#this will also not help either me or anyone else

[ash-pile]

I have pots and faint regularly so if it helps here’s some of my experiences in no particular order:

- You can faint multiple times in quick succession, it sucks and is really disorienting. Especially if you haven’t recovered/are still disoriented from the previous one.

-Often when you come back to consciousness you only process that there’s things happening. It’s not a logical thing or detailed at all, just ‘are my senses sensing?’ But on an instinctual level rather than any higher level functioning (think gut feelings).

-On that same theme, usually I get senses back one by one, for me it’s usually hearing, touch, sight and then anything else. Though if you bite your tongue/cheek in the fall you’re likely to taste that pretty fast

-Sometimes your body can go tense or shake and it looks like a seizure. For bystanders it’s super scary to watch someone go down and suddenly look like they’re having a seizure.

-I often will try to warn someone if I feel it coming and barely make a sound/think I’m saying to when really I’m already out. Usually it’s something like: “I’m gonna-“ they tried to say, the words dying off before any proper sound could form, eyes fluttering shut as they dropped.’

-A note about how you move when it happens: if you’re sitting in something that rolls, it *will* move, if you’re standing, your torso falls first and takes everything with it (usually the head rolls backwards at the same time) and it’s super easy to land in a way that strains muscles/joints

-Sometimes I have warning, sometimes I don’t, if I do have warning it’s usually just a few seconds that I have to use to sit down, if I don’t then I’m out before I can actually presses what’s happening. Only able to understand once I’m back to consciousness and someone explains what happened and I can piece it together.

-Different surfaces to fall onto can either make it better or worse. Concrete and gravel are by far the worst I’ve fainted onto, tile is super cold and cold can be a shock to wake up to making it even more disorienting.

-Also depending how long you’ve been there/how bad of a shock it was you could be drooling/having wet yourself or landed in a puddle or you were carrying a drink/food it probably spilled too and got all over you. All of which are mortifying to wake up to, especially if you aren’t around anyone you trust well.

-People are surprisingly heavy. If someone tries to catch you and is not prepared, they could fall over too. Or if you fall onto something that’s not meant to hold your weight it could break and potentially injure you.

The Anatomy of Passing Out: When, Why, and How to Write It

Passing out, or syncope, is a loss of consciousness that can play a pivotal role in storytelling, adding drama, suspense, or emotional weight to a scene. Whether it’s due to injury, fear, or exhaustion, the act of fainting can instantly shift the stakes in your story.

But how do you write it convincingly? How do you ensure it’s not overly dramatic or medically inaccurate? In this guide, I’ll walk you through the causes, stages, and aftermath of passing out. By the end, you’ll be able to craft a vivid, realistic fainting scene that enhances your narrative without feeling clichéd or contrived.

2. Common Causes of Passing Out

Characters faint for a variety of reasons, and understanding the common causes can help you decide when and why your character might lose consciousness. Below are the major categories that can lead to fainting, each with their own narrative implications.

Physical Causes

Blood Loss: A sudden drop in blood volume from a wound can cause fainting as the body struggles to maintain circulation and oxygen delivery to the brain.

Dehydration: When the body doesn’t have enough fluids, blood pressure can plummet, leading to dizziness and fainting.

Low Blood Pressure (Hypotension): Characters with chronic low blood pressure may faint after standing up too quickly, due to insufficient blood reaching the brain.

Intense Pain: The body can shut down in response to severe pain, leading to fainting as a protective mechanism.

Heatstroke: Extreme heat can cause the body to overheat, resulting in dehydration and loss of consciousness.

Psychological Causes

Emotional Trauma or Shock: Intense fear, grief, or surprise can trigger a fainting episode, as the brain becomes overwhelmed.

Panic Attacks: The hyperventilation and increased heart rate associated with anxiety attacks can deprive the brain of oxygen, causing a character to faint.

Fear-Induced Fainting (Vasovagal Syncope): This occurs when a character is so afraid that their body’s fight-or-flight response leads to fainting.

Environmental Causes

Lack of Oxygen: Situations like suffocation, high altitudes, or enclosed spaces with poor ventilation can deprive the brain of oxygen and cause fainting.

Poisoning or Toxins: Certain chemicals or gasses (e.g., carbon monoxide) can interfere with the body’s ability to transport oxygen, leading to unconsciousness.

3. The Stages of Passing Out

To write a realistic fainting scene, it’s important to understand the stages of syncope. Fainting is usually a process, and characters will likely experience several key warning signs before they fully lose consciousness.

Pre-Syncope (The Warning Signs)

Before losing consciousness, a character will typically go through a pre-syncope phase. This period can last anywhere from a few seconds to a couple of minutes, and it’s full of physical indicators that something is wrong.

Light-Headedness and Dizziness: A feeling that the world is spinning, which can be exacerbated by movement.

Blurred or Tunnel Vision: The character may notice their vision narrowing or going dark at the edges.

Ringing in the Ears: Often accompanied by a feeling of pressure or muffled hearing.

Weakness in Limbs: The character may feel unsteady, like their legs can’t support them.

Sweating and Nausea: A sudden onset of cold sweats, clamminess, and nausea is common.

Rapid Heartbeat (Tachycardia): The heart races as it tries to maintain blood flow to the brain.

Syncope (The Loss of Consciousness)

When the character faints, the actual loss of consciousness happens quickly, often within seconds of the pre-syncope signs.

The Body Going Limp: The character will crumple to the ground, usually without the ability to break their fall.

Breathing: Breathing continues, but it may be shallow and rapid.

Pulse: While fainting, the heart rate can either slow down dramatically or remain rapid, depending on the cause.

Duration: Most fainting episodes last from a few seconds to a minute or two. Prolonged unconsciousness may indicate a more serious issue.

Post-Syncope (The Recovery)

After a character regains consciousness, they’ll typically feel groggy and disoriented. This phase can last several minutes.

Disorientation: The character may not immediately remember where they are or what happened.

Lingering Dizziness: Standing up too quickly after fainting can trigger another fainting spell.

Nausea and Headache: After waking up, the character might feel sick or develop a headache.

Weakness: Even after regaining consciousness, the body might feel weak or shaky for several hours.

4. The Physical Effects of Fainting

Fainting isn’t just about losing consciousness—there are physical consequences too. Depending on the circumstances, your character may suffer additional injuries from falling, especially if they hit something on the way down.

Impact on the Body

Falling Injuries: When someone faints, they usually drop straight to the ground, often hitting their head or body in the process. Characters may suffer cuts, bruises, or even broken bones.

Head Injuries: Falling and hitting their head on the floor or a nearby object can lead to concussions or more severe trauma.

Scrapes and Bruises: If your character faints on a rough surface or near furniture, they may sustain scrapes, bruises, or other minor injuries.

Physical Vulnerability

Uncontrolled Fall: The character’s body crumples or falls in a heap. Without the ability to brace themselves, they are at risk for further injuries.

Exposed While Unconscious: While fainted, the character is vulnerable to their surroundings. This could lead to danger in the form of attackers, environmental hazards, or secondary injuries from their immediate environment.

Signs to Look For While Unconscious

Shallow Breathing: The character's breathing will typically become shallow or irregular while they’re unconscious.

Pale or Flushed Skin: Depending on the cause of fainting, a character’s skin may become very pale or flushed.

Twitching or Muscle Spasms: In some cases, fainting can be accompanied by brief muscle spasms or jerking movements.

5. Writing Different Types of Fainting

There are different types of fainting, and each can serve a distinct narrative purpose. The way a character faints can help enhance the scene's tension or emotion.

Sudden Collapse

In this case, the character blacks out without any warning. This type of fainting is often caused by sudden physical trauma or exhaustion.

No Warning: The character simply drops, startling both themselves and those around them.

Used in High-Tension Scenes: For example, a character fighting in a battle may suddenly collapse from blood loss, raising the stakes instantly.

Slow and Gradual Fainting

This happens when a character feels themselves fading, usually due to emotional stress or exhaustion.

Internal Monologue: The character might have time to realize something is wrong and reflect on what’s happening before they lose consciousness.

Adds Suspense: The reader is aware that the character is fading but may not know when they’ll drop.

Dramatic Fainting

Some stories call for a more theatrical faint, especially in genres like historical fiction or period dramas.

Exaggerated Swooning: A character might faint from shock or fear, clutching their chest or forehead before collapsing.

Evokes a Specific Tone: This type of fainting works well for dramatic, soap-opera-like scenes where the fainting is part of the tension.

6. Aftermath: How Characters Feel After Waking Up

When your character wakes up from fainting, they’re not going to bounce back immediately. There are often lingering effects that last for minutes—or even hours.

Physical Recovery

Dizziness and Nausea: Characters might feel off-balance or sick to their stomach when they first come around.

Headaches: A headache is a common symptom post-fainting, especially if the character hits their head.

Body Aches: Muscle weakness or stiffness may persist, especially if the character fainted for a long period or in an awkward position.

Emotional and Mental Impact

Confusion: The character may not remember why they fainted or what happened leading up to the event.

Embarrassment: Depending on the situation, fainting can be humiliating, especially if it happened in front of others.

Fear: Characters who faint from emotional shock might be afraid of fainting again or of the situation that caused it.

7. Writing Tips: Making It Believable

Writing a fainting scene can be tricky. If not handled properly, it can come across as melodramatic or unrealistic. Here are some key tips to ensure your fainting scenes are both believable and impactful.

Understand the Cause

First and foremost, ensure that the cause of fainting makes sense in the context of your story. Characters shouldn’t pass out randomly—there should always be a logical reason for it.

Foreshadow the Fainting: If your character is losing blood, suffering from dehydration, or undergoing extreme emotional stress, give subtle clues that they might pass out. Show their discomfort building before they collapse.

Avoid Overuse: Fainting should be reserved for moments of high stakes or significant plot shifts. Using it too often diminishes its impact.

Balance Realism with Drama

While you want your fainting scene to be dramatic, don’t overdo it. Excessively long or theatrical collapses can feel unrealistic.

Keep It Short: Fainting typically happens fast. Avoid dragging the loss of consciousness out for too long, as it can slow down the pacing of your story.

Don’t Always Save the Character in Time: In some cases, let the character hit the ground. This adds realism, especially if they’re fainting due to an injury or traumatic event.

Consider the Aftermath

Make sure to give attention to what happens after the character faints. This part is often overlooked, but it’s important for maintaining realism and continuity.

Lingering Effects: Mention the character’s disorientation, dizziness, or confusion upon waking up. It’s rare for someone to bounce back immediately after fainting.

Reactions of Others: If other characters are present, how do they react? Are they alarmed? Do they rush to help, or are they unsure how to respond?

Avoid Overly Romanticized Fainting

In some genres, fainting is used as a dramatic or romantic plot device, but this can feel outdated and unrealistic. Try to focus on the genuine physical or emotional toll fainting takes on a character.

Stay Away from Clichés: Avoid having your character faint simply to be saved by a love interest. If there’s a romantic element, make sure it’s woven naturally into the plot rather than feeling forced.

8. Common Misconceptions About Fainting

Fainting is often misrepresented in fiction, with exaggerated symptoms or unrealistic recoveries. Here are some common myths about fainting, and the truth behind them.

Myth 1: Fainting Always Comes Without Warning

While some fainting episodes are sudden, most people experience warning signs (lightheadedness, blurred vision) before passing out. This gives the character a chance to notice something is wrong before losing consciousness.

Myth 2: Fainting Is Dramatic and Slow

In reality, fainting happens quickly—usually within a few seconds of the first warning signs. Characters won’t have time for long speeches or dramatic gestures before collapsing.

Myth 3: Characters Instantly Bounce Back

Many stories show characters waking up and being perfectly fine after fainting, but this is rarely the case. Fainting usually leaves people disoriented, weak, or even nauseous for several minutes afterward.

Myth 4: Fainting Is Harmless

In some cases, fainting can indicate a serious medical issue, like heart problems or severe dehydration. If your character is fainting frequently, it should be addressed in the story as a sign of something more severe.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Quillology with Haya Sameer; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! While you’re at it, don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[caterkinnie]

I saw that your askbox was open. If i may, can you write a continuation of this ( Reader who cannot lie is put in an awkward situation...) with the rest of the dormleaders. It's so cute kasi eh. Also, can you include Rook, Sebek, and Jade in the place of Idia, Azul and Vil. Thx

Reader who cannot lie is put in an awkward situation...

❥ ⌗ Characters: Rook Hunt, Sebek Zigvolt, Jade Leech.

❥ ⌗ Tags: not really proofread. rook being silly. sebek being sebek. jade being cute<3

❥ ⌗ a/n: hiiiiii i started this blog when i was 15 and now im 18. crazy right???? happy new year!!!! sorry if its a bit awkward. its been a LONG time since I wrote for these characters.... tysm for your request!

Oh, it's Rook's fault this happened and he knows it.

You two were just having fun, he invited you to the forest just to walk around and relax. It was the sort of activity he'd love doing with you.

The two of you were completely alone, Rook loved to show you around his favorite hidden places, places that you imagine no one has seen before other than him….

And he was happy to do so, it was something you've done millions of times with him.

imagined he was hiding something, as his smile was a little bit too wide, his eyes were a little bit too mischievous. You knew when he was planning to mess up with you.

You were not expecting him to ask if you had a crush on anyone though.

“Eh?! What… Yes you do know him but…. ahh!! Yes, he's blond, why do you ask????”

He was giggling as he asked question after question…

What's his eye color? In what club is he? Is he from Pomefiore? How good is he as a hunter.

“Ah~ Mon cheri, don't get mad at me. I fear I know how you must be talking about… although, I imagine the feelings are reciprocated… Oh, such a beautiful expression you have!”

He has way too much fun with your quirk.

In this case, it wasn't directly to Sebek…

Lilia Vanrouge was extremely curious about you, as Sebek had never shown any interest in friendships with anyone. Let alone spending the amount of time he does with you, and even hesitating when he has to choose between aiding Malleus and having fun with you!

No one else had that effect on him, and you deep down knew it but… as a human, would he ever like you back? Would he feel ashamed to love you? Those questions plagued your mind, and stopped you from pursuing the kind hearted fae…

“What? If I like him…? ah… well… he's really sweet and- and…. Ah!!! Maybe a tiny bit but don't tell him!”

“AH?!?!?!”

And then you heard a loud scream of confusion from outside the door.

One you unfortunately recognized instantly.

Lilia chuckled as the door was bursted open, and Sebek was in front of you, his face was red… he wanted to say something… but something weird happened… He was at a loss for words!

You tried to explain yourself but…

“FOOLISH HUMAN! It's- it's bad manners to speak of someone behind their back! If….. If you wished to… If you wished to talk about those feelings, you must have told me directly, IF NOT THEN HOW COULD I PROPERLY COURT YOU?”

You were trying to impress Jade, but maybe you should have gone with a letter or some kind of book about fungi…

You've never cooked octopus before, and the cooking book wasn't helping at all either!

It seemed easy in theory… but you've tried it a million times and it still is not something you'd want to give to him!

He has really exquisite tastes! And if you mess it up maybe you'll mess this chance with him…

Or maybe you're overthinking.

Right as you were tried to finish the dish (which you were unsatisfied with the presentation and overall taste) you heard a chuckle from behind you.

“My, my… Are my eyes seeing this correctly? Who are you making this for?”

“...Of course it's for you.” No, dang it!

“And why, may I ask? what's the occasion?” His voice had a confused pitch, but his smirk gave it away. He was extremely amused by your attempts.

“....I though… maybe I could gift you this and then ask you out on a date….” No!! Why did you say that????

“...Fuhuhu… You're overcomplicating it… Maybe next time we can try to do it together? I can give you a few tips as well…. since it seems you've been trying for a few days, that is…”

He knew all of this time?!

Wait, is that a date?!

Reblogs are appreciated!

[noxturnalmoth]

What Could Have Been

Silco, the Eye of Zaun, the Industrialist, was first and foremost a son of Zaun who wanted his motherland free. After an altercation in which his adopted daughter shot him in a fit of rage, he is left dying while the world goes on without him. His life's work and ideals soon trampled to nothing as his memory fades from the world. But what if he was saved?

Chapter 5: Children of Zaun

That night was strange. It had been nearly a decade since you shared a living space with someone yes, yet you adapted, but with Silco in your bed you felt restless. Not that his presence was making you uncomfortable, you just have never been so close to someone during this vulnerable moment, and if you had to choose you'd rather your partner be Silco than anyone else. And although you two had entered a rhythm, the boundary of sharing a sleeping space was never crossed, which made everything feel all the more intimate and domestic after the heart to heart the both of you shared that evening. Yet this was the best choice, you had left Silco your bed for months so he could heal and have a private space, then he gave if back to you so you could rest from your hectic life and dealt with the pain of couch rest until now, you two definitely deserved good rest without compromises.

You also feared that you'd be a bad bed partner due to your nightmares, thrashing, sweating and mumbling in your dreams before waking up with a scream. So, with you back turned to him you faced the wall, eyes wide open as you try to make sure he can rest, breath muted, your fidgeting body calmed.

"Rest."

"I can't."

Silco shifts, turning towards you before his hand takes the blanket covering you both and tucked it beneath your chin.

"Is this about your nightmares?"

So he knew, you nod. Just like you knew about his, bated breaths welcoming you from your nightly rebellion that led you up the stairs only to find him thrashing in your bed, not knowing what to do other than to softly lend him words of support as he slept before going to crash on the couch yourself. It happened many times, yet you didn't find it in yourself to ask, yet now that you knew the reason behind his nightmares you found the courage.

"You haven't been sleeping either, have you?"

"Not used to the proximity."

"Me neither.." You yawn out, exhausted but unable to sleep. "But I don't know what to do."

And you turn towards him, your eyes finding his in the dark and you huff out a small laugh, a sigh of his own heard harmonizing with you.

"Something I used to do when Jinx couldn't fall asleep was to brush her hair with my fingers."

"That's adorable."

"And it was all that could calm her down along with staying near me, sleeping on the couch in my office or in my bed if I went to sleep."

"That's even more adorable." He smacks your cheek gently to chastise you. "So what...I'll do yours and you do mine?"

"I'm going on the couch."

"No!" You shuffle as he does, catching his wrists in your hands and he huffs. "I can't let my favourite senior citizen hurt his back, who will help me at the shop if you're not here?"

His hand suddenly rests heavily on your hair and ruffles it, making you kick and smack at him weakly to "fight back".

"I'll be the last senior citizen you know if you keep that up, birdie."

"Birdie? I'm just a weak little fuckass bird?"

He chuckles. "Yes. I could've put it more elegantly, but your words have more impact I fear." And you laugh along, settling in a more comfortable position again, as does he with his hand still on your head.

Yours slowly reached up to his. Hand raking through the softer, wavier and longer strands, much more healthy than they had been when he first came in and with a bit more silver swirling in the ink black hair. His hand begins to move in similar patterns, scratching at your scalp softly, your eye drooping at the comfort of the warmth and motion, heart fluttering warmly at the ministrations.

"Shit, it might just work."

"Once more, goes to prove you're still just a kid." His voice teases, lowly and slowly as if your touch got him sleepy too, yet as you yawn and he chuckles, you can't help but feel like he's holding out better than you.

"Bite me gramps." Another yawn forces itself out of your mouth, eyes unable to open even if you wanted them to. And it wasn't long before you fell into deep sleep, your hand in his hair stilling, and when you awake due to a nightmare so does he from your movement. His hand back to caressing your hair, an arm around you to bring you to his chest, his warmth and movement making the paintful visions and sounds ebb away as it plunges you back into sleep. Yet as you wake up the next morning snuggling up to Silco, you realize he hasn't taken your hand away from his hair, and your arms from around him, his in the same place as they were when you first woke up.

"Who knew you were a cuddler?"

"Shit, my bad Silco." You take yourself away and shuffle back a bit in bed, refusing to leave its comfort yet creating a bit of distance between you and your friend.

Friend.

He is your friend. Him, Silco. Last night's memories are enough to have you purse your lips in order to hide a small smile. The soft voices talking of darkness in the silent evening, Piltover's lights overseeing you two from afar. The cold water freezing you from your legs to your head as you walk in the river and dip yourself, your proximity to Silco providing a bit of warmth to counter the bite of the Pilt. The soft laughs and banter shared on the way back, as if that baptism has truly shed your friend of his past like a snake stuck in his own skin finally freeing itself. In a way, you felt like a changed woman aswell, a lot of the doubts you felt around Silco now gone, replaced by the velvety smooth feeling of something new within your heart, the empty space left behind by the world now filled with one single thing.

Friendship.

Warm and beautiful like the soft crackling of flames. You hoped he felt the same, but with how his lips pursed similar to yours and his eye crinkled on its side, you knew he did. Albeit that domestic moment and the soft yet unfamiliar feeling of a blossoming friendship made last day worth it, after the strike team visited Zaun you knew things would only get worse.

And indeed, they did.

Within the span of two weeks enforcer outposts had been put in each level of Zaun, forcing people to identify themselves in order to pass through. Walls were put up to separate zones and neighborhoods, and small enforcer stations were around the corners of each important sector. Enforcers were ruthless and violent, now aided with Noxian soldiers around each corner, their cruelty knowing no limit. Their policies, or rather Piltover's policies, were thoroughly carved into Zaun and people quickly grew restless.

Your already limited freedom had been all but destroyed.

Clients had said Caitlyn Kiramman was at the head of all of this, Mel Medarda nowhere to be seen yet her mother Ambessa stoking the flames of war. Appearing everywhere a conflict was and somehow always making the best of it. It was not that surprising as she was Noxian, yet something foul felt at play here, it reeked of opportunism and schemes.

Speaking of schemes, more people came in with information, desperate to have someone do something about the growing injustice and civil unrest, and you were but one woman. And after a couple of months, you found yourself preparing to go for yet another restless night.

"Let me join you."

You turn around, coat in hand as you're about to leave to wreak some havok on some of the navy collared wardens that invaded your home. Your head tilts and eyebrows furrow at him in question.

"You've been leaving earlier and coming back later, working then fighting. I help you plan but you're all alone in those missions otherwise, so let me help."

"You want to fight?"

"Yes. When have I stopped fighting? The combat was just a different one, and now my friend needs me and I can't let her run herself into the ground." He puts his own coat on, sauntering towards you before unlocking the door, a hand splayed on the small of your back to make you move forward, the warmth sipping through your clothes and into your skin and making your stomach flutter. "Let's go, we've got some mayhem to cause, birdie."

You scoff, yet a smile grew on your face at his words. "Sure thing, fossil."

You two slipped in the streets, one with the shadows and silent like an owl's flight.

"What do you plan on doing then?"

"Explode barrels all around the entire zone to make enforcers leave their posts. Pillage their stations of important files, break their weapons, and leave them with a little gift." You reach into your bag for a grenade. "We'd link that to a trip wire. I took a page from your daughter's proverbial book and made a color bomb."

His eye widens and his lips purse as he swallows, his hands cradling and tracing the object.

"Why?"

"Well she's pretty good at pissing people off, and she's also your daughter. I guess I wanted to kinda remind you of her, pay homage."

His lips twitch for a millisecond and the corner of his eye softens.

"It stains indefinitely." You say maliciously, your voice dropping to a conspiratory whisper as you get closer to him. "And it's a stink bomb."

His chest jumps as he silences a laugh, the cold ocean of his teal iris warmed by mirth.

"Unwashable?"

"Oh they'll need to burn their uniforms and order new ones to get rid of the color and stench. Picked blood red, for symbolism."

He nods, smirking at you from his shoulder and you two separate, lighting bins on fire and shooting guns in dark alleyways to call forth the attention of enforcers, slipping past them. On your path you find yourself surrounded by a handful of Noxian soldiers, their armors thick red riddled with cracks, their stance strong yet too rigid against a Zaunite fighter such as yourself. Silco climbs up a gutter to get access to a roof as you get ready, stance low before you lunge at them like a feral animal, flipping and bouncing between them and the walls, delivering kicks and punches as you make them exhaust themselves. Their thick armors slowing them, and yet they have grazed you a few times with their blades, bruises blooming where they grabbed and hit you, they were indeed fearless and strong. With a few well placed kicks and punches you find yourself disarming one of them, the huge knuckle knifes knocked out of their hands, and you smirk while picking them up as you've found yourself turning the wheel in your favor. The weapons were hefty and could slice through bone, the blades half your height, and their power sensed from only wielding them. But as the enemy approached you had to stop admiring the craftsmanship and get back into position, the blades creating sparks as you ran at your adversaries. Each hit and slash given now had their strength multiplied, the heft of the knives and knuckles giving you extra speed on downward attacks aswell as more weight behind each attack, the blades helping with defence and offence as the knuckles were of aid to break their own weapons, disarm and deliver punches that rattled the big suits of armor. After a while, and although you were battered and bruised, you smiled and motionned to Silco that the way was clean, the man's eye widened as he raked his hand in his hair. Groaning as he realized his hair was not short anymore and redid the half bun he made to keep his short bob away, the same strands escaping the updo to lay on his left side in some sort of half bangs.

"Not used to the long hair anymore?"

"It has been close to a decade since I last had it this long." His arms cross in front of his chest.

"And why did you let it grow? Change of style?" He shrugged nonchalantly before kicking at one of the dead bodies laying on the ground.

"I suppose. A reminder of my youth perhaps?" He crouches, picking a weapon and huffing at the weight muttering about how unpractical it was before looking over his shoulder. "Are you complaining?" You furrow your eyebrows, mouth moving to open before he gets back up, sauntering towards you with a smirk. "Because I remember you saying that I'd look 'hot' with my hair long."

You groan, pushing at his shoulder before placing your newfound weapons in your belts on each side of your hips. "Prick."

"Keep on telling yourself that, my dove."

You started to walk away, stomach fluttering and face warm as you hurried the both of you to the station. You both arrive there, ridding yourselves of the couple of enforcers left in the station before beginning your heist.

"What are we looking for?" Silco was looking through a file cabinet while you were reading reports and notebooks at the sargent's desk.

"Plans for attacks, next orders, interesting observations, blackmail fuel...anything that feels right." And with that he nods and silence overtakes you two, the only sounds being drawers pulled open and close and pages turned. Books, files, schematics and such stuffed in your bad before you detonate a shrapnel grenade in the armory, the tripwire stain grenade set from the inside before you escaped through the window.

Sitting on a roof far away, panting softly, you hear the huge explosion, blood red smoke escaping the station while people around gather in shock and horror. Soon enough the screams of terror were replaced by disgusted wretching from the enforcers, not used to the smell of condensed sump water, chemicals and rotten food. A smell that wasn't all too uncommon here in Zaun. And as you begin snickering you lay on your back, looking at the metal sky now dyed red with smoke, its tendrils reaching high as if to touch Piltover.

"Wanna do more?" You ask, voice uneven and eyes trailing to a smiling Silco, teeth visible and eye scrunched in amusement and something much softer that made your heart pinch just a little.

"You don't even have to ask, my friend."

And so your night and many others were spent sabotaging stations. Your ministrations moving to outposts soon enough. The same gut wrenching acrid, rot smells and blood red staining the map at different spots, metal fences and stations looking like they were doused in blood. And metaphorically they were as you stained more of the town red, you were dying enforcers with the color of your people's blood, the trenchers that have been persecuted and ruined by the elite under their gilded rule. The gold too pure to rot yet beneath the surface it was festering like a wound that would never close, a wound that they'd inflict over Zaun so that it feels the weight of Piltover's power, so that it takes the blame for its sister's corruption. And as months passed, your influence grew, both you and Silco working in perfect tandem to not only provide for your fellow Zaunite, but also to attack the enemy. Using the information head in the street or from clients and neighbors aswell as the stolen files, you two become sharper, more vicious, yet keep the same vigilence and accuracy in all of your excursions. The ever growing civil unrest fueling your fire as you hear more and more people praising your work, the rebellion that you had feared would take over Silco again was bringing you two closer and making you work better than ever. He imparted his wisdom, his knowledge of all about Zaun to you while you made weapons and other trinkets that would help in missions and fought off the Noxians getting in your way, the both of you sharing brain and brawn equally to tire the Piltovan forces, exhaust them mentally, make them unstable and messy.

Your paths and planning were always randomized so that the enforcers would never catch onto you, and as time passed you would see more red smoke than your own each nights, the smell as horrid as your own bombs. So sometimes you wouldn't even work in sabotaging enforcers again, you'd watch the Sump and Entresol burst in red smoke from the rooftop of your appartment building, a tumbler of whiskey in hand as you read and annotate the files you stole. During the day you'd hear whispers about the Children of Zaun coming back when the Undercity needed them the most, the name making Silco freeze yet after looking at him and observing a nostalgic and profoundly sad look in his eye, he smiled. His eye shut as he shook his head, the small huff of a laugh leaving his nose. And after a month or two of observing, you even followed those people, tailing them unbenknownst to them and watching them work. You two would be taking note of every different rebel working as a copycat, how they moved, how much time they took and their paths until you delivered all of them a note at each and every one of their domiciles.

You have been helping us fight the good fight against Piltover's elitist law.

Under this cruel dictature you've fought alongside us.

Rejoice, for your work has us admirative at your loyalty just like ours made you admirative at our rebellion.

Let us keep fighting the good fight, Children of Zaun, together.

We hope you turn to look at the Old Hungry tonight, and that you'll feel pride at how hard we've been fighting for our independance.

By that time six months had passed since the Kiramman rule was instored in the Sister cities. Jinx posters were everywhere, people admiring her and painting her as a hero both figuratively and literally, her fans even calling themselves Jinxers, creating a sense of community while Piltover tried to enforce the opposite. Just like yours called themselves by the name of the oldest and strongest rebellion movement of Zaun. It was strange, hearing excited whispers at your work, the rebellion you helped begin. Years of working towards this couldn't have prepared you less as the warm feeling within your chest at how proud you were of seeing your people gain the courage to fight back, to ally themselves to each other against the common enemy.

That night, the rooftops arbored about two dozen of people, watching Silco and you's latest heist at the Old Hungry, one of Zaun's iconic landmarks, the clocktower bursting in red, foul smelling smoke while slips of paper rained from the sky. The tower had been taken over by enforcers at the beginning of their occupation yet you had to divert their attention, tire them to make sure you could pull the operation off. And as elated screams flooded the streets and rooftops, you looked down, the Children of Zaun looking up at you with teary eyes. They were teens and young adults, not tired enough from Piltover's tortured, and pissed enough to wake up from the cycle plunging their people further in the dark day by day. They were smiling proudly, eyes misty and wet, their left fists held to their temple and the right one over their hearts.

The Zaunite salute.

The one that enforcers prohibited any Zaunite to do for decades upon decades, the one that the old Children of Zaun used as a salute. And they were doing it, to Silco and you. With your own heart beating like a Noxian drum, lungs expanding and deplating quickly and eyes stinging with unshed tears you turned to look at Silco. He had taken his eyepatch away, shaky breaths leaving his lips as he looked at the sight before him, then he too turned towards you with his good eye widened and misty, lips pulled in the softest of smiles, his now long hair in a ponytail and the strands of hair framing his face floating in the breeze. Your heart beat faster at the sight, he looked positively breathtaking. The years of pain suddenly erased from his face and leaving nothing but youthful hope and soft joy.

"They..They see us as heroes Silco."

"They do."

And a smile slices your face, the biggest smile you've produced in years or maybe ever in your life. Teeth exposed, tears falling down your face as your left fist knocks against your temple, right hand over your heart.

"Remember where you're from! Rejoice in your origins! Fight for your freedom! And look back in pride at your hard work!"

Silco, whom you've never heard raise his voice, was in position too, his voice carrying a heaviness he's been dealing with for decades. Alleviating now that his people are awake, now that he isn't lost anymore within his own darkness, now that the world is moving. Because no matter how dreary it can get, Silco someway, somehow never lets go of his love for his people and his hope for a better future. It has motivated him all his life, and now that his mind and heart were clear, the flame has been tended and stoked back into a roaring blaze. And his roar of hope made your heart flutter in the similar way that has been happening more and more often around him. Melting at his passion, at his patience, at everything that he was.

