#tw canon character death mentioned

[quitealotofsodapop]

more Soft Boiled!

[the little red ribbon in her hair!!! And she has her own version of Macaque's scarf!!]

the red ribbon was meant to be phoenix feathers like Wukong's cap, and I like ti think her scarf may actually be a piece of Macaque's original scarf. the one he wears pre-death is different from his scarf post-resurrection, so maybe after he died Wukong wanted to keep a momento for himself/his unborn daughter. Macaque comes back to life and assumed the scarf, which was a gift from Wukong in the first place, had been rescinded as a show of them no longer being together. that is, until he recognizes the fabric hanging from the shoulders of a familiar black-furred child that just broke his nose mid shadow play.

[Wukong about to get a talking to the second his adoptive family gets a hold of him. Once the monkey recovers from the early labour, and has emotionally recovered from the rollercoaster that was Yuebei's birth ofc.]

I can imagine PIF helping as a sort of midwife through the whole thing, and being very supportive and giving a lot of great advice, having gone through a similarly rough pregnancy not overly long ago herself (I also like to think Red Son, due to the fire causing the pregnancy and birth complication, was also a premmie). aaanndd then the moment Wukong is ok again after Yuebei is confirmed ok she's turning into the most foul-mouthed, harshest, rage filled person in the room. the others don't bother scolding Wukong much, taking softer tones in despite their concern and annoyance, partly because she said it all first, and partly because they feel bad about how utterly devastating her rant was.

[It would be so cute if Yuebei first started crying over something completely normal - for some reason, I'm thinking it's something like Zhu Bajie trying to pull a funny face for her. Wukong is so relieved to hear his baby crying that he doesn't even scold his pilgrim brother for scaring her!]

she's awake, but barely, and still so, so quiet. then, admist the other pilgrims quiet fussing over her, Zhu Bajie tries to lighten the mood by making a face. she starts wailing. Wukong, who was just about ready to go out like a light, instantly is next to the crib, picking her up and both trying to comfort her and himself as he cries in joy and relief. the others have a similar joyous reaction, except for Bajie, who is very wounded by the thought of being ugly enough to make a baby cry.

[Wukong would be so protective of his little Moon Comet Star. She was so sickly and weak as a baby, that he worries about ever letting her leave places he knows to be safe.]

maybe another lasting affect of her brief encounter with the fire is sever asthma. not great for a premature newborn. I imagine it would be something that sticks with you if your baby is constantