strange.” Neuvillette double checks that he’s holding the right pitcher. “This water is from Liyue, particularly from Qingce Village. I know of the water from Liyue to have an enduring aftertaste, but I must say I was not expecting it to be salty.”
“Me, too; for Liyue I was kind of expecting it to have an earthy kind of taste. Whatever that tastes like, I don’t know, but I was ready for anything besides this,” you take another sip. “Can’t say it’s all that bad, though. I feel like I’m at a beach.”
“Only if you’re actively drinking the sea water.” 
You don’t even bother looking behind you. “I said it ‘felt’ like. I didn’t say ‘taste’ like. Get your facts straight.”
Looking up at Neuvillette, you realize he’s only watching your reactions. He smiles softly when he finds your attention on him. Not wanting to be the only one “enjoying” the drink, you offer your goblet to him. He looks at you, slightly alarmed, but when you make no move to take the goblet back, he reluctantly takes it. He turns away from you as he drinks. 
You hear the Traveler clear their throat behind you. When you go to look, their eyebrows are raised at you. They look to Neuvillette and then to you before scoffing. Oh… was it that intimate an action?
“A-anyway,” you clear your throat as Neuvillette hands the goblet back to you. There’s a small pleased smile on his face. “What do you think of when you drink water from Liyue?” 
“For me,” Neuvillette closes his eyes for a few seconds, careful of what to say next. “I always thought it had a poignant touch to it.”
“Poignant?” What did you think of when you thought of poignant? Swirling the water around your cup, you recall a story quest. Liyue, salt, and water are key factors in its plot. A sad smile overtakes your features. “Ah. Yes, I guess poignant would be a good word for that. Salty is the right word, too.”
Neuvillette tilts his head to the side at your sudden change in demeanor. “Your Grace?”
“It’s nothing. Just thought I’d visit an old friend sometime.” you tilt your head back as you down the rest of the cup. “Anyways, I think I need something else to wash that off.” 
“Ah, yes. I suppose that does come with consuming salty foods.” Neuvillette nods. “Would you like a different drink? Something aside from water, I mean.”
“Actually, water is good for washing off salt, so I thought I’d ask for more water.”
He holds up the last silver pitcher. “We have Mondstadt left, if you would like to give it a try right now.”
“How would you describe it?” you ask, but you’re already holding out your goblet.
“This particular batch is from Cider Lake.” Neuvillette fills your goblet a little more than usual, most likely to fully cleanse the salt from your palate. “Besides having a crisp and clear feel, I also find that it warms the heart.”
“Oh, wow, guess Venti’s got it nice going for him,” you lift the goblet to your lips and drink.
“I’d be bold enough to say it’s the only thing nice going for him.”
You almost spit out your drink for the second time this day. You turn to look at the Traveler, but they’re busy having a debate with Paimon. That means that the person who said that was-
Neuvillette takes the goblet from your hands and drinks. When you look at him, jaw hanging open still from disbelief, you watch as the corners of his mouth tick up.
“Are you allowed to say that?” you whisper. The Traveler and Paimon don’t seem to have heard, but you sure as hell did.
“I just did, did I not?” He offers a small smile that borders on innocent if it wasn’t so conspiratorial. “I have faith that the Creator will not spread rumors about me, I hope.”
You don’t know if you’d still call it a rumor when he so blatantly did it in front of you, but you end up laughing. You put both hands up as a show of surrender. No way in hell were you telling on the dragon sovereign of Fontaine.
“So, as for our final drink,” Neuvillette offers the goblet back. “What do you make of water from Mondstadt?”
You make a show of finishing the cup all in one go. “Out of all the ones we tasted, I think this has got to be my favorite so far.” 
“Oh? Is it that good?” Neuvillette watches you keenly, awaiting for more details. 
“Yep. It tastes like water.”
Neuvillette chuckles softly, but when you simply offer him a smile, his smile drops. “You… are not joking?”
“Nah. It’s exactly as you say - it’s crisp and clean. It’s how water tasted like back from my world,” you hum in delight. “It doesn’t remind me of anything else but the pure taste of water. Can’t put my finger on whether it’s distilled, mineral, or tap water, all I know is that it’s water for me.” 