The Children came by the shop, giving you all the files they got, talking to you and ordering whatever it was they needed. Since making groups after dark was risked, they'd trickle in slowly to the shop, pass informations to you two aswell as each other. And as time passed, the crew grew, more and more people joined under you and Silco's kind, protective wing, leading them to a rebellion that would chip away at the enemy's will, their sanity, their health and their patience. The town was painted in beautiful shades, blue from the Jinxers, painting walls and posters; while the Children of Zaun dyed outposts and stations red and the Firelights left their green symbols to guide whoever needed refuge to their hidden haven. The three creating an harmony in the midst of the chaos they cause, Jinxers visiting you with blueprints for machines and tools they'd need as much as your own team. Firelights coming to you for help in bettering the lives of those taken under their wing with different tools and contraptions. Understanding Silco was the one that raised and created the one the Jinxers followed, and following him and you by proxy while their own leader was gone as the Sumpers followed you, still bitter and angry about Silco's old occupation yet growing more used to him and friendlier as time went. The fear they felt at seeing Silco subsiding into quiet admiration, seeing him now for who he is, understanding who he was before, and appreciating who he was even before that.

The forefather of Zaunite rebellion.

Ten months had passed by now, enforcers tired and losing their grip on Zaun while Piltover sent more of them down, trying to keep their steel like dictatorship to crush and bind you yet failing miserably to contain the growing rebellion bubbling beneath the skin of the Undercity. Noxian guard dogs imposing more and more violence yet you fought them still, their blood staining your hands for the sake of the safety of your own people.

For the past months you had been going back and forth between work and your movement, Silco always by your side. Yet on your days off you'd wander on your own, going to Samira's to see if she could help you with creating an antidote, an antibiotic, whatever it was that could heal Silco's eye. The grey flesh gained territory, albeit slowly, and he needed more dosages of shimmer, going from one to two or three a day. Your stock was depleting at a fast pace, maybe you had enough for four more months but you would have to work fast.

So you provided Samira with Pilt river samples, samples from Sump moss, even a handkerchief you had used to clean up Silco's face wounds covered in a bit of pus and some dead skin. No matter what you gave, a piece of the puzzle was always missing.

"We still haven't tried everything."

"Samira, you have the toxins that eat at his skin, a sample of his skin itself, pure shimmer...I don't know what I can give you to help."

"The moss you gave me had an agent in it, it seemed to stabilize the shimmer solution and help in eating away at the bacteria. Unfortunately as resilient as moss is, the lack of water retension makes only a small bit of sap, which is what is needed to accomplish the biggest of the serum." She shows you through her microscope as she drops a bit of her trial serum onto some bacretia cultivated from the handkerchief, and it actually did work. Not much but it did. The bacteria went into a sort of shock, freezing in place as if they all suddenly fell asleep, then some of them would dissolve. Not all of them, but at least a quarter of the bacteria died from this trial alone.

You sigh, a hand raking through your hair. "Nothing grows in Zaun because of the poor soil and chemical waste." She nods, patting your hand. "I did get something more than information from my heists though."

Your mumble resonates in the room as your hand fishes through your pocket, finding a glowing blue marble.

"A hex crystal?"

"Yeah, they usually don't give those to basic enforcers, but a girl from the ex strike team visited, she had two on her and was stupid enough to leave one behind." You hand the marble to the woman next to you, her tan skin licked by the cold light.

"And...you want me to..use it?"

"If possible, see if shimmer, if the cultivated bacteria, the chemicals or the sap react to it."

"I'm no mage, you know?" She says placing the crystal above the light beneath the microscope, the white shine now blue, before looking into the eyepiece.

"I know Samira, but maybe a little bit of magic can go a long way. We need to try, Silco's good at hiding it but I know he's not getting any better and I worry for him. I just want him to be alright."

She nods and you get up from your chair, leaving the crystal in her capable hands as you go back home. You knew Silco was in much more pain and discomfort than he showed and it saddened you. He had payed the price for his actions, even before he made them, his whole life was spent in pain, and you were going to remedy that in whatever way you could. Yet you needed to find a plant that grew in the Sump for more of the sap that Samira needed and that was something you'd link more to a myth, nothing could grow in Zaun, even less a plant of that sort. And you sigh in frustration as you get back home, Silco sat at the alcove with a book and a cup and turned his head at your presence in the room, nodding his greeting to you.

"Rough day?"

"I'm just kinda stumped on something personal, it's frustrating me to no end because that matter is very important to me."

"And do you know what you'd need to solve that problem?"

You sat in front of him in the cushions, legs framing his as you leaned back in the alcove. "I have theories of one thing I could need, yet it seems to be more of a myth than anything. But what use is it if I can even have it yet not know what the recipe is."

"Is it so important to you that you leave for it everytime we have a day off?"

You nod slowly, pursing your lips into a smile as your eyes find his.

"Then I'm sure you'll find what it is you need. You're a stubborn woman, you won't back down until you get what you want." He nudges you and you sigh, a genuine small smile replacing your pused one. Your stomach bursting with butterflies at his soft encouragement, not rare anymore yet still as impactful each time it leaves his scarred lips.

"I guess. Thanks Silco."

"Don't get used to it." He smacks your hand as you go to take a sip from his coffee, handing it back to him afterwards, a cigarette quickly trapped between your lips as a flame licked the tobacco to ignite it. "I heard of a meeting at Vander's statue."

At his low drawl you open your eyes to stare at him curiously, your head tilting slightly.

"I heard Sevika would conduct it."

You nod to show you were listening. "And do you wish to go?" You blew your steam to the side.

He took a minute to think. "I suppose I do. In the hopes of seeing my daughter again although it seems she's disappeared from the face of Runeterra." His hand passes through his hair.

"Well I know she's definitely not dead, she wouldn't go out so easily against anything in this world. Enforcers, Noxians, magic...no matter what it is."

"I know."

"She's like you in that regard. But even if she isn't here, what will you do?"

"Appologize to Sevika."

"For what?"

He hums pensively, his eyes filled with swirling and clashing emotions, his thoughts looping and multiplying in his head before he simply smiles.

"Everything." Is all that he utters, his eyes conveying the weight of his words.

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

You clasp your hands on his shoulders, grabbing and squeezing comfortingly, his face tilting to the side so his scarred cheek touches your hand.

"Then we'll go." Your own smile grows on your face before you go shower, a meal prepared soon enough after you were done. The both of you falling into your routine, a year of sleeping in the same bed now and a year and a half of living together having led to much comfort in each other's presence. Your hands still found one another's head as you fell asleep, caressing your scalps into a much needed slumber.

The next morning you visit Samira again, Silco eyeing you suspiciously as you do yet letting you go without a word.

"Did the crystal do anything?" The woman slaving away at her desk startles, groaning as she turns to you, your own expression sheepish in apology to her surprise.

"Seems like the serum is boosted. But there's once again something missing..."

You sigh, leaning your hip against her desk, hands braced behind you as your eyes cloud in thought. "Anything hextech has some sort of...runes around the gem. As if to direct the energy purposefully towards any tast the hextech tool is supposed to do."

Humming pensively you trace on a bit of paper the runes you've seen around enforcer weapons, around certain tools carried by construction workers or even on the underground entrance to the hexgates. "Each of those have a purpose, to harm, to transport, to strengthen....If I can find someone proficient in runes we could possibly try something."

"I don't think I could do much for that, I manipulate biological matter, and that's of the order of magic and engeneering."

"You formulate the serum, I'll focus on the crystal. I may not be a mage but I have enough experience as a blacksmith to make something for this."

She nods, a hand rubbing on her forehead. "It could be dangerous you know?"

"And I'm willing to take the risk." You say, pocketing the crystal now that you know of its effects on the serum.

"It's crazy what you do for that man you know. Saving him and taking him in is one thing, letting him in your life and your shop for him to have something new is another, but you're inviting him into your revolution and using dangerous materials to save him..." She turns to you, her dark hair shadowing her face and making her grave expression all the more impactful. "I know you work yourself to the bone for everyone. But this is nearly madness."

"You know me, don't know when to stop."

"And you won't, especially not for him."

"He knows everything Samira." The glowing marble is back in your hand, thrumming with untapped power as you turn it to observe its smooth surface. "He's my only friend. The one person who saw past everything, and he's letting me in too. I see the bigger picture about him and he deserves more time. To repent and to finally live a life he loves, without the corruption of his own trauma."

"That's not all, now is it?"

And you were loath to admit it but it was true. It had been a year and a half of Silco's presence in your life and all had changed for the best. It was as if he was the key and you were the lock, he tried to force himself into locks unfit for his shape and broke them and himself as a consequence, you had been lockpicked again and again and pillaged only to decide to lock yourself away forever. You had provided him with a lock worth opening, letting him unravel after chipping away at himself for a world that would not budge and he had provided you with the gentle unlocking of your potential and all of what you had hidden for so long. What had started as wanting to save a fellow Zaunite, progressed to a silent need for companionship, then an unspoken friendship, but after the baptism even if he had called you his friend your heart had swayed into a different form of affection. The longing for companionship having been fulfilled you hoped to be content, and to a certain point you were. Yet there was still an emptiness, parts of your cracked heart not yet reached by his care, and you doubt they'd ever be. You hated that feeling. That longing for something more you believed you would not be granted. How dared you expect more from a man that already gave you so much more of himself than he allowed others? It made you feel unworthy of his friendship, the craving for something more, like you were given an inch but took a mile. Yet even as you pushed those feelings they kept on growing, every little action, every little word, fuelling your hidden affections and bringing them back into the spotlight.

It could be a simple playful nudge that you exchange, your gaze finding his in a clash of cold tides and searing metal, a soft smile or a teasing smirk. It could be his voice rolling like impending storms as he calls out to you, the gravelly quality it takes when he's tired, the silky soft tone he uses when you two open up or the velvety smoothness that drowns you in his seductive drawl when he jokes. Or maybe his laugh, that could be a soft huff, an almost indignant scoff, a low chuckle or a thundery cackle, rare like a flower growing in Zaun and just as beautiful. Maybe it was how he never seemed to fully hide how he felt around you, his façade slipping enough to show his comfort, his body relaxed, the permanent furrow of his eyebrows gone, the crows feet framing his eyes softened, his jaw loosened, and his eyes oh so expressive everytime he looks at you. Emotions that were familiar yet that took so long to decypher, still hard to fully comprehend even after so long. He seemed to seek out your presence, long gone were the days where he kept all the distance he could between you both, his body now always close by. Following you to the alcove or the couch, sitting at the table while you cooked, touching the small of your back when he opened the door to let you go first, a hand on your shoulder as he looks at whatever you're doing from behind you. It could be his growing humor, banter leaving you feel warm and joyful as he comes more and more out of his shell, the soft and open hearted moments also multiplying, bodies huddled together in the alcove with whiskey and cigarettes as you talk about anything and everything. Dreams, aspirations, hope....they all seemed so far away before him, then he came around and everything changed. You knew he believed himself to be a jinx, trying again and again yet always failing, always making things worse.

Yet he saved you from loneliness and his presence brought comfort and support you were never granted before. Fuelling your zeal, healing your heart.

Your heart clenches at the thought of your shared nights, the bed was where the both of you slept, soft breaths mingling as sleep overtook you, your chest warmed by his, one of your hands in each other's hair. In your dreams, when they seldom overtook your nightmares, you'd see you two embracing one another so tightly, words whispered in the other's skin, clothes discarded for closeness. In those dreams you felt fulfilled and complete, as if his care was all you needed for your life to click into place, for the final puzzle piece to be placed. And when nightmares woke you and he would drag you in his arms, you knew it was right. That his affection was all you craved, all you needed, to finally be fully yourself, yet as comfortable as you were in his arms in the mornings you always woke up alone. Well not exactly alone, yet not as cared for as in your sleep. And those nights happened more and more often, as if to tease you and mock you for falling deeper, making you realize just how fucked you were. Nightmares triggering from the stress at liking someone who wouldn't like you back, someone you couldn't have, yet Silco was ever so patient and caring towards you, maybe more so as time passed. Yet the embarrasment always melted as you came downstairs to the sight of him cooking, teasing you about how you clung to him in your sleep with one leg surrounding his hips and your arms clinging to him for dear life. All shame leaving for the day up until you wake up the next morning alone in bed yet again.

You sigh. "It doesn't matter."

"It does if you bleed yourself dry for him."

"But I am not. He helps me with everything, I have so much more energy now Samira, and more time for myself even if most of it is spent with him."

"You like it that way don't you?"

You nod, lower lip pinched between your teeth as you let out a long exhale through your nose. "He won't feel the same anyways, so I take what I can get."

"Are you sure about that? Silco is not rumored to be the most gentle, open guy, he's grown a lot with you." She rolls away from her desk, getting up to stand next to you. "Maybe he's in the same situation. But I doubt he'll reveal it anytime soon."

"He's probably just grateful, it's been over a decade since he's had a true friend, so he's probably just happy about it. Like I said, I'll take what I can get, I'm his friend first and foremost, no need to change something that doesn't need changing."

She looks at you knowingly, her eyebrows lifted and her lips in a soft pursed smile.

You put the crystal back in your pocket and leave Samira with a wave of your hand as you open the door, walking back home and sharing a quick lunch with Silco before you both make your way to Vander's statue. A large crowd already surrounded it and a short haired woman, who you guessed was Sevika, was on the statue's pedestal and as she spoke with her soft yet comandeering voice everybody listened. Jinxers, Children of Zaun, Firelights, factionless Zaunites and ex Baron lackeys, all joined in this important space for an important reason.

The need for unity against adversity.

"It's no secret we got history. Blood spilt on all sides. But we grew up on the same streets, ate the same scraps. Like it or not, we're in this mess together."

You nod along, eyebrows furrowed as your eyes stared at her, her words ringing true and showing her attachment to her people and how she respected the Zaunite code. Other people reacting in similar ways as more trenchers gathered in the square, the space getting scarce but the spirits getting stronger.

"Enforcers raiding our homes, Noxians down our throats, innocents getting carted off to Stillwater. We gotta choose right now whether we're going to throw the towel or make a stand together!"

Her voice gains in strength as she paces, looking to all of the faces in the crowd, eyes widening at the man next to you, Silco's hand suddenly holding yours in a tight yet gentle and warm grip while her bionic hand clenches. You squeezed in reassurance, wordlessly showing your support to your friend as his thumb caressed the back of your hand, eyes meeting Sevika's with a strong solemn nod, eyes conveying your allegience to her cause and she nods back before her eyes trail away.

"Not as Firelights, or Jinxers, or washed up goons." She takes a shaky breath. "Or even Children of Zaun." Her voice sounds gentler, reminiscent of a past long gone. "But as Zaunites!" She smiles to the crowd.

Yet people yell about wanting to see Jinx and you roll your eyes. No matter if their leader wasn't there, Jinxers had to realize that this was about more than symbols, that this was the place we'd create a united Zaun to fight back against your wardens. And all noise stops as a child climbs up onto Vander's memorial, lighting a blue flare and posing like one of the many paintings of Jinx you had observed on the walls of the Undercity. People slowly raised their hands, no matter who they are, taking off their masks and speaking in agreement, your own arm going upwards, the hand interlocked with Silco's raising in a joint cheer. You felt your friend's gaze on you and turned to him, cheeks softly burning as you smiled, his eyelashes fluttering as his mouth softly opens and closes as if to say something yet being uncapable of it.

That's when enforcers struck, what was a secret meeting suddenly thwarted by violence as citizens were beaten. You pulled your knuckle blades from beneath your long coat, a holster now holding them to your belts, and slipped in the crowd to attack, Silco preparing two daggers and doing the same. Yet as many as you beat more came around, it was an ambush.

"Stop fighting and run!"

Your voice screeches, continuing your unrelenting attacks towards the enforcers to permit as many Zaunites to escape as you could. Noxian forces soon arriving to the Piltovans' help and you sneered as you got low, blades planted in the ground as you prepared to lunge before you were dragged away by a familiar hand.

"It's not worth it, we have to leave."

The low gravelly voice of your friend was breathed directly into your ear, the closeness, feeling and sound disarming you before you turned to him. His eye was shadowed by a feeling of familiarity, a pain that had occured in the past, and at his haunted look you nod. Your weapons back in their sheaths as you hold his hand and run as fast and as far as you can, climbing gutters and avoiding the enemy through the roofs. Something felt wrong though, like someone following you.

"Silco." You call out.

"I know."

"The Sump." He nods at you, you both rushing between rooftops, getting down in the winding alleyways until you arrive at one of the entry points, suddenly stopping and taking your blades out, pointing them towards the one following you.

It was Sevika.

"Who are you?"

"A friend of Silco's." She scoffs.

"He doesn't do friends."

"He didn't do friends Sevika." Her eyes narrow and you sheathe your weapons back. "But you're not here to talk to me, you two need time, take it. I'll be here." You walk away, clasping your hands on Silco's shoulders for support and he grasps your hands gently, squeezing them and releasing a deep sigh. "You got this Sil."

His head snaps up and he looks at you in the eyes, his own widened until it softens. This time it's different than the usual ones, a look that has been coming more and more since that night you met up with the Children of Zaun at the Old Hungry, sparce yet growing more present. Before missions, after, during lunch at work, when no clients are around and you're working the hot metal in your hands, when you talk in the alcove at night while sharing cigarettes and a glass of whiskey, when you go sleep...

And that look made you crumble more the more you saw it. Falling deeper into a feeling that you were too scared to name under the idea that knowing about it will make it all the more concrete to you, cemented into your very being, carved into the rough metal of your soul.

So you step back, setting yourself on a dumpster not too far away. Silco's eye following you before he sighs, his hands clenching as he steels his resolve and takes off his eyepatch, slowly turning towards Sevika.

"You died."

"And yet I am no ghost Sevika."

"Yeah, unfortunately." She scoffs and that's when you notice her arm, or lack thereof, broken during the fight she was left without her mechanical aid. Your mind already making calculations for a small gift to your friend's former friend. She was rallying Zaun, loyal to her people even during such a time. No, especially during such a time. And her words earlier filled you with respect, no matter what would transpire between Silco and her, she'd get a new arm.

"I wish to apologize Sevika, if you'd let me."

"Hah! You? Apologize?" She barks out a laugh. "That's grand Silco. Real grand" She takes a few steps forward before looking at you. "What did you do to him, girlie? Silco isn't someone who appologizes or hides."

"We didn't hide Sevika, Chross came to us and we took care of him, shut him up in exchange for not divulging his..dealings." Silco takes a step forward. "If I was hiding I wouldn't lead a revolution and I would not be working out in the open either."

"Then why didn't you come back?" The woman's voice was angry, but a crack in it proved that there was more than just that.

"Because I had done enough damage, trying to fix it would risk me falling back in my ways or making everything worse. I had to...take a different approach."

"So the Children they're.."

"They're our faction, hers aswell as mine." He motions to you, a small smile softening his face. "She saved me, just because I was a Zaunite, she gave so much time and energy for me even when I was highly undeserving of it. She reminded me of what I was fighting for in the first place, the reason I kept going. Sevika I was blinded by pain, my dream stemmed from my love towards our people yet it was corrupted by loss, by fear, by anger, and I lost sight of what trully mattered in this fight. I lost sight of my love."

He sighs, putting a hand on Sevika's metal shoulder.

"You joined me because I got things done, and I know you saw me lose myself and tried to get me back. The only reason you stayed was because I was genuinely making things change, yet were they for the best? All I did was divide our people, drug them to create a weapon strong enough to give me power and money to take Piltover down, all the respect they gave me mainly stemmed from fear and rarely from admiration."

Sevika sighs and nods, agreeing to Silco's words.

"My friend here, she showed me the errors in my ways, not only by being honest and loyal when I had nothing, but also by giving me a place besides her and see the world for what it truly is again. Not a swirl of black ink in milky white, showcasing billions of shades of grey. No, she brought color back, showed me the beauty I believed had died so long ago. And she made me realize just how cruel I had been. Not only to my people and my men, but to Jinx and you aswell. The only two people that stayed besides me even when I all I did was hurt you."

"So you grew a conscience?"

"Yes, and a heart aswell." Sevika's face sours, it's acrid and bitter like the Sump, full of so many emotions. Anger, hurt and disbelief amonst them.

"I hurt you Sevika, I used you and you let yourself be treated like this because of our shared dreams, because of your morals. Yet in the end, you were the one who ran everything weren't you? You enforced authority, inspired respect, you checked every operation, acted as personal security while I was rotting away at my desk. My mind circling the drain, battered by corrupted politics, self-hatred, fear, anger, spite and hopelessness. But you never lost hope, and you stayed despite the behavior I was punishing you with. Gradually becoming worse to you, to Jinx and to myself."

"So you admit she was a mistake? Taking her in wasn't your responsibility, you fucked everything."

Sevika straightens, the look in her eyes softening and her lips pursing.

"While I know that taking her in was what made my downfall all the more painful, I will not allow you to call her a mistake." He rumbles, his shoulders tight. "She was the one element keeping me human even after i lost it all. And she was Felicia's daughter, I was not going to let her get caught by enforcers, or leave her without anything or anyone. I prefer suffering the price of my daughter's actions than risk my old friend's legacy dying without fighting for it."

"But I shouldn't have let her get involved in the enterprise. I shouldn't have made her into a monster, and I should have seeked help for her. She hurt many of our people, she hurt you, and her actions caused this war to happen. Maybe it was necessary, yet maybe a better solution could have been found had I been a better father. Unfortunately I was the best father I could be to her while being the unhealed, pathetic man that I was."

"We both know you were anything but pathetic Silco."

"I don't mean weak, Sevika. I was drowning in my own darkness and I pulled her with me, the rare instances of clarity I had were because she swimmed to the surface and let me take a lungful of air before my weight dragged her down again. And as she grew, my darkness exacerbated hers, and she drowned in her own, pulling me along aswell. I was pathetic because I could not recognize my faults as a father, as a leader, as a revolutionary and as a man. And for all of that, for all of the hurt I caused you, Jinx and our people, I appologize."

Sevika freezes, her hand clenching and unclenching rapidly as if debating whether to punch Silco or hold him, eyelashes fluttering and eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm sorry Sevika. You've always picked up my messes, always tried your hardest to make everything better, and I could never see how lucky I was to have you by my side. If anything, I was by yours the whole time, yet never was I there for you like you deserved."

And with that Silco steps back and takes a knee, saluting Sevika like a true Child of Zaun while her mouth opens and closes rapidly, her fingers twitching and her lungs taking quick, deep breaths.

"And you expect me to forgive and forget?"

"No." Was the simple and gentle answer he gave.

"No?"

"You are free to hate me, even beat me where I stand if it makes you feel any better. But you shouldn't forgive me if you cannot find it in yourself to do so, and you should never forget how I was either. I was a real piece of work Sevika, and you were the one that dealt with my every whims, I want you to realize how strong you are for that."

She drops down, her flesh arm gripping Silco's neck, his eyes fearful yet determined, his face soft, warmed by a smile.

"I should have never done that to you, old friend." He embraces her softly, the woman dropping her hand to wrap it behind your friend, hand punching at him before it grips the leather jacket. Her back jumped as Silco held her, she was crying.

"Fuck you Silco." You chuckle at her muffled words and her head comes up, arm unwrapping to wipe at her melted makeup and aid her at getting back up on her feet. "How'd you do that kid?"

"A lot of patience. Gotta need it to deal with him." She approached you, eyes wet yet a small smile growing on her face. "I also make him work, he's under me so if he does something unsatisfactory I deck his pay."

You both chuckle and she extends her hand to you, you grab it and shake it, introducing yourself as she does the same.

"That's all?"

"I also make pretty good food?" She snorts and releases your hand. "What? No Zaunite would turn down a good homemade meal."

"You look strong." Her words resonate as her eyes take you in, trailing up an down your form.

"Blacksmith." Your head tilts to her mechanical shoulder and you smile. "I'll make you something."

"You don't have to."

"I want to." Silco chuckles from behind her.

"That means the decision is final Sevika. Her stubbornness is one of the many reasons she chipped away at who I was before. And although I have a long way to go, I wouldn't have made it this far and won't make it much further without her."

You huff out a laugh. "You'd be good on your own Sil, stop buttering me up."

"I'm not. I'd lose myself without you, at the very least I'd risk it. You keep me straight, you transmute me like the philosopher's stone changes the crudest of elements into gold."

You bite your lip trying to distract yourself from the growing blush making your face burn as it you were feverish and your stomach and heart churn and flutter. Sevika grins, her eyes widening mischeviously while her chest bounces with a laugh.

"Now when did you learn to become a poet Silco?" She teases, her eyes trained on you.

"I've had a lot of time to read and reflect on my feelings."

Her eyebrows raise in incredulity as she huffs out a chuckle.

"Right." She drawls teasingly. "All of your feelings?"

"What are you implying?"

"Me?" She turns around. "Nothing."

You slip from the dumpster and breathe deeply, stepping from behind her to find Silco now standing up with his hands in his coat pocket.

"Something big is coming, will you two lend your strength to Zaun when it happens?"

"You don't need to ask Sevika, we're all Zaunites, it's our fight and we'll give it all we've got." She grins at your words, an arm wrapping around you.

"Good, you're valuable to our people. I heard of you, the blacksmith who worked day and night to provide masks for us during the strike team attacks. The ever so reliable woman of the Sumps that people praise day in and day out to provide all that her people need." And all of a sudden she cackles. "That means you-" She points to Silco. "Are the assistant? Oh I never thought I'd see the day."

"And he still takes care of boring papers. As a punishment." You giggle alongside her and look over to Silco who looked at you with that same warm look, nearly warm enough to make you melt into a puddle at this very moment if it wasn't for Sevika's hold on you.

"You let me do this because you hate these boring papers and I'm good at them. Don't lie, I make your work easier my dove." His voice teases, velvety and drawled as he looks at you, his hands placing his eyepatch back on his face and redoing his hair. Locks of ink black fluttering until right below his shoulders before being placed back in their low bun, the half bangs still adorning the left side of his face. His hair having grown much longer in the year he'd spent by your side.

The tease had shivers racking through your body.

"That's what you're supposed to do as an assistant, you pissant." You retort, trying to take the attention away from the words he'd just uttered. Yet Sevika's hand gripped your shoulder tighter and you saw her smirk from the peripheral, she had felt everything and you know she wouldn't let you live it down when you next met.

"I'll leave you two, I have to find Jinx, Isha's been taken."

"Isha?"

"Jinx?"

Came out two replies at once and the woman nods.

"Jinx is well, she found Isha around a year ago and raised her, took care of her. She's the kid that was on Vander's statue." You hum in understanding and Sevika takes her arm away from your shoulders and into her pocket. "Kid's very important to baby blue, helped her with her psychosis, she got better because of the little one."

Silco takes a deep breath and approaches you two. "Then thank that child for me, and cherish the both of them."

"I have been. Jinx was all that was left of you, and to her I was all that was left aswell. She's...grown on me, that crazy little thing."

You smile at Silco and Sevika, lips softly pulled up as you cross your arm.

"Thank you for that. Caring for her."

"I know how much she means to you, she'd done a lot of efforts towards me too you know. She's the one who built me that arm after the previous one was ruined. So what started out as a debt just became..."

"Genuine care." Your friend's voice finishes Sevika's sentence, the woman nodding gently at the words, agreeing to them. Her eyes found Silco's and whatever she found in that cold teal had her smiling, her eyes drifting to you for a millisecond as Silco's do aswell. Still swirling and glittering with that underscribable look.

"Yeah. Genuine care. Same thing I felt for you after you saved me from life as an infirm." Sevika says, cutting the eye contact before raising her eyebrows at the man.

"The ledgers have been flipped, I owe you greatly now."

"No. You saved my life and fueled me, no matter how much of a prick you were, there was a lot of good in you. Even if your actions were beyond reprehensible. The debts have all been repaid."

"Then you two are equals." You butt in, taking Sevika's hand and Silco's right one, trapping them between your own in a handshake. "No one ows anybody a debt anymore, you now see eye to eye and have the same goal. That's all there is to it." You turn to the woman next to you. "You're always welcome to visit us anytime if you're in need of anything or just wish to swing by, a friend of Silco's is also my friend and like hell would I turn a Zaunite away."

She smiles and frees her hand, showing it to you and you take it, a smile of your own reciprocating hers. Before she drops her hand, steps taking her away, a goodbye hastily thrown over her shoulder as she leaves, you and Silco also walking back home. Your routine was similar to always yet as you rake your hands through one another's hair that night you get closer, holding him.

"I'm proud of how far you've come, Sil."

"I wouldn't have been able to do it all without you."

You shiver and snuggle deeper in his hold, his warmth seeping through your clothes as you try to ignore how much faster your heart is beating.

"Yet if you weren't good deep down, it would have never happened. I'm proud of you, so I hope you're proud of yourself aswell."

"By your side I always am, my dove."

prev || m.list || next

Taglist: @vicurious28@midromiell@zorosleftmantit101@anthy-j-ander@agathasslutt@onyxistired@ren-ren23@hurts-my-brain@burgerwolf74

[niuniente]

Hello! I am visiting Finland in a few months, and I always love seeing you talk about it and the culture there. I'm definitely excited to experience Finnish sauna. Also, ice cream! I want to try as many flavors as I can before I leave! I was wondering if you had any advice for someone visiting for the first time? How to not be rude, or foods and such to definitely try? Or just anything that comes to mind.

(Also, I love Death-Head's Deal. Alrick is the best, and every update makes me so happy. The characters are all so interesting and make me want to know more about them. I think my favorite is Grimm, especially when he's with Pearl.)

I hope you'll have a wonderful trip in Finland! The country is very safe so you can be at ease in public places. If you lose something, Finns will try to deliver it back to you.

I always say that if you are familiar how to travel in Japan in a way that you are polite, the same rules apply to Finland. This country is often called the Japan of Nordics. The mentality and what is considered polite and what rude is very same between these two nations.

POLITE WAYS TO TRAVEL IN FINLAND

Leave people mind their own businesses. Don't be overly familiar. Finns are friendly but a bit reserved and need a lot of personal space around them.

If you need help, ask anyone, they will help and not be bothered.

In Helsinki, always stand on the escalator on the right hand side.

Don't be noisy in public places, including public transport.

Expressing emotions openly is considered rude, especially in public places.

Silence is polite and not a sign of boredom or someone wanting to get rid of you.

Be honest. When you ask from a Finn "How is it going?" they will honesty tell you how it is going and expect the same from you.

If you want to politely ask for something like in a cafe, use a word kiitos (thank you). We don¨t have a word for please. (Like "One coffee, kiitos" or "a ticket to airport, kiitos"). Kiitos is not necessary, Finns don't usually use it either but we just ask what's needed.

SHOES OFF INDOORS!!

In public transport and in public transport spots, leave space around other people when waiting for the transit and being in the transit. Sit next to someone only if there are no empty seats.

(Finns waiting for a bus and giving personal space for each other)

In Helsinki, you can buy public transport tickets, including 1-13 day tickets, from R-kioski kiosks alongside the ticket machines. You'll find one from the airport, too. Note that some ticket machines do not accept cash - in that case, go to R-kioski kiosk. There's one near to every train station in Helsinki if you don't know where to look.

To get to central Helsinki from the airport, you will need an ABC ticket. If you have to go only to Tikkurila to change a train, you will need a BC ticket. Remember to validate it by showing it to the card reader in the train/bus. If you travel around a one zone, you will still need a two zone ticket because singular zone tickets don't exist. Like in the central zone A you will still need to buy a AB ticket, in the B zone you will need a AB or a BC ticket etc. More ticket information at hsl.fi

If you arrive to Helsinki but are going to go somewhere else in Finland, buy your train tickets in advance. Otherwise, the tickets can be 3 times more expensive. Buy your long train tickets from vr.fi For short distances like 1-2 hours, you might also want to try Onnibussi, which is really cheap, starting from 2€/journey. You can travel long distances with Onnibussi, too.