“Hmm. Although I want to say it’s rather an anticlimactic ending, I can’t say so. I leave today with the knowledge that there is still a water sample we can similarly taste.” Neuvillette smiles to himself once more. “But that’s enough of that. I believe I’ve put you through enough for today, Your Grace. Thank you for entertaining me and my hobbies.”
“I had fun! Make sure to call me next time you get a new sample, I’d love to have a taste.” You beam at him.
Neuvillette stares at you for a moment - was he waiting for you to tell him it was just a joke? Sure seemed like it - before his smile was back, relieved. You can almost see his little otter tail waving around. “Of course. I already look forward to it.” 
“Are you done now?” 
You take a step back as Paimon suddenly steps into the middle. Her little frown does little to make you feel bad. If anything, it has the opposite effect and you laugh. Her frown deepens at you as you rub her little head. 
“Yeah, yeah, we’re done. We can get a meal now.”
“Woohoo! We're getting meals, plural. Where are we going to eat? Paimon wants some Fontainian Foie Gras!” you follow the fairy as she heads out the door, excited for the prospect of food. And then you pause as you remember.
“Ah, wait. Before we leave. Just one more thing.”
You head back to the food trolley and grab Paimon’s goblet. You make a beeline for a corner in Neuvillette’s office. You noticed earlier there was a small drinking fountain. Gathering enough water into your cup, you take a sip. You turn to Neuvillette.
“Oh my gosh, it’s sweet.”
==✿==|✧••❀••✧|==✿== 
❀BONUS❀
The Traveler and Paimon share an exasperated sigh for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past week. Ever since the water tasting incident, the Creator and Neuvillette have taken to going around Teyvat, trying out different waters straight from the spring of each nation. 
"Why do we have to visit each nation? Paimon thought you could just have them delivered straight to your office!" Paimon leans on the Traveler's head, tired from floating around so much. 
"Appreciating the nation from which the drink came from is part of the experience, Paimon." Neuvillette swirls the water in his goblet, offering it to the floating fairy, who only takes a look at it before cringing away.
The Traveler and Paimon share another look. They know he just likes the opportunity to bond with the Creator over their appreciation of water.
"Are we going back home after this?" Paimon groans.
"I can make you some Sticky Honey Roast if you guide us to Snezhnaya?" You take another sip from your goblet, one made from pure magical ore.
("Your Grace deserves only the finest things, even if it's only dinnerware and the likes," said Neuvillette. "I may also add that a traveling merchant said that drinking from a crystal goblet highlights the taste of the refreshment, as it is free from the taste of metal usually found in a standard cup." You don't mention that you notice he has a matching goblet, right next to a pile of books on his desk. Embedded on it is a familiar seashell.)
In an instant, Paimon is by your side, eyes glittering with determination. "If you cook three Sticky Honey Roasts for Paimon, Paimon can take you to Kh'aenriah."
You lower your goblet and hold out a hand. "Two. And I'll throw in a Squirrel Fish if you find a lake where we can drink from."
"Deal." Paimon takes your hand and you shake on it.
The Traveller flops to the ground and sighs.
They knew they were going to be the one to look for that lake.
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✨ Masterlist ✨
Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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ylangelegy · 2 months ago
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⋆.˚ childhood best friend ♡︎ chan.
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── .✦ the one where bang chan learns what 'home' means. #우리의_찬란한_청춘_방찬에게 #BrightestStarBangChan
✰ gn!reader, idol!chan, fluff!!!, angst 🙁, childhood best friends, long distance friendship, homesickness, hurt/comfort, ambiguous romance [pining/crushes], open ending. end notes included! ❤︎ all sfw. intentional lowercase. wc: 1,800+
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🧸 childhood best friend chan who moves in next door, who came from seoul to sydney and was scared he wouldn't meet anyone his age.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who is the only one to attend your birthday party. he flashes you a grin and tries to cheer you up by saying, "that just means more cake for us!"
🧸 childhood best friend chan who introduces himself as christopher— but you can call him chris, he says hastily. he knows his full name is too long. you assure him no, it's okay, you'll call him christopher. he rewards you with another one of his signature dimpled smiles. the first of many.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who spends most of his summers with you. his next door neighbor, his new best friend. he tries to teach you how to play soccer. you burn songs you think he'll like on to CDs. the two of you learn to bike down your street. see? you both still have the scars to prove it.
🧸 childhood best friend chan whose fondest memories with you are set in beaches. you're both still too young to surf, so you kill your time trying to outswim each other. it's a tender rotation of portraits— hands sticky with fruit-flavored ice cream, sand in your slippers, the smell of sunscreen.
🧸 childhood best friend chan slash guitar teacher. you spend one too many evenings out on his porch with his beat-up acoustic guitar. as his fingers gently guide yours over the strings, you consider romance. but for only a moment. because you'd rather have him like this than risk not having him at all.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who sticks to your side at school. everyone thinks you're dating; the two of you give up on correcting peers. chan doesn't quite understand why he's so happy to have people assume, and why he's even happier to have you acquiesce.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who tells you, first, about what he plans to do. "it's just an audition," he tells you, but you already know. you already know what he's destined for, who he's going to be, as early as then.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who practices his bruno mars audition song with you over and over and over again until you forget what the original version sounds like. nowadays, whenever you hear just the way you are, it's only ever in the voice of thirteen-year-old christopher.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who calls you up excitedly, who only says two words. "i'm in," he breathes, and there's so many things you can say in that moment. of course you are, and i never doubted you, and you're leaving me?, but instead you settle on, "i'm proud of you."
🧸 childhood best friend chan who doesn't cry at the family dinner. doesn't cry at the airport. he laughs when you tear up, teases that you're being silly. think of it as summer camp, he tells you, and when he hugs you goodbye, his hands shake just a teensy bit.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who cries on the plane— because at least, there, no one who loves him will see.
🧸 childhood best friend chan slash trainee who keeps in touch. he texts a lot in those first couple of years. you'd like this café. these cherry blossoms look really good. dance practice today was tiring. you learn to read between the lines; he is saying i miss you, but he cannot say the words themselves, because then it becomes real.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who never misses a birthday, whether its yours or someone in your family's. shipping fees are too stressful and so he perfects the art of long-distance gift-giving. here, an 8tracks playlist. here, a digital flipbook. here, a video of him singing your favorite song.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who gets busy, who gets frustrated, who watches dozens of trainees debut before him. you try your darnedest to sympathize but there is only so much that you can know about this industry, about his lifestyle.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who never blames you. how could he? he made his choice. but still. but still. there are days, weeks, months, where he forces himself to keep his distance. because this is a whole other kind of hurting— saying goodbye and knowing that the door is still left open a crack.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who watches your life in pictures, in the squares of instagram photos, the tagged posts on facebook. you graduate high school, and then uni. you work part-time jobs. you finally learn how to surf. and he is proud, and he is hurt, and he is yours, still, in ways that neither of you can comprehend.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who, after being distant for what feels like forever, extends an olive branch in the form of a follow request. finstas are only just becoming a thing in his part of the world. every trainee has one. the first person he thinks to follow is you.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who starts reacting to your stories, who replies every so often. your haircut looks nice and how's your mum? and wow, that part of town has changed a lot. it's all so stilted, all so polite, but he's trying, he's trying, he's trying. he needs you to see that.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who finally calls you one evening to tell you everything. you are horrified by what he's gone through, by all the times he's been passed over, but chan reassures you. even as you apologize, again and again, for not knowing.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who tells you, "i chose this. i want to keep choosing it. but—" a beat. then, softly, the words he's held himself back from saying. "i just miss you, that's all."
🧸 childhood best friend chan who slots right back in to your life. he's still plenty busy. at least now he knows that you're always just one message away, that you'll appreciate his updates of i met another aussie today or there's a new day6 song or i can finally stop dieting.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who excitedly tells you about 3racha. about his genius lyricist j.one and his killer rapper spearb. his own moniker is plain and simple, he says with a laugh. cb97. but it's him, it's his, it's a start.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who sends you the first demo of a song he's genuinely happy to have produced. my heart is in your hands, he jokes in the e-mail subject line. j.one is good. so is spearb. but chan, cb97, your christopher, who sings "i'd like to start off this speech with a 'thank you' to everyone that helped little chris to grow up"? he's everything.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who tells you in vague terms that he might not be reachable for some time. there's a lot of things he wants to tell you, wants to divulge. there are other people on the line, now, though, and so he holds back. you understand. you tell him you'll wait. he is so, so grateful.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who is introduced as the leader of JYPE's newest boy group. he is not christopher or chris. he is chan, now. bang chan. you watch the survival show with his family. you give them a handwritten letter for him, when they go to visit him in south korea. you see him become everything he said he would be.