From the airport, both train tracks go to central Helsinki. From the central railway station, trains P and I both go to airport. If you want to use taxi, order Uber, Yango or Bolt as those are the cheapest ones to use. Note that they are still rather expensive.

If you have time and you are in Helsinki, consider popping at Estonia! There's a daily big ferry running between Helsinki and Tallinn with 20-25€. Buy your tickets to Tallinn from Eckerö Line or from Tallink Silja Line

If you are in Turku, you can make a day trip to Stockholm, Sweden! Viking Line and Tallink Silja Line operate between Turku and Stockholm.

Pretty much everyone speaks English so you'll be okay!

It's safe to drink tap water. If you want to buy water from the store, hiilihapoton is still water and hiilihapotettu is sparkling water.

In grocery stores, all allergens are listed on the price labels. L = lactose free with 0% lactose, VL = low in lactose (lactose content 1-4)%, M = dairy free, G = gluten free, V = vegan (can contain egg).

You can get anything you can imagine lactose free and there's a great selection of gluten free and vegan food, too, including in restaurants.

Here are some tips where to visit if you come to Helsinki! Mind you that central Burger King is closed.

Ask if you need/want to know something else :3

[shana-reviews-tmblr]

I want to give insight as someone who grew up in Via's position and i will say that i will only be speaking for myself, if anyone else grew up in Via's position but feel differently you are also valid.

The situation is complicated, OP brings up a lot of points that are accurate, Via being 17 and also not being an innocent child in terms of not knowing the situation.

here is where I counter a few points as far as Via supposedly being in the wrong and i want to stress this is no hate to OP because if you went in this without knowing how things are from Via's perspective you'd assume she was being unfair.

Via all her life has only known her father being her emotional support, she trusts him and loves him undoubtedly more so than her mother and as we see in pictures and in the show, Stolas has always been there for her and was a far better father to Via than Paimon was to Stolas.

Stolas's desire to protect Via falls in line with Goofy's protectiveness and love for Max from the Goofy Movies

I use Goofy as an example because both are undoubtedly loving parents, but both are also very flawed parents, Goofy smothers Max while Stolas wants to protect Via so much from having her world view of her mother and her life being not what she thinks it was that it backfired.

Because Stolas wasn't able to tell Via the truth, Via has grown up with this idea her parents loved each other and that the reason Stella has become what she is now is due to Stolas cheating.

remember Via does not know the abuse her mother inflicted on her father from before the cheating and divorce.

so, from Via's POV she's seeing her mother turn into a hateful person because her husband betrayed her trust and their marriage

not helped was that Via always had a fear of losing her father (side note i think Via has prophetic visions because her song in Sinsmas describes what she said she saw in her nightmare as a child from S1 ep2)

this fear that she had grew until now after Stolas was banished, which she didn't know about, in her view point her dad left her for Blitz (as her song showed, Via sees Blitz as her replacement as his shadow covers her position in a family portrait)

these are fears that kids have with losing their parents either because their dad or mom found a new spouse and had a new kid, etc. Via's fears come from a real place

not helped was her finding Stolas's medication and with all the above mentioned, and her finding the pills, Via now thinks Stolas never cared about her that he used the medication to go through the motions and everything was a lie

this is partially the fault of Stella as she kept Via from contacting Stolas and vice versa for 1 month, had Stolas been able to get a hold of her the day after the trial (which he did) or had been able to see her within a week, that would have been a window for him to get to Via and explain everything so she understands his banishment and he could even have finally opened up about everything, but it didn't happen and Via was left in an environment of two toxic people while her own emotions were left without a means of processing everything which turned to sorrow, bitterness, and eventually anger.

All of these are emotions i went through when my parents divorced, though thankfully I was under my father's custody he had better luck than Stolas did because he at least was able to tell me his side of the story and even then only told me after i turned 18 because much like Stolas he didn't want me to grow up resenting my mom, turning against her, or having me fall apart, as much as i wanted to know why they divorced, but i do know that during this time when they were divorcing i felt Via's anger and sadness because it felt like my life was breaking and it did affect me as a kid because i took my anger out in different ways.

Via may be 17, but her anger is very understandable, but like stolas she is a victim of stella's abuse because thanks to Stella's evil and cruelty, it prevented Stolas from ever telling Via how much of a monster her mother is and because it was difficult for Stolas to say this to Via, she only thought her mom became this person because of Stolas.

Some people think there was an easy answer to this, but the truth is like i said before this is a VERY complicated situation because abuse does not leave victims with many options.

Stella's abuse of Stolas broke him but he did the best he could to protect Via, but at the time prior to Sinsmas it was difficult for him to tell Via the truth because doing so would have still broken Via, the woman who is her mother who she thinks is probably someone who loved her being a monster? it would have been difficult for Via to process everything and Stolas didn't want that for her.

In the end Abuse hurts EVERYONE and Abusers only destroy, and, in this case, Stella caused the issues that lead to Via and Stolas's relationship breaking and now Via feels betrayed by her father and has essentially shut herself off from him, maybe even Stella too.

the show now has a narrative stake on the line as Stolas is going to have to fight now to try and make amends with Via and help her reopen up to him.

this is something too that happened to with my sister and our dad, because when our parents divorced, much like how Stella kept Via away from stolas our mom did the same with my sister only in a more cruel fashion because she lied to my sister about our dad, i won't say what she told her that's too private for me to want to share, but it was enough to make my sister afraid of him and because of that i had to grow up without my sister being in my life most of the time, only regulated to when my mom wanted me to visit where she lived

so, if I'm guessing correctly HB is going to do the same, Via is in a vulnerable position and if Stella can get her claws into her, she might turn Via more against Stolas.

but I'm hoping much like how my sister learned that she was lied to Via will see the lies her mom might tell her and realize the truth and let herself be open enough for Stolas to reach her and he can finally tell her everything.

to end this I'll just say that once more the situation is complicated and Via is not being a brat or is in the wrong, most people would only see her as being in the wrong because we have an omnipotent view of the show, we know what has happened to Stolas and we know things Via doesn't, without the info we know, Via only sees her life breaking apart and it's because her father chose someone else over his wife and daughter and she thinks he used medication to go through the motions and that he basically put on a mask the entire time.

and after he broke his promise beforehand in seeing stars, this was just the straw that broke the camel's back for her and she was too angry, sad, and scared to open up and let Stolas explain.

all of which is understandable, and you can't hold anything against Via

So I want to address something.

Octavia: “You had a choice and you chose him.”

I am of two minds: she’s 17. She’s going through a traumatic situation. She’s emotionally stunted because of the way she was raised.

She also told Stolas, to his face, in front of Blitz, that he should have let Blitz be executed.

I don’t hate her for this. Not at all. Teenagers are notoriously self-absorbed and you add some privilege/entitlement to that, a dash of trauma, and you get the inevitable consequences.

And also

She’s not an innocent little girl who’s done nothing wrong ever. She’s 17. She knows what she’s saying.

She said, to Stolas’ face, in front of Blitz and co., that he should have let Blitz die.

She’s speaking from a place of hurt and betrayal.

She’s also in the wrong for that. And I hope with time and perspective, with some maturity to understand that her father is flawed and traumatized and doing his best between a rock and a hard place, she will apologize for that.

[awardenandacrow]

FANFIC SNIPPET 22

NOTE: Chronologically Follows Snippet #18

[Bellara and Lucanis inadvertently learn Rook’s favorite breakfast food]

CW/TW: mention of food insecurity, poverty, and slavery; brief strong language

——————————————————————————

Hunger pains drew Naimeryn from sleep perhaps sooner than she would have liked. She grumbled and rubbed her eyes, remembering suddenly that with all the excitement of settling Lucanis in, she’d never eaten anything that could be considered dinner. She sighed. Up and at ‘em, then.

She shed the night wrap and left it laying on the couch, shrugging into an old tunic and a pair of worn trousers. She grabbed her hair bands and headed out the door, braiding as she went. She’d been wearing her hair the same way for so long she could usually get it right without a mirror, but also, if they were uneven or crooked, she doubted anyone would be paying enough attention to her to notice.

The library and courtyard were both silent and empty, and she wondered if she were the only one up. As she reached the door to the kitchen, she hesitated. It was probably a good bet the assassin who had just spent a year in a Venatori prison was a light sleeper. She’d have to be quiet. Thankful the Fade didn’t find squeaky hinges aesthetic, Naimeryn opened the door just enough to slip inside.

It had been unnecessary. Lucanis stood by the fireplace, a cup of Harding’s tea in hand. He glanced over his shoulder as she entered. Caught off guard, she gave him a nervous little wave — and then felt immensely stupid, and quickly put her hand back down. Why was interacting with him so *hard?!*

“Good morning,” he acknowledged her, turning fully away from the fire.

“Morning,” she returned, opting to just head to the kitchen rather than make a further fool of herself by trying to actually *talk* to him. She rummaged around for the pan and a carton of eggs, waving her hand to start the fire in the oven. She’d just started cracking the eggs into the pan when the kitchen door opened again, and Bellara wandered in with a yawn and a big stretch.

“Oh! Good morning, Lucanis! Did you sleep well? I know your bed’s in the pantry, but was it better than — oh I shouldn’t ask that, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lucanis assured her. He sounded exhausted, and Naimeryn couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t answered her question. He.. *had* slept, hadn’t he?

Well, he *had* told her he tried not to sleep much. But… he had to get *some* sleep.

“Morning, Rook!”

“Morning, Bel,” she said quickly. She should focus on her task, not how well Lucanis did or didn’t sleep. “Do either of you want eggs? I think there’s enough for everyone, but we’ll have to remember to grab more.”

“Are you hard boiling them again?” Bellara wanted to know.

“Too hungry,” Naimeryn shook her head, flipping the first two eggs in the pan. “Didn’t remember to eat dinner. Frying these. Could make scrambled — while I eat these.”

Bellara giggled. “Scrambled, please. Rook makes decent eggs,” she told Lucanis.

“Don’t ask me to make anything else though,” Naimeryn laughed, dumping her eggs onto a plate and starting on Bellara’s scramble. Milk, salt, pepper. “We’ll need more milk soon, Bel.”

“Every morning she’s in here making eggs,” Bellara continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “They must be your favorite, huh, Rook?”

Naimeryn shoved a mouthful of egg into her face and started whisking Bellara’s. She swallowed quickly and shook her head.

“I actually hate them,” she laughed at herself. She poured Bellara’s breakfast into th pan to cook. “But they’re really the only thing I know how to make. My whole childhood, eggs and bread were really the only thing we could consistently count on having to eat, because they were cheap. In Denerim, no one noticed or seemed to care if you stole some from the coop. And the magister had so many chickens, that was basically all they ever fed us.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” she concluded, depositing Bellara’s plate in front of her. As she did, she caught the expressions on both of their faces. Surprise, concern, confusion… maybe even some pity?

“Oversharing,” she said uncomfortably. “My bad. Uh, Lucanis, eggs?”

“After that speech?” He asked, shaking his head.

“Sorry,” Naimeryn mumbled, returning to the pan and cracking three more into it. She dropped her eyes to her plate as she scarfed down what was left of the first two.

“What *do* you like for breakfast, Rook?” Bellara wanted to know, the scrape of her fork letting Naimeryn know *she* at least had not lost her appetite. Bless her for trying to salvage the morning. Naimeryn finished what was in her mouth before answering.

“I’ve only had them once, but… I really like *pancakes*,” she admitted with a sigh, flipping her next batch of eggs. “I tried teaching myself to make them, but I always seem to make the batter too thick, or too thin, or I burn them, or they stick and I can’t flip them. I dunno. It’s easier to just make eggs.”

“I make a mean pancake,” Bellara grinned.

“Really?” Naimeryn looked up at her. “Could you teach me?”

“Sure, of course!” Bellara nodded, finishing her eggs. “Next time we go shopping, I’ll make sure we get what we need.”

“That would be really great,” Naimeryn smiled, dumping her remaining eggs onto her plate and dousing the oven fire. Suddenly they seemed even less appealing than they had before. She crossed to the table and sat next to Bellara.

“Rook!” The other elf cried suddenly, reaching out and shoving her braid out of the way. “Your neck!”

Naimeryn grimaced. “Fucker grabbed me pretty hard. He leave bruises?”

“Neve didn’t mention he grabbed your *neck*,” Bellara frowned, inspecting the damage intently. “How dare he?”

“I’m all right, Bel,” Naimeryn smiled. “I was just distracting him so Lucanis here could finish the job.”

She nodded to their new companion. She felt bad deflecting Bellara’s attention to him, but also she didn’t like being fussed over. Varric needed her to be the one in charge. She needed to do better.

“Erm, yes,” Lucanis looked uncomfortable, making her guilt double down. “A most effective distraction.”

…

SHE. HATES. EGGS?

Lucanis did his best to ignore Spite.

SHE’S EATING. A LOT OF EGGS.

“Yes,” Lucanis mumbled into his cup as Bellara fretted over Rook’s neck and Rook proceeded to wolf down her least favorite food like she hadn’t eaten in a week. Was forgetting to eat a common occurrence?

WHY? Spite hovered over Rook and pointed at her empty plate. WHY EAT IF NO LIKE?

*The same reason I’m drinking this damned tea,* Lucanis grimaced.

Rook glanced up at him and said, “…so Lucanis here could finish the job.”

Mierda. He hadn’t been listening to them.

"Erm, yes,” he said quickly. Bellara had been upset about the bruises Calivan left — was Rook trying to pass that off as an intentional distraction again? “A most effective distraction.”

Rook dropped her gaze to her plate, noticed it was empty, and… pouted? She must still be hungry. He’d done a quick inventory of the kitchen and pantry while the others slept. How the four of them had been surviving on such bare minimum supplies, or why, he couldn’t fathom. He mulled it over for a moment, then excused himself to the pantry.

There was no reason Rook should go hungry. There were potatoes, and various spices labeled in flowing script, and he’d seen an onion, and a small amount of oil. Not much, but something.

Bellara was yammering away to Rook when he returned with the ingredients in hand. Spite followed him, staring intently at the food, but was mercifully silent in his apparent curiosity.

“Whatcha got there?” Rook quipped, craning her neck as he passed them.

“Not much,” he said truthfully. “And generally you would eat it *with* your eggs, but after should not be a problem, I don’t think. Do you like potatoes? Onions?”

“Sure…?” She sounded… unconvincing.

“Lucanis, do you cook?” Bellara asked excitedly.

“I do,” he nodded, then indicated the oven to Rook as a question. She smirked at him, standing slightly to blow a small fireball off her fingertips, over the chairs, and into the chamber. Mierda. He turned quickly to begin his task.

“It has, of course, been some time,” he continued, beginning to peel the potatoes.

“Do you need help?” Both women asked in unison, then dissolved into giggles. Lucanis wasn’t sure if it was endearing… or annoying. It had been so long since he’d simply… existed in the same place as other people.

“I don’t,” he said. Hesitated. “But if one of you wanted to dice the onion? I would not object.”

He actually hated the idea. But… he’d be working with these people. He should know if they knew their way around a knife. And he should probably *attempt* to be… friendly, at least.

Two chairs scraped the floor, then Bellara spoke.

“Oh, um. Rook, why don’t… *I* do it? You did the mission yesterday, and I’m sure you’re tired..”

Rook chuckled. “It’s okay Bel. I already admitted all I can cook is eggs. You can say you don’t want me preparing your food.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I mean you just made me those eggs. And they were great!”

“But you don’t want to risk me leaving behind a fingertip?”

“Rook —“

“It’s okay Bellara. I’m teasing. Go show that onion who’s boss.”

Before long, Lucanis had the potatoes sizzling. The door opened twice more, ushering in both Neve and Lace in turn. Both commented on the amazing smell, then expressed surprise that it was Lucanis cooking. He was glad Bellara had reminded him they should make enough for them, as well, even if Lace seemed somewhat… apprehensive. A healthy dose of suspicion in that one.

He decided their constant chatter amongst themselves was odd, but not as disruptive as he’d feared. When the hash was finished, he scooped a serving onto five plates. Bellara helped him pass them out. He sat across from Rook, waiting to take a bite until she had.