🧸 childhood best friend chan whose hair is two-toned dirty blonde and aqua blue when he debuts with hellevator. you buy his photocard. you still have it up in your room; it makes him cringe, but he is secretly pleased that you cared enough to do such a small thing.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who bears the weight of impossible expectations. leader, producer, idol. son, brother. friend. he is so many things all at once. they say he is too much. they say he is not enough. he doesn't know who to listen to.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who blames himself for things that are beyond his control. for 2019. for 2020. for 2021. for— there isn't a year where chan isn't blaming himself for something, really.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who finds comfort in the smallest of things. a noisy dorm with seven other boys. the thrill of turning a note in to a living, breathing song. you. your little updates. you. your easy responses. you. your unwavering support. you, you, you.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who wonders often sometimes what it would have been like if he stayed.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who can see it so, so clearly. the college you would have both gone to. working at the record store; busking in the mall. summers of surf and sun. your fingers fitting in to the spaces between his.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who thinks he would have been happy with that life. happier than right now?... he's not sure. all he knows is that he would have been happy. the two of you could have been so happy.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who often sometimes feel like his youth was taken from him. his teenage years were spent as a trainee; his early twenties were spent fighting for every scrap. he doesn't regret the choices he made. he doesn't want to. he can't.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who doesn't tell you any of this. a part of him doesn't have to. you know just how much he gave up. you know just how much he gained. you know why there are certain encores that make him cry, why there are songs he can't bear to perform live. why it's always so hard for him to name 'home' nowadays—
🧸 childhood best friend chan who wants to believe that 'home' means sydney. who, to make things easier, says 'home' is seoul. who will sometimes say that 'home' is STAY, 'home' is stray kids. who knows, deep down, that home is a three-letter word of y-o-u.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who, when he makes his way back to sydney, is scared shitless. he's been gone for so long. it's an endless litany of 'what if's. what if berry doesn't recognize him anymore. what if all his favorite restaurants have shut down. what if you realize you don't like the person he's become. what if, what if.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who is only partially reassured when he realizes there's still a spot for him at the dinner table, when his old friends don't treat him any differently, when the path to the park still feels familiar.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who realizes that all of his worries are unfounded when you greet him with "long time no see, christopher." not chan. not chris. christopher.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who smiles the same way that he had when he first met you. all bright eyes and dimples.
🧸 childhood best friend chan who holds out his hand, waiting to see if you'll take it.
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✰ i think a lot about a line in The Myth of Sisyphus, where it goes something along the lines of "one must imagine sisyphus happy." in some way, this is me #coping (lol). one must imagine bang chan happy. because maaan, does he deserve it. happy birthday, chris.
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dragon-kazansky · 7 months ago
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Fifteen - Rhythm of our hearts
♡♡♡
Daphne, the beautiful duchess, had spent her time in London wisely. She used what sorces she had to help Marina Thompson track down her far away love.
You still had not seen much of Daphne. She had been quite busy, and you were really starting to miss her presence. You had hoped to catch up with her at some point, but you would just have to wait for the next opportunity to present itself.
The concert. You were all dressed up to go. Your mother had been gushing about this. Lord Hardy was going to be in attendance, and according to your mother, he had asked about you only a few days prior. You put on your nicest gown and prettiest jewellery for the occasion.
Who knew? Perhaps something would spark.
There was also the fact that the queen would be in attendance tonight.
When you arrived, the atmosphere was wonderful. You arrived on your mother's arm, and you smile at some familiar faces. You spot the duke and duchess, and you wonder if tonight you may get the chance to talk to Daphne.
Benedict is stood by himself drinking champagne as he watches the gentleman talking to Cressida. He was at the studio. With Henry.
Then he spots Granville and approaches him. Henry turns toward Benedict. "Bridgerton."
The two excuse themselves from the others to talk elsewhere.
"I would simply like to understand your... situation." Benedict says.
Henry sighs softly.
"I would just like to understand."
"It is simple. I am in love with Lord Wetherby." Granville tells him.
"You're married." Benedict points out.
"And our marriage affords my wife her freedoms and protections," Henry explains. "It is a happier union than most of the people in this room have, I assure you."
"What is the advantage for the young ladies Lord Wetherby is courting?" Benedict asks. "Do they all share this understanding?"
Henry chuckles.
"What about honour? Romance?" Benedict continues.
"What would you know of either?" Henry asks in return. "We live under constant threat of danger. I risk my life every day for love. You have no idea what it is like to be in a room with someone you cannot live without... and yet still feel as though you are oceans apart. Stealing your glances, disguising your touches. We cannot so much as smile at each other... without first ensuring no one is watching."
Benedict is silent.
"It takes courage... to live outside the traditional expectations of society. You talk of doing the same... but perhaps it is merely just that... all talk."
Henry Granville walks away.
Benedict is left with his thoughts. As he lets all that sink in, he catches a glimpse of you across the room. For a moment, he feels his chest fill with warmth. He thinks about approaching you, but then he sees Lord Hardy.
You're smiling.
Benedict remains where he is stood and watches quietly. Alone.
A second son without a mark on the world, and now no companion to confide in. Nothing was coming up roses for Benedict Bridgerton.
Inside the concert hall, you take your seat beside Lord Hardy. Your mother sat on the other side of you, keeping her eyes focused on the crowds, allowing you time to talk to your companion.
You smile as he speaks to you. His voice is smooth, and you rather like the way he says your name.
Benedict is stood by the door watching you. It seems your evening is occupied, so much for stealing you away this evening. Then again, perhaps that is for the best. Benedict isn't sure his thoughts are put together tonight.
Eloise comes up beside him looking rather desperate. "How long is this concert?" She asks her brother.
"About three hours... Four?"
Eloise looks less than pleased.
"Though, uh, I certainly have already heard enough," Benedict says, glancing your way briefly.
"You are my favourite brother. Do you know that?" Eloise says, smiling at him.
He chuckles and takes his sister's arm. The two leave the concert hall.
You don't see him go.
♡♡♡
The two siblings sit in the carriage quietly, heading home. Eloise is caught up in her thoughts. She thought she was on a secret mission from the queen to discover Lady Whistledown's identity, but tonight, the queen had brushed Elosie off and stated she had hired people to do the job for her.
Benedict was lost in his own mind, too. He was thinking about you. He had hoped to pass the evening pleasantly by your side. The concert itself was nothing of any actual interest. You both could have talked quietly, enjoying each others company.
Yet it seemed you had made up your mind. Your pursuit to find a husband was possibly baring fruit. Lord Hardy seemed a nice enough man, he supposed. Benedict didn't know too well, but je certainly seemed to have your attention tonight.
So, Benedict should do something to enjoy his evening, too. A thought comes to his mind.
He reaches up and taps on the top of the carriage. "I woul like to make a stop and pick up a friend."
Eloise looks at her brother. "A friend?"
"Should I not have a friend?" He asks her.
Eloise chuckles.
"I'm not bound by the rules of society," he tells her. "Please do not tell mother."
Eloise scoffs softly in amusement.
The carriage pulls up outside the modiste. Eloise looks at the shop front with confusion. "Why are we here?"
Genevieve climbs in.
Eloise looks at her brother.
Genevieve looks at Eloise, surprised to see her.
"This is my sister, Eloise, and we will be dropping her at home," Benedict says.
The carriage moves again.
Silence fills the air.
"How was your night, ma chérie?" Genevieve asks.
"It was... everything I expected. Horrible and terribly boring."
"So this is why you do not wish to lower your hems?" Genevieve chuckles.
"The entire ton were there, and I did not have a single worthwhile exchange." Eloise tells her.
"The entire ton? You mean, everyone except for the Featheringtons?"
"Yes, everyone except... them." Eloise is struck with a thought.
Eloise falls silent.
"Is everything well, Eloise?" Benedict asks.
She looks up at him. "Hmm? Yeah."
Eloise looks at Genevieve again.
♡♡♡
The concert has begun. You and Lord Hardy look up at the stage as the music plays. Your arm rests next to his.
The and duchess have a box. Neither of them look at each other.
Violet sits in a box with Anthony. She looks across at her daughter. Anthony casts his eyes down to the people below. He sees a family face.
Tonight is filled with all kinds of feelings from everyone around the room.
The orchestra was rather good.
Lord Hardy keeps his head bowed low, close to you, so he may exchange words with you quietly. You smile as you respond to him.
Perhaps tonight will change things for you after all.
The duke reaches for his wife's hand. She smiles softly. The music continues to play, and then she looks down. The duke wat he's her. Her eyes meet his, and she looks at him. She flees the box.