She was talking to Neve about going to Minrathos that day. She finished her sentence, then stabbed a few cubes of potato without really looking at her plate, and popped them into her mouth.

Rook made a surprised noise, and her eyes got wide. For a split second, he was nervous, but then they closed. She began to chew with an audible “mmmm!”

Neve started to laugh. “All right there, Rook?”

Rook’s blush started across her cheekbones and rapidly spread to her nose and up to the tips of her ears. Her eyes flew back open and she swallowed quickly. Lucanis began to eat, disappointed her enjoyment had been interrupted, though he wasn’t really sure *why*. It was of course always nice when someone liked something you’d made. It had been a long while since he’d experienced it.

“I’m so sorry,” Rook said, dropping her eyes to her plate and beginning to push the potatoes around with her fork. “This is just… really good.”

“What did they feed you at Weisshaupt, anyway?” Lace asked. Lucanis beginning to eat seemed to have been reassuring enough to her that he hadn’t poisoned them all, as she cautiously took a bite.

Weisshaupt… a Grey Warden then. He wouldn’t have guessed if he’d had a hundred guesses. He’d never met a Warden so… animated.

I TOLD YOU. SHE SMELLS LIKE. BLIGHT.

Well, that was true. Now he knew why Spite had said that.

“Mead and bread, mostly,” Naimeryn chuckled. “And potatoes sometimes, but never like this.”

She indicated her plate with her fork and finally took another bite.

“No meat?” Bellara wanted to know.

“Oh sure, for special occasions,” she shrugged. “I’m sure the higher ranking Wardens eat whatever they want, whenever they want, but there’s a lot of us in Weisshaupt at any one time, and feeding what’s essentially a standing army with a collectively ravenous appetite isn’t cheap.”

“You know Rook,” Neve said thoughtfully, “if you’re not careful, I’m going to start feeling sorry for you.”

“What? Why?” She asked earnestly, but Neve only chuckled.

“When we’re in Dock Town later, remind me. I’ll treat you to my favorite fried fish.”

Rook perked up. “Really? I’ve always wanted to try fish!”

The kitchen lapsed into awkward silence. Rook’s face went red again, and she quickly looked back to her plate again.

“Sorry… I mean, you don’t have to do that. I can get myself lunch.”

Long after the others had gone, and Lucanis washed the dishes from the meal, the exchange continued to play over and over again in his head. Rook was an open book. Not exactly a wise trait for the leader of a team out to hunt down actual gods to have. He remembered Spite’s taunt from the night before.

*HOW SWEET.* the demon had said.

She… *was.* And if it were an act, she was the best damn actress he’d ever met.

The dishes done, Lucanis hunted down a scrap of paper, and a pen. It was a modest kitchen, but he didn’t need it to be gourmet to make sure these women *survived.*

He shook his head. It was incomprehensible to him how they’d done so until now.

And with that thought, he began to make a list.

[pinkskiessss]

LACY - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc

Warnings: internalized homophobia, mature content

A/N: I feel like alot of the last few chapters have been about Layla really struggling with coming to terms with identity/sexuality. Which I wanted to write because I wanted to show the process of really coming to terms with being queer and how it isn’t just something you immediately accept in one night, based on my own experiences personally ofc. So with that being said, I hope someone else can find comfort in her character or relates. (Also forgot to write this in, but for anyone wondering, Layla has been involved “romantically” with guys in the past, but I think it’s just a realization now for her that it was like a cover up for who she actually is, because she’s feeling emotions she’s never felt towards a man, towards a woman if that makes sense. Basically she’s gay lol hope this helps! Which like same girl) Anywayssss sorry for the rant, enjoy loves!

—

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the folded note on my bedside table.

I hope you feel better. Text me when you get up.

I exhaled slowly, the events of last night still swirling in my mind. Her low voice, her subtle touches—it made my skin crawl, the way I feel when she touches me. Even if it’s only for a second. The way it made something stir inside me that I couldn’t ignore, but couldn’t accept either.

I grabbed my phone and texted her, my fingers shaking slightly.

Me: Hey, I just woke up. Thanks for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry for being such a mess.

Her reply came quickly, almost like she’d been waiting for me.

Paige: Don’t trip. You’re good. Seriously.

Paige: You feeling better?

Me: Yeah, a little. Thanks again.

There was a short pause before her next message came through.

Paige: Can we talk? In person, if you’re not busy?

I hesitated, biting my lip. I didn’t want to see her, not right now. I’d rather save myself the embarrassment. But I couldn’t avoid it forever.

Me: Sure. You can come over if you want. I’m heading to the gym soon to practice, though.

Paige: Volleyball grind? Big game coming up, right?

Me: Yeah, it’s the regional final this weekend. If we win, we’re in the Final Four.

Paige: No pressure or anything

Me: Tell me about it lol

Paige: Can I come practice with you for fun cause why not? I won’t distract you to much I swear.

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her trying to play volleyball.

Me: Ok sure, if you insistttt

When Paige arrived, she was dressed in basketball shorts and a black tee, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Somehow she always looks perfect like all the time. It’s crazy actually.

—

We set up the net, and Paige was already messing around with the volleyball like she had no idea what she was doing. I tossed her the ball.

“Alright, ready?” I asked.

She caught it but didn’t seem to know what to do next. “Uh, sure. Can’t be too hard.”

Her first attempt was… not great to say the least. The ball went flying across the gym, and she just stood there, looking at it like it had betrayed her.

“Okay, so let’s just act like you didn’t see that,” she said, laughing at herself.

I couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension easing just a little. “Maybe try not to hit it like you’re dunking a basketball.”

“Yo I didn’t sign up for this kind of slander, not to much on me,” she said with a grin. “But fine, I’ll try again.”

We kept going, and she got a little better—or at least, less terrible. But I couldn’t focus. My mind kept drifting back to last night, what I asked her in a drunken haze. How awkward it feels that I got drunk and slipped into a vulnerable state where I felt comfortable enough to ask her how she knew she was gay. Like come on Layla, why do you always have to make shit weird.

I tried to push it out of my mind, but when she stood beside me, her shoulder brushing mine as we took a break, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The kind of knot that made me want to run. To escape this feeling.

“Layla,” Paige said softly, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

I glanced at her, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She didn’t seem convinced. She took a step closer, her eyes searching mine. “You sure? You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine if it’s not, you know this.”

I shook my head, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Paige. I don’t even know why I asked you what I did. It just… felt like something I needed to say. I was really drunk and confused I guess. But now, I just feel… weird.”

Paige’s expression shifted, a flicker of something defensive in her eyes. “Weird how?”

I was silent, except for the sound of my breath, heavy and uneven. I could feel the weight of Paige’s words pressing down on me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside me was breaking. I didn’t know how to fix it.

“I just don’t get it, Layla,” Paige said, her voice a little shaky but firm. “Why are choosing to continuously hurt yourself by denying the facts.”

“I’m not. I just—” I paused, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want people to look at me like it’s all they see when I play. I don’t want to be judged. People already say enough disgusting stuff online about queer people. Imagine what they would say if they found out an athlete they looked up to secretly liked the same gender. It would hurt my career so much if people found out Paige, you don’t get it.”

Paige’s face tightened, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell, Layla? Are you seriously forgetting that I’m gay myself? I would get it. People speculate about my sexuality all the time, and yeah, it’s obvious. Everyone knows it. Sure, there’s a small percentage of people who hate on me for it, and I see it. But if I let that control my life, I’d be a pretty shitty person. People always have their opinions, and most of them are garbage, but you can’t let them define how you see yourself. You’re letting people on the internet make you think you’re wrong for feeling how you feel. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

I flinched at her words, the anger in her voice cutting deeper than I expected. I didn’t answer, my heart pounding in my chest. She was right. She knew exactly what it was like to feel out of place. But I couldn’t help the way I felt.

“I’m sorry,” Paige says quietly, her voice suddenly soft, regret seeping into her tone. “I shouldn’t have said that the way I did at all. I shouldn’t have gotten that mad, I just hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

My hands were shaking now, and I wiped at my eyes, feeling the tears I’d been holding back start to fall. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop any of it.

Paige saw me crying, and her expression softened instantly. She stepped forward, reaching out to gently grab my arms, pulling them away from my face. “Layla, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I looked up at her, my chest tight. “It’s not you, I just don’t know what to do, Paige. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to make this go away.”

Paige’s eyes softened as she held my arms. “You don’t have to make it go away, Layla. You don’t have to figure it out right now. But please, don’t hate yourself for it. You’re not disgusting, or weird. You’re… you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Her words hit me like a wave, and for the first time, I felt like I could breathe. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as lost as I thought.

“I really care for you,” Paige continued, her voice low and sincere. Hearing you talk about yourself like that—it hurts me. It hurts to see you think you’re not worth it. You are. You really are.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. I stepped closer to her, not sure what I was doing but knowing I needed to be near her. “I’m sorry, too,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

She smiled softly, her hand brushing against my cheek. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want you to know you’re not alone in this. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I felt a pull in my chest, an undeniable connection that I couldn’t ignore. I leaned in slightly, my breath catching in my throat. I was close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, to see the way her blue eyes softened, the way her pink lips parted just slightly. My heart raced, the air thick with unspoken words, with everything we hadn’t said yet.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop. The world around us faded, leaving just the two of us in this fragile, suspended moment. I could hear the soft sound of her breathing, the way it matched mine, both of us caught in the tension that had been building between us.

I barely registered that I was moving closer until our noses were almost touching, the smallest breath between us. I could feel the heat of her body against mine, the way her cologne lingered in the air, intoxicating and all-consuming. I could feel the pull, stronger now, undeniable, and it was like something inside me snapped.

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned in, closing the space between us, and my lips brushed against hers in the softest kiss. It was tentative at first, a question, a hesitation, but it felt right. Her lips were warm and inviting, soft as velvet, and I couldn’t help but press into her, deepening the kiss just slightly, my hands finding their way to her neck, pulling her closer.

Her lips moved against mine with a gentle pressure, and I responded instinctively, my body leaning into hers, craving more. There was no fear, no doubt. Just the rush of the moment, the way her touch made everything else fade away. It felt right.

But then, just as quickly as it started, I pulled away, breathless, my chest heaving. I looked at her, my heart pounding in my ears, and I saw the same intensity reflected in her eyes.

“Paige,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I—”

She didn’t give me a chance to finish. Before I could say another word, she pulled me back to her, her lips crashing against mine with a hunger that took me by surprise. This time, there was no hesitation, no softness. Her hands were on my waist, pulling me even closer, and I could feel the urgency in her kiss, the way she needed me as much as I needed her.

I kissed her back with everything I had, my hands threading through her hair, pulling her even closer, if that was even possible. I could feel the heat between us, the way our bodies pressed together, desperate to feel more. It was a kiss that left no room for doubt, no space for anything but the raw, overwhelming undeniable connection between us.

—

Taglist:

@unadulteratedcyclepaper

[summertimesadnessirl]

This is the opposite of good advice.

Canceled plans don't come from someone thinking your time has no value because you have hobbies.

I used to think that, too!

Then I tried it.

Having something else to do will maybe make you not feel as sad anymore when someone cancels.

Saying no to someone several times when they try to get you to do something they want you to do or ignoring people when they do that doesn't help because you're ignoring them either.

I tried it both ways.

Having more things to do will make it less unpleasant for you.

If it's related to a need, like needing steady work or something else, you will have an easier time getting a need met.

You cannot train people to stop being inconsiderate by not giving them what they want when they are inconsiderate.

They will just leave or start fights with you over nothing and be mean.

You can try to negotiate.

Or you can wait til they come back later.

Eventually they will figure out how to approach you correctly at random intervals.

Rewarding them won't make them remember.

Asking them and reminding them won't make them remember.

You have to just remember that your time has no value.

No one will ever respect your time. Just like no one will ever remember what you need or things you told them about your feelings and thoughts. No one will ever be considerate of you in any way until you die.

Respect is not something that people will give you.

You also cannot take it.

The more I look around, the more I realize this is not something that applies only to me.

Most people don't seem to respect like... anyone.

The way to stand on business is to have hard rock values and hobbies. A lot of you suffer because you're pathetic little chameleons that learned to survive their childhood by blending in and masking (I'm looking STRAIGHT at the autistics and daughters of strict dads right now. 100% straight shots being taken) and have nothing to stand on PLUS you just- don't have a life. Of course you tolerate bs you have nothing to do all day. Some of us have jobs and horses to ride and paintings to make where will I get the time to be taking BS hun I have work to do? Bark at the void or something. You have all the time in the world so you are accessible enough for people to know they can simply just- cancel plans and your spineless wet tissue ass back will give in. If you are always available why would anyone prioritize you? Get a job and hobby so you also cancel plans and make them earn you like a woman with a working mind. Get busy.

Back to the main point- you can't stand on business because yu are nothing and have nothing to stand on. I'm not trying to degrade you- mind you- its just I kinda have no choice but to look down on you when you are on the floor. What am I even on rn?

Well. The first sign someone grew up middle class is lack of a spine and intense masking. The one thing the lower class and upper class have in common is the inability to give a fack. Lower class because they have nothing to lose & upper class because they are, in fact, better than you. In a capitalist society money is a marker of status = position don't even attempt moral police me. Elon Musk can say whatever bc wtf will you do? Tweet about it? The homeless will say whatever they want, too, because what will you do? Cancel him and make him lose the job he doesn't even have? What is the worst you can do and what makes you think he won't survive it. It's the middle class that's the breeding ground for snakes because they have a shit ton to lose and do not have enough resources to avoid the consequences of it. All the doormats and snakes and chameleons and wet tissues and untrustables are in the taxpaying bracket.

The first sign someone is elite is their level of idgafness. Not fur. Not that black American express. Not Patek Phillipe. IDGAFness. The princess and the pea absolute queen princess downright refusing to sleep on a bed with a pea is elitism. On tiktok they call it black cat energy. My way or no way. The way men know what to do with you isn't how much Chanel you're dripping in is how much you will not only not take bs but how willing you are to start sheet if you need to. Conflict avoidance is middle class behavior. I know this drop dead gorgeous reeeech man that's pining for the most average a little overweight by western standards (which are world's beauty standard, don't gaslight yourself) probably a solid 3 on a good day because the left him mid date after he said something she didn't like, blocked him on all platforms and went on another date with some other guy a week later. I have seen the women that chase after him but she's the prize. Doesn't give one single F. Last I heard he booked a helicopter and she just- didn't go. Tried the guilt tripping got blocked. Tried the talking sheet and she just- moved on and made him look like an idiot. When I say the man is piniiiiiiiiiiiing like there aren't magazine cover models that would throw it back in every angle. She is the elite one here because she just doesn't care. She stands on business. Queen behavior. 10/10, I'm also very in love with her and have officially joined the competition.

You can't be elite not because you're broke and ugly but because you can't stand on business because you don't have business to stand on. A lot of you just- aren't anyone so you become everyone. Chameleon behavior. Because you are afraid of conflict. A cat scratching you knowing full well you are what feeds it is elitism. Cookie Lyon (EMPIRE) is elitism. The I will burn this building down if i need to is elitism. And I don't mean randomly picking up fights 24/7 that's being ratchet, elite women are polite and well mannered. I mean standing on business. I mean sending the order back when it's not what you ordered. I mean just not paying your stylist when they don't do what you asked. I mean stating- clearly- where your boundaries are and not taking a single step back. I mean when a man tries isht with you downright calling them out on it loudly instead of trying to hash it down or laughing your way out of it. I mean not trying to buy approval by self sacrifice. I mean letting that one coworker know actually no I will not be doing that because it's your job not mine. I mean not answering any work related calls on your day off. I mean taking all your paid leaves. I mean shaming back the people that shame you as loudly as they are trying to shame you- probably more. I mean crossing every line the second one of yours is crossed. elitism. Standing on business. Boundaries. Whis is where you end and I begin, you cross this I cross you.

[mj-iza-writer]

winged whumpee learning to fly? it doesn't have to be a specific kind of flying animal (like I don't really care if it's a parrot or a bat or something) just.... wings. learning to fly. etc etc.