Her courses have come.
Violet flees her box to go see Daphne.
Fingers curl around your gloved ones. You look down to see him holding your hand. You lift your eyes to Lord Hardy. He smiles at you and then turns his eyes back to the concert.
Your mother sits straighter in her seat.
Yes, tonight, there are many emotions being felt. Some hearts are breaking. Some are yearning. Yours is racing.
You are glad you came.
♡♡♡
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starlight-bread-blog · 9 months ago
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Ember Island Players and Zutara
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Two approaches to analyzing literature are Doylist and Watsonian: Warsonian is about analyzing from an in-universe perspective, Doylist is about analyzing out-of-universe perspective.
For example: Why did the Gaang arrive at the swamp?
Watsonian: Because a hurricane made them crash.
Doylist: Because the writers wanted to explore the world & characters, foreshadow Toph, introduce plant benders, etc.
This analysis will be from a Doylist perspective. Meaning, I don't intend to prove Katara secretly canonically loved Zuko. She is a fictional character, she'll love whoever the writers want her to love. And the writers said she loved 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀. What I do intend to do is to show how the writing alluded to Zuko standing in 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀's way to being with Katara.
With that out of the way, let's dive right in!
At the beginning of the episode, when they sit down to watch the play, Zuko and 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 share this exchange:
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If you didn't catch that, look at Katara:
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This is a classic romance trope, typically used for female characters, to signify romantic feelings/a crush. But what is it doing here, when Zuko sits next to Katara instead of 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀? What is this interaction doing here in the first place?
When an episode aims to explore an aspact of the characters, it will remind the audience of it in the beginning. In The Waterbending Scroll, Katara steals a waterbending scroll and gets insecure about her waterbending. The episode opens with the Katara teaching 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 waterbending and getting insecure. In this instance, they want you to keep in mind the dynamic where... Zuko is in the way of 𝖪𝖺𝗍𝖺𝖺𝗇𝗀? (That's without mentioning what Katara's doing with her hair). That is strange.
Moving on to the play – See the joke about Katara's characterization in the play:
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The point of Ember Island Players is while the play is heavily distorted, it is somewhat based on reality. It's funny and even gets under the character's skin sometimes because it shows them a parody of themselves. (Further evidence).
When we get to the the scene between Zuko and Katara in the Crystal Catacombs, for some reason, it's portrayed as some romantic moment.
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Acknowledging a fan pairing in canon from is always out of the blue/baity from the get-go. I cannot recall a time when another show that did this. Here however, it's under the premise of somewhat founded parody. Which begs the question:
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(Side note: There's been debate over Katara and Zuko moving away from each other. It's common for eventual romantic leads to deny attraction. It could be contextualized that way later and audiences aren't trained to rule out the pairing. The meaning is dereminted by the outcome).
Despite that, Katara and Zuko aren't in love. Everyone knows this, right?
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𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 is jealous. Jealous to the point where he gets up and leaves the theater. The thing that kicks off the conflict of 𝖪𝖺𝗍𝖺𝖺𝗇𝗀 is... Zutara?
Speaking of the conflict, I won't dwell on it too much, but the events were the following: 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 adressed the kiss they shared in the invasion, a kiss that went unaddressed for 5 episodes. Katara is unable to commit to an answer. Her lines, isolated:
"𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀, I don't know" // "This isn't the right time" // "Right now, I'm just a little confused".
Until he kisses her once again.
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And realistically, she doesn't take it well. Many girls use this language to reject gently. This is purposely written to suggest that they might not end up together. All of which is kicked off because of Zutara. Remember the beginning: Zuko is in the way of 𝖪𝖺𝗍𝖺𝖺𝗇𝗀.
When 𝖠𝖺����𝗀 is back in the theater, he's concerned about his future with Katara. It is showcased with this shot:
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𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 isn't angry at Zutara here, so why is Zuko in the shot? A director storyboarded this, it was planned. They could have easily leave him out of it and it would convey the message better. Leaving him here implies that he is somehow related to the conflict, That Aang is worried about them, while both of those things aren't true.
𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 not being able to sit next to Katara isn't ship baiting. 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 getting angry at actress!Katara not returning his feelings isn't ship baiting. Katara herself being unable to immediately return his feelings isn't ship baiting. What is ship baiting is how all of this is caused by Zuko to a degree.