I imagined an avian/human hybrid. Hope that is okay. I love that hybrid so much.

I wanted to write this in the eyes of people who have disabilities, and how people may interact with them. I think the disabled community needs a lot of awareness. They are important just like everyone else. I wanted to represent the difficulties they may face in a world not made for them. Even people who love them and want to help may have a hard time with pushing too hard. I hope I did well in bringing a little representation to the community.

Whumpee wrapped their wings around themself and fiddled with their feathers.

Caretaker was in a different room preening a few of their feathers before Whumpee's flight lesson.

Whumpee had injured their wings at a young age. The damage happened before they could learn to fly with all of the other young avians. They were behind now.

Caretaker had adopted them after the injuries. Their parents left them after the damages. A normal thing amongst the avian culture Whumpee grew up in. A flightless avian didn't have much to work with. They wouldn't be able to follow the others' migratory patterns if they had to relocate. Even most jobs require flight. They would never survive.

"Are you ready Whumpee?", Caretaker called.

"I don't know, it looks like it's going to rain", Whumpee looked out the window. They were greeted with a beautiful sunny day.

"Does it now?", Caretaker chuckled, "I guess it's good thing we won't melt then."

Whumpee turned to them when they stepped into the room.

"I-I don't want to do this. I fell last time. I might hurt my wings again", Whumpee frowned.

"Your doctor said your wings are ready for flight. Your wings are strong and are able to withstand falling", Caretaker came closer and hugged Whumpee. They wrapped them with their bigger, stronger wings, "we all fall. It's important to get back up and try again."

Whumpee rested their forehead on Caretaker's chest.

"I won't always be here to help you Whumpee", Caretaker ran their hand through Whumpee's feathery hair and rested it on Whumpee's shoulder, "you'll need to know how to fend for yourself."

"Don't talk like that Caretaker. My parents already left me. I don't want to lose anyone else", Whumpee pouted.

"I'm sorry, but it's only fact. I don't want to leave you either, but...."

"I know, but can we stop talking about it", Whumpee interrupted.

Caretaker sighed, "okay.... let's go get into the air then."

Whumpee watched Caretaker get a running start.

Caretaker's strong wings snapped against the wind and they were up.

Whumpee sighed as they unfurled their misshapen small wings, "how am I going to fly with wings like this?"

Another avian flew by and waved at Caretaker.

"No one wants to acknowledge the disabled avian. Everyone believes I should be dead", Whumpee huffed.

Caretaker hovered nearby, their wings flapped slowly to keep them up.

"Then prove them wrong", Caretaker smiled, "prove to them that you have the right to be alive, and to continue living. Prove to yourself that you can do this. Prove to others who have misshapened wings that they can also fly."

Whumpee wiped their eyes and nodded.

"Alright come on", Caretaker encouraged.

Whumpee ran forward a little and worked to flap. They stumbled over some rocks and fell.

"O-ow", Whumpee cried out.

Caretaker hurried to land and help Whumpee.

"Yes that hurts", Caretaker knelt down.

Whumpee's legs were torn up from the rocks. Blood steeped out from several gashes.

"Here let's get you cleaned and bandaged", Caretaker started to help them up, "we can work on taking off later. Let's work on flapping. I'll get you in the air and you can practice flapping and gliding."

"Do we have to?", Whumpee winced, "it really hurts."

"Just for a little bit", Caretaker helped brace Whumpee as they walked back to their house, "I know you can do it."

"Ca-Caretaker, you're not listening to me. My body says no. It doesn't want to", Whumpee argued, "I can't do it right now."

Caretaker paused, "I-I'm sorry Whumpee. Uh, you're right. Let's get you bandaged. We can talk about this after."

Caretaker silently cleaned and patched Whumpee.

"You're mad at me now?", Whumpee whispered, "I-I didn't mean to yell like that. You were only trying to help me. You've always tried to help me. I'm not doing much for myself."

Caretaker cleared their voice.

"I'm not mad at you dear. You were absolutely right in what you said. I was not allowing you to express your needs. I was so set on getting you in the sky I was missing what you were saying. I'm mad at myself for getting out of line", Caretaker set aside their first aid, "I am listening now. How do you want to approach this next attempt at flying?"

"I don't know. It all seems so hopeless", Whumpee sighed.

"It's not hopeless", Caretaker cupped Whumpee's face, "it's hard, not hopeless. We can do hard things. Let's go ahead and rest today because of the injury."

"It's not fair that it has to be so hard though. I didn't ask for this", Whumpee pouted.

"I know, just remember, no one knows how to fly when they start. I fell just as much as you when I first started", Caretaker smiled, "I fell on my face once and broke my nose even. That's why it's crooked. It will take time. I'm here for you and I want to help you."

Whumpee sat outside and watched others flying.

"I don't even know what it feels like up there. I've never gone that high", Whumpee sighed.

"Watching the others?", Caretaker smiled as they sat down.

Whumpee nodded, "I can't imagine how good it feels to be up that high. I was up there once, and didn't get to enjoy it much."

"Yes, you crashed pretty hard that day", Caretaker looked up.

"Do you really think I can fly. My wings are so ugly and misshapened."

Caretaker looked at them again, "I think if you truly want to, you can. You may not be able to get high up, but I think we have a good chance. I want to encourage you to at least keep trying. I know it's hard to see everyone else having an easy time. I can understand how difficult that feels. Your feelings are valid, my dear."

Caretaker stood, "come on. I have an idea."

Caretaker got themself up and hovered just above Whumpee.

"Hold onto my leg", Caretaker grinned, "hold on tight."

"I don't want to fly", Whumpee whimpered.

"You won't have to", Caretaker lifted up a little to keep their altitude, "I want to give you taste of what it feels like up there. You can open your wings if you want, but you don't have to let go of me."

Whumpee looked at them questioningly, but stood and wrapped their arms around Caretaker's leg.

"Woah", Whumpee gasped as they left the ground. They burried their face into Caretaker's leg.

"Doing alright" Caretaker called down as they continued to climb and build altitude, "I'm about to flatten out, so hold on."

"Okay", Whumpee mumbled into the pants.

Caretaker looked around a little.

"You know it's prettier to look. My pant leg isn't why you came up here."

Whumpee peeped up.

"I'm up?", Whumpee gasped.

"Your up", Caretaker chuckled, "this is about the elevation the others were flying at."

"Can we go higher?", Whumpee blurted out bravely.

"Hold on", Caretaker started to climb, "this is about as high as I willingly fly. I won't take you any higher."

Whumpee rested their chin on Caretaker's leg.

"Are you enjoy the ride?", Caretaker peaked back at them.

"It's amazing up here", Whumpee's eyes sparkled, "I can't believe what it looks like down there. The earth looks so different."

"Yes. The city is up ahead", Caretaker pointed out, "we won't go into the city because of how busy the sky is. I can't maneuver very well with you holding onto me."

"Okay", Whumpee watched the city for a few moments until Caretaker had turned away and started back to their home.

"Try to unfurl you wings", Caretaker lowered themself a little.

"Caretaker... I."

"You don't have to let go of me. Just practice a little of the flapping you've learned. Feel what it feels like for your wings to hit the air", Caretaker sighed.

"Won't I mess your thrust up by doing that?", Whumpee frowned as they opened their wings, "that can affect your flight patterns."

"Maybe a little, but it's fine. My wings will keep us up", Caretaker turned to see Whumpee's wings out, "they look good. Turn your left a little up... its lagging a little... yep perfect."

Whumpee worked to beat their wings against the wind.

"You've got perfect form", Caretaker encouraged, "you look great."

"Thanks", Whumpee frowned, "c-can I try something?"

"The clouds don't taste like anything. You can't eat them", Caretaker chuckled, "I've tried."

Whumpee suddenly let go.

"Whumpee", Caretaker yelled as they froze in the air and looked down.

Whumpee was dropping, but they were trying more than ever to stay up.

"Come on... come on", Whumpee cried as the ground came closer and closer.

They looked up and saw that Caretaker was chasing after them.

"Keep flapping Whumpee. I've almost got you", Caretaker yelled, "you have to keep up enough so I can catch you and not crash."

Caretaker needed to catch Whumpee with at least fifty feet space from the ground. That was their hard deck. Anything lower, they risked crashing into the ground and injuring themself and Whumpee.

Whumpee suddenly lifted a little.

"I-I did it", Whumpee yelled.

"Keep doing it", Caretaker yelled as they worked to catch up with Whumpee.

"Brace yourself", Caretaker yelled as they grabbed Whumpee.

Whumpee was grabbed.

Caretaker grunted, at the sudden jar of grabbing Whumpee.

"That hurt", Caretaker grunted again.

Whumpee looked up at them worriedly.

"I'm alright. I'm too old to be doing stuff like this. My rescue mission days are in the past", Caretaker sighed.

"I'm sorry Caretaker. I-I had a moment of bravery, and it was fleeting", Whumpee whispered.

"A little heads up would have been better. Let's try for that next time", Caretaker hovered just above the ground and dropped Whumpee. They landed right next to Whumpee.

Caretaker tiredly sunk to the ground, "ugh... I haven't flown like that in a long time."

"Are you okay?", Whumpee looked at them worriedly, "I'm so sorry."

"I'm alright.... just need a second", Caretaker smiled weakly as they took some deep breaths, "though that could have been handled better, I'm glad you tried. I'm glad you were able to keep yourself up."

"I'm sorry... I really am", Whumpee looked at them worriedly, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Maybe a little. I'm alright. I promise Whumpee", Caretaker opened their arms to get Whumpee to come closer for a hug, "just be a little sore tomorrow."

Whumpee shyly hugged Caretaker.

"I don't want you to be afraid of flying again because of this. You kept yourself up... even if it was momentarily. You did it. This is exactly what we needed to happen. We can build off of this", Caretaker cupped Whumpee's chin gently, "don't lose the smile I saw up there. I think you fell in love with the sky. My plan worked."

Whumpee's lip quivered.

"It's alright", Caretaker smiled, "you were so brave."

Whumpee wiped their eyes and nodded.

"We can try again tomorrow. No promises if I'll be flying though", Caretaker stood up, "I have definitely tired myself out. Let's go get some food."

"Okay", Whumpee followed.

"You got yourself up", Caretaker stated excitedly as they followed Whumpee into the house.

"I did", Whumpee turned excitedly.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath

@porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

@freefallingup13 @notpeppermint

@cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet

@painfulplots @whumpbump

@everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson

@legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace

@whumpanthems @lavndvrr

@ivymyers @starfields08000

@a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311

@whumpy-mountains @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @castiels-favorite-hunter

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

@bacillusinfection @whumpsandbumps

@tobiasbones @octopus-reactivated

@string-of-broken-hearts @weirdthingweee

[therulerofallpotatos]

If you find yourself stressing over every action to be the most moral and going to debilitating lengths to make sure you're daily life never negatively affects someone in any way or..say, your favorite artists are "good" people before enjoying a song or a movie or something, or even treating other people badly for not going to those same debilitating lengths then remember Chidi Anagonye who literally made himself and everyone around him miserable and ended up in the bad place for having moral OCD when the reality was that you have no choice but to participate in your society no matter how flawed it is and while that's not an excuse to not try, you should not expect yourself or anyone else to be "perfect".

[crowskullls]

Thinking about Minute’s insane morals and how he doesn’t have a single genuinely bad bone in his body. He gets confused when he’s betrayed, he begs for explanations when people are cruel. He would rather make amends than hold onto grudges. He forgives and forgets. He teams with the same guy (Wemmbu) that’s betrayed him countless of times, and still trusts him anyways. Even if a bit reluctant at first. Even if he knows he’ll still end up betrayed.

Like this guy has PROBLEMS. He so morally… Good. He can stoop down to other people’s level, he can play dirty, he can be intimidating. He doesn’t really let himself get walked all over. But he’d MUCH rather just hang out and have peace. He gets upset when people are negative because he’s just SO optimistic. He always has to see the Good side of things, even when it’s a horrendous situation.

Even when he has reasons to be angry and upset and spiteful, he still chooses to hold his head high and STICK to his morals. He’s Stubborn. He tries so hard to see Why people are evil and hurtful, but he can’t personally understand. He needs to be the hero. He needs to save others. Because who else is going to do it? Who else has the resources, the strength, the backbone, the reputation? He gives items out to people with no expectation for reimbursement. He’s always saving other server members, even his enemies, from tricky situations.

He tries hard to remain all mysterious and brooding. He tries to seem calm and collected. But he wears his heart on his sleeve. You can hear every emotion in his voice, in the glint in his eyes. The way his smile upturns when he finds something amusing, or how his eyebrows furrow when he’s trying to piece something together. He’s an incredibly emotional guy, and he’s not good at hiding it. He’s notoriously a bad liar. He gives himself away every time he opens his mouth. It’s WHY he’s so genuine, so easy to trust.

It’s easy to get under his skin, but he still holds his ground. Because he has to. Because the world is cruel and brutal, and everyone is out to get him. Killing is second nature on most SMPs, especially on Lifesteal. But he can defend himself. Most other people can’t. He’s paranoid, and watches events from the sidelines (even if it annoys other players.) He always has extra food and fireworks to give out. Despite covering himself in dark colors, and hiding from large groups, he’s still looking out for others. He’s still the beacon of hope people need. He’s so annoyingly optimistic and cheerful that it’s sickening to most. He refuses to let himself become bitter and pessimistic.

Anyways bro thinks he’s Batman.

[shvdwscng]

her  silence  and  evasiveness  had  certainly  left  the  commander's  mind  spinning  each  time  he  attempted  to  inquire.  now,  as  curious  as  he  was,  he  had  been  careful  in  his  inquiring,  never  too  direct  but  slipping  in  tidbits  of  his  own  childhood  in  day  court  in  hopes  that  she'd  share  hers.  what  she  did  share  however  were  vague  bits  that  did  began  to  connect  over  time,  but  never  quite  fully  forming  a  complete  picture.  the  only  thing  she'd  offered  him  entirely  was  tales  of  her  travels  as  he'd  once  requested  from  her  but  whenever  the  topic  circled  to  her  court,  it  wasn't  hard  to  miss  how  nerina  went  out  of  her  way  to  either  change  the  topic  or  return  it  to  him.  what  she  did  share  was  how  beautiful  her  court  was,  what  her  people  were  like  as  whole  but  of  the  dragomirs?  nothing.  it  certainly  had  fueled  his  suspicions  of  what  was  spoken  between  him  and  cedrian,  of  whatever  he  could  uncover  from  high  lady  alina  -  which  was  also  not  much  it  seemed.  perhaps  another  in  his  place  would  see  this  as  something  to  wary  of,  but  it  seemed  neither  his  high  lord  nor  alistair  himself  would  ever.  it  did  nothing  to  dissuade  the  commander,  when  he'd  all  but  found  himself  tangled  into  a  complication  of  wanting  this  lady  in  his  arms  more  than  anything  else.  he  should  be  wary  of  what  he  could  find,  but  he  was  not,  only  perhaps  a  different  ache  of  what  had  gone  in  her  family  that  left  her  so  tight-lipped.  so  when  he  urges  her  to  share,  even  now  as  he  all  but  reveals  how  much  he  wishes  to  be  with  her,  wants  to  embed  himself  in  every  bit  of  her  being,  her  words  do  cause  him  to  pause.  his  gaze  shifting  fully  to  meet  her,  not  entirely  surprise  of  her  words  but  in  the  manner  that  she  spoke  them.  "i  will  give  you  all  the  time,  so  long  as  you  intend  to  open  yourself  to  me."  he  knew  he  couldn't  push,  but  what  he  could  do  was  show  her  how  he  would  be  here.  that  their  little  game  that  had  began  had  evolved  into  something  that  neither  expected  and  neither  could  fight.  tucking  her  hair  gently  behind  her  ears,  he  pressed  a  kiss  to  her  temple,  "i  will  do  what  i  can  to  make  it  just  a  bit  easier  for  you  each  day."  it  was  then  he  knew,  without  a  doubt,  she  had  never  allowed  anyone  and  it  was  a  terrifying  thought  for  her,  but  then  wasn't  it  for  him,  too?  a  man  who  never  wished  to  settle,  certainly  not  after  watching  his  best  friend  grieve  his  wife  and  the  love  his  life  as  he  had,  now  wanted  nothing  more  than  to  call  this  captivating  his  lady  own?  it  was  gamble  for  him  too.  her  words  do  send  his  racing,  "together."  he  repeats  in  a  lower  murmur,  relieve  settling  in  him  to  hear  her  confirm  he  wasn't  alone  in  this.

truly,  it  was  hard  to  believe  she  thought  herself  as  a  wallflower,  when  nothing  about  her  from  her  beauty,  to  her  quick  wit,  and  sense  of  humor  would  ever  have  another  draw  that  conclusion.  he  supposed  he  hadn't  helped  matters  when  he  knew,  they  both  knew  he'd  perused  initially  only  for  his  high  lord's  sake.  then  so  had  she,  he  was  aware  of  this  too.  did  his  actions  somehow  add  cause  to  her  thoughts  of  herself?  he  supposed  he'd  be  working  every  moment  they  had  together  to  prove  to  her  she  was  nothing  of  that  sort  in  his  gaze  .  everything  about  her  was  unforgettable,  how  else  would  he  describe  every  night  he'd  laid  awake  in  his  bed  longing  to  go  to  her?  how  he  was  counting  minutes  and  hours  until  he  could  see  her  next  when  he  was  tied  up  in  commander  duties.  "it  never  was  true,  just  because  you  believe  so,  doesn't  make  it  so,  my  lady."  he  murmured,  but  his  words  and  voice  were  entirely  firm.  "nothing  about  you  can  be  mistaken  for  a  wallflower.  perhaps  you  did  not  notice,  but  i  did,  of  every  male  gaze  here  that  turned  in  your  direction  when  you  made  your  way  to  me  here."  alistair  took  great  pleasure  in  this  because  she  had  been  focused  on  the  commander  that  she  did  not  notice  her  admirers.  he  doesn't  waste  a  moment  when  he  see's  the  yearning  in  her  gaze  that  reflects  his  own,  claiming  her  mouth  in  a  searing  kiss  that  left  no  room  for  doubt.  the  moment  she  returned  kiss  with  equal  passion,  she  had  told  him  all  that  he  wished  to  know.  she  was  his.  he  never  quite  denied  himself  his  desires,  but  with  her  it  had  been  a  first  he  had  waited,  showed  such  an  incredible  amount  of  patience  that  certainly  had  been  worth  it.  "i  will  always  be  here  to  catch  you,  nerina,  i  swear  on  my  life.  you  don't  trust  easily,  i  will  prove  to  you,  i  can  be  trusted."  he  pressed  another  lingering  kiss  to  her  lips,  shifting  back  enough  to  peer  into  her  gaze.  "do  you  still  wish  to  be  here?  i  wish  to  be  alone  with  you."  he  would  leave  it  up  to  her  what  she  wished  to  do,  but  he  was  certain  he  wasn't  mistaking  her  desire.

the  way  she  was  raised  had  created  a  tangle  of  memories  with  sharp  edges  and  wounds  that  never  fully  healed.  spots  in  her  soul  that  scarred  over  and  still  ached  from  time  to  time.  nerina  didn't  like  to  think  of  her  childhood,  of  the  sounds  her  father's  feet  made  as  they  echoed  through  the  halls  of  the  summer  court.  children's  laughter  wa  rare,  warm  hugs  forgotten,  and  care  from  a  parent  all  but  impossible.  staff  stepped  in,  tried  to  help,  but  it  could  only  do  so  much.  her  siblings  were  distant  portraits  more  than  close  friends,  even  if  that  changed  as  of  late.  her  father  was  a  myth  more  than  a  man,  focused  on  his  own  vices  and  alina  rather  than  the  rest  of  them.  and  her  mother  ?  a  ghost  that  lingered  in  nerina's  reflection  but  never  stayed  long  enough  to  actually  help  the  girl.  in  truth,  if  nerina  talked  of  her  childhood  it  would  come  across  as  if  she  didn't  love  her  siblings,  and  she  did  so  incredibly  fiercely.  but  love  wasn't  enough  to  save  them  from  their  childhood,  and  in  their  adulthood  it  wasn't  easy  to  navigate  one  another.  the  way  they  grew  up  all  formed  their  traumas,  and  nerina's  had  taken  on  the  habit  of  being  incredibly  guarded  and  running  away  from  everything.  so  in  her  unwillingness  to  share  her  family  with  alistair,  it  had  far  more  to  do  with  her  mind  and  her  upbringing  than  not  trusting  him.  his  request  makes  her  bite  her  lip,  and  the  only  words  she  can  share  are,  "  be  patient  with  me,  alistair.  some  parts  of  my  soul  are  hard  to  share.  "  the  admission  flies  from  her  tongue  with  an  ease  she  hadn't  expected,  and  she  hopes  that  he  understands.  she  needs  him  to  understand.  even  if  it  hadn't  been  meant  to  happen  –  if  alistair  was  meant  to  mean  nothing  to  her,  bounding  into  her  life  with  his  charm  and  arrogance,  a  tongue  slicked  with  wit  and  dangerous  intentions  –  he'd  changed  all  her  plans.  that  flirty  banter  of  his  no  longer  seemed  laced  with  bad  intentions,  but  desires  that  threatened  to  pull  her  under.  his  sharp  arrogance  turned  into  a  charming  confidence,  and  nerina  found  that  she  wanted  to  linger  in  his  orbit  just  a  little  longer  each  time.  he  wasn't  just  another  face  in  the  crowd  anymore,  not  a  temporary  thrill  to  pass  the  time.  he  was  someone  she  wanted.  letting  him  in  would  be  terrifying,  but  she  knew  she  needed  to.  alistair  wasn't  someone  who  wanted  to  tame  her  either,  he  was  someone  who  complimented  her  very  soul.  "  i  think  we're  already  doing  that  together.  "  she  mumbles,  caught  up  in  the  heightened  moment,  the  emotions  swirling  in  her  chest  taking  over.

nerina  had  always  been  a  wallflower,  even  when  she  was  surrounded  by  friends  or  family  who  spoke  to  her  there  had  always  been  a  part  that  lingered  in  the  shadows.  she  preferred  it  this  way,  safe  and  able  to  observe  at  the  edge  of  the  space.  it  was  safe  there,  quieter.  for  someone  who  wasn't  a  social  butterfly  unless  she  needed  to  act  like  one,  wasn't  happy  to  be  at  events  like  this,  it  was  quite  substantial  that  she  would  happily  endure  it  with  alistair  at  her  side.  he  changed  her,  he  saw  her  in  a  way  nobody  other  than  her  siblings  ever  had  before.  and  he  found  her  in  the  place  she'd  often  gotten  overlooked.  they  didn't  meet  on  her  ship,  or  in  a  tavern  where  she  came  to  life,  they  met  at  court  where  she  remained  at  the  edge  of  the  room.  "  maybe  not  anymore.  "  she  agrees.  her  siblings  were  used  to  her  disappearing,  they  wouldn't  look  for  her  because  they  knew  she  was  fine.  it  wasn't  a  lack  of  care  but  an  understanding  of  who  she  was.  but  alistair,  he  may  know  her  but  he  would  still  notice  anything  she  did.  and  when  they  kissed  it  felt  like  sealing  her  fate  in  a  way  she  never  expected  to  want  before.  the  taste  of  him  lingered  on  her  lips,  a  promise  and  a  challenge  all  at  once.  alistair  was  something  entirely  new  to  her,  someone  who  didn't  fit  into  her  life  but  carved  out  a  space  for  himself  that  none  other  could  ever  fit.  she  couldn't  get  enough  of  him  either,  so  when  he  deepened  the  kiss  she  was  happy  to  let  him,  the  flavor  of  his  lips  bursting  in  her  mouth  and  making  her  want  more.  she  wouldn't  have  pulled  away,  but  the  distant  sound  of  music  reminds  her  that  they  are  still  at  the  festival.  his  words  send  a  thrill  down  her  spine,  and  she  feels  herself  clinging  to  him  at  this  point.  "  only  if  you  promise  to  always  catch  me.  "  because  stars,  she  was  already  falling  so  hard.

[rxttenfish]

merfolk in general are just. horrible horrible polyglots. their brains are already hardwired for language and quick language acquisition that remains active all their lives, further helped by retaining a high neural plasticity for their long lives, and especially enjoy complex language and language-based play and problem solving. but they also tend to have a lot of their society arranged where there's often multiple different languages at play within the same area, and only really stops being so once you get into especially small villages that have below the merfolk norm for outside contact. every merfolk alive today knows at least two languages, but most of them know far more than that, especially because one of those two will be the common-technical language. its been standardized and wide-scale implemented across the merkingdom after their dominance, to help bridge the gap between these different languages, basically as a successful version of esperanto. but its a trade language, and is mostly used for information you might want to reach as many people as possible, such as laws or business dealings or public announcements or the like. most merfolk don't view it as and don't treat it as a language proper, and its not what they prefer to converse in if they have another choice, usually finding it pretty limiting and restrictive, which is why its called common-technical.

miranda, being a royal who is regularly in contact with many different people around the merkingdom and regularly expected to be fully able to converse with them to do her job, knows just. so many languages. i might be changing exactly how many soon, but last time i counted it was in the low teens. like its just a perfect storm of her brain being wired for swift language acquisition and having a job that requires it and a position that means shes constantly around people from all around the merkingdom. not to mention having to know english too, which isn't just not her first language, it's not even her fourth language.

meanwhile, aaravi knows english and a little bit of hindi, less because of her mother and moreso because of her nana... its not that her mother never used it with her, but she was. less focused on using it or teaching aaravi, let's say. nana mishra uses it a lot more and is more interested in teaching aaravi when she asks her, especially in the intermittent period after her mom died and nana mishra was able to come back into her life to help aaravi pick up the pieces (though not after aaravi kind of. got left on her own. for an unfortunate amount of time). its just also fallen by the wayside with aaravi's whole Everything Else and kind of having a hard time accepting her nana's help and kind of being terrified of her (of no fault of her nana's, aaravi's just. she's just really traumatized after Everything, alright. having someone try to offer her help afterwards, especially when aaravi's scared of getting singled out as half human and half monster, is just. it's not something she can bring herself to trust.)

[spotaus]

Hi guys, this is usually what a doodle page ends up looking like <3 (oh, and @ancha-aus thought you might like this! Not writing but certainly fuel to my fire lol-)

This one is New Age filled!!! (Close-ups abd Lore beneath the cut!)

1) Night and Cross!

Night is actually very clingy once he's a teen. He doesn't usually realize it, but around the castle he'll snake to be closer to his Knights so long as there's no one he needs to keep his composure infront of is nearby. Cross is the one who's not used to physical touch (when it's not Ink ofc) so Night in his personal bubble makes his heart melt but also scares tf out of him <3

2) Error and Night's Meeting!

Error was carrying his whole life on his back and trying not to get arrested for unintentional property damage at this point, so when he saw the chance to get back at his brother and prove he was strong enough? Yeah, he got that on chance instantly. And was VERY smug when Nightmare chose him. (Also, Error is wearing gloves, so less Haphephobia)

3) Dream and Blue designs!

I think these are good tentative designs! Dream probably has a more regal fit, but he likes to play up that rugged exile look- He's inspired by Archers, while Blue takes on that classic Knightly-vibe. Their equipment is mostly stolen from Night's troops or brought with them from Blue's home kingdom.

Also, Dream is approx Killer's height at this point, shorter than Cross and *much* shorter than Apple!Nightmare. (Hc that Skeletons tend to be tinier in stature thanks to weird monster beauty standards. Horror and Geno's fam are outliers.)

4) Horror and Dust designs!

Horror is naturally a very *large* monster. He's very malnourished when Nightmare meets him, but by the time he's a Knight Nightmare has made sure that's no longer the case. He actually loves comfy, simple clothes, but to play up the whole 'strong mysterious' bit he wears a more barbaric Knight's garb. He doesn't mind acting scary, it's more fun that way :]. Dust is very very small, and envies horror sometimes for his size, but his tiny stature let's him control his body and move a lot quicker. He's very much based on a rogue, and usually covers the lower part of his face w/ a black cloth, and the upper part w/ his hood or mask. Dust only removes both to bathe, eat, or relax in a safe location. (Ignore that I can't draw the stupid gaster blaster lmao-)

These last two were space-fillers, but Cross and his Borzoi (Windmill, otherwise known as Milly (Killer named her-)) and really bad first wips of Ccino! I think Ccino was a chubby, happy toddler, but lost a lot of 'weight' (bone mass? Magic?) due to stress and pressure and bad eating habits. So it isn't until a while after the Coronation that he starts to relax abd feel safe enough to eat normal meals (Nightmare used to guilt him into eating snacks together, but as his boss (and younger brother) he can encourage it more often). By the time Killer shows he's still not quite healthy, but he's better. As more weight is lifted off his shoulders, the better he is. (That 'beauty' most people saw was a more stereotypical slimness, but Killer never stopped seeing Ccino as beautiful-) I think he never looked traditionally underweight, so no one noticed, and it was only much later that Night processed it. (And maybe it's why Dream hardly recognized him later on-)

[foundfamilywhump]

truly i don't care who thinks it's stupid or boring or "doesn't count" or can't be as intense as what they think of as "real whump" or whatever else, whump with comfort and recovery and caretaker(s) is always going to be my style of whump and i'm gonna have a blast vibing with people who also enjoy that

[crimeronan]

I can’t help but think about this situation from everybody out of the loop’s POV but IN PARTICULAR I am enamored with whatever the hell Darius is doing. I imagine he finds out after the fact because Lilith is Losing Her Shit. Like,

Lilith, kicking down Darius’ door mid-spiral, manic enough to honestly be considering lunging at the next person who speaks to her uninvited even if it’s Belos back from the goddamn dead: MMMMY KID BURNED HER HER WHOLE BRAIN TRYING TO ERASE HER OWN MEMORIES AND IT IS ALL MY FAULT I’M A TERRIBLE INFLUENCE AND A WORSE MENTOR-

Darius, who has been Minding His Goddamn Business: …I’m sorry, Amity did- okay, actually, you know What. That is absolutely something she would do. I am shocked this didn’t happen earlier, honestly. did she get the memories back.

Lilith: I… YES?? Mostly?? To my knowledge?? I Think???

Darius: oh, wonderful. well. better learn her ticks for when she’s gonna death spiral again. was she doing the rambly-avoidant thing? I bet she was doing the rambly-avoidant thing.

Lilith: (That One Face. Horrified and taken aback. You know the one.)

Darius, going back to Minding His Goddamn Business: look. she’s Fine. in like 2 days she’ll be back to beating up the Golden Guard and they’ll be even more insufferable about it because he’s seen her brain. it’s FINE. she’s like you. she needs to have a good mental breakdown every now and again to keep functioning. enrichment or whatever.

Lilith: …I never said,

Darius: look me dead in the eyes Lilith and tell me Hunter wasn’t the one crawling around in her brain.

Lilith: Fair Enough.

Also enamored with him approaching Willow afterwords (no idea how he would have found out that she was also in there but. I’m sure someone would tell him Eventually) and just being like. Hey. Did u have fun crawling around in the terror dome. I would just like to mention that u are totally allowed to use whatever you saw in there against Amity if she’s being insane okay. I trust your judgement as one of like 3 people here I actually respect. Anyway, if you ever need a normal conversation my door is open but only in the afternoons cause I’m not getting up that early in the morning. Have fun getting entangled with my baby idiots forever. use protection. Cool talk I’m going to go push Terra off a balcony now

this is all Delightful. yeah this is about how it'd go. darius is like [looking up] do i have to be responsible or did you guys sort it already?? oh thank the titan. i didn't want to get up

darius approaching willow afterward to be like "i see you're in the polycule now. oh, you're not?? nah you will be. anyway bye" thank you darius. that's the least helpful anyone's ever done it....

i think darius and lilith being bitchy @ each other is peak content and ALSO that darius immediately clocking that hunter went into amity's mind is peak content. darius is like yeah hunter would never let amity fry her brain. where would he put all his terrorist energy without her.