Zuko stealing 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀's seat and Katara giving him a side glance is ship baiting. Zutara being canonically addressed in a play that's vaguely founded is ship baiting. The former causing 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 feeling jealous, leaving, and starting the conflict over it is ship baiting. Zutara is imbedded in the foundations of the episode. Ember Island Players plays out as if there is something between Zuko and Katara, when there isn't. That's ship baiting.
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mxthtea · 6 months ago
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On Sunday We Rest
sunday x gn reader warnings: cuddling, a single kiss, literally laying on top of sunday, grammar + spelling mistakes, tell me if i forgot any! word count: 808
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𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝
Sunday, despite his name, cannot take a break for the life of him. You know this, his sister knows this, Gopher Wood probably knows this but chooses to ignore it. However, except for Mr. Gopher Wood, everyone who knows this about Sunday is practically begging him to rest. It's all for nothing though. Any concern you voice or reminder in a letter that Robin sends is just pushed away from the Halovian with a little chuckle and a reminder that he'll be fine.
You know that Sunday doesn't care for himself. It's irritating, truly. He spends so much time in the Dreamscape trying to make it perfect for everyone within it, trying to make everyone's worries wash away once they rest in the dreampool. Sunday sees himself as the sacrificial lamb though. After all, for everyone to truly be at peace, someone must bring everyone to that peace. Your boyfriend has taken that sole responsibility onto his shoulders.
Knowing all of this, seeing how much he has been working, missing when you two would spend together, you made a plan. A simple one. One that would force Sunday into taking a teeny tiny day off.
And today's the day you'll make him rest.
The night before you had coaxed Sunday into sleeping on the actual bed in your guys' shared room and not staying in the dreampool to be within the Dreamscape. With words saying how you haven't been able to hold him close to you in some time so you missed it.
You lay awake on the bed, groggy and stretching out your limbs. While you fell asleep with your arms around Sunday, it seems you've separated through the hours of unconsciousness. Now detached from each other and Sunday facing to the door instead of at you. You set an alarm to wake up before Sunday usually does, to ensure that you could catch him instead of sleeping through it all. Turns out you picked the right time to wake up.
You feel the mattress move as Sunday stirs. A yawn falls from his mouth and you can see his wings do a little stretch as his arms go above his head.
Now is the time for you to enact the plan.
You roll over and lay yourself on top of Sunday, effectively pinning him down onto the mattress. If pinning could be defined by… well, laying on someone and putting your weight on someone. Not exactly holding them down per se.
Sunday's breath catches in his throat as your weight is suddenly pushed onto his body. He lets out an exhale a second later. He props his head up to look at you clearly. A small smile dances on his lips, he quirks his brow and looks to you.
"Good morning dearest," a hand reaches up to hold your cheek. His smile widens when he feels you lean into his touch.
"Morning, dove," you trade nicknames to each other.
Your arms find their way wrapping themselves around Sunday and tucked beneath him. Your head moves to his chest as you keep yourself on top of him.
"Now, dear… I'd love to spend more time with you but-"
"Nope."
Your words are clear and cut through anything else that Sunday was going to say. He stutters for a moment trying to grasp at any logic or reasoning in what you've said. You smile cutely against his chest, kicking your legs on the mattress like school girls do in other galaxies. The sight of Sunday being at a loss for words is something very few people are afforded.
"I really should get to work soon-"
"Day off," you interrupt him again, propping your chin on Sunday's chest and looking up at him.
"What?" a simple question. One that Sunday asks to try and understand what the hell you are saying.
"You have the day off. Requested it and it's been approved. Today is our rest day together."
"You- what?"
Taking out your phone, you show the calendar to Sunday. Today clearly being marked as a day off for the both of you.
"See?" you point to emphasize the date, "day off. No work. Rest only."
Sunday lets out a chuckle of disbelief at what you've done and lays his head down on the bed, "dearest… you are going to be the death of me."
You scoot yourself up a bit to be closer to his face, "too bad. Today's a rest day and you can't die on a rest day. I won't allow it."
"Alright. I get it. Today is a rest day."
Sunday relinquishes to you and relaxes into the mattress again, submitting himself fully to the rest day. You kiss his neck gently as you see his tired eyes close.
Just a few more hours… then you two would get up and get something to eat.
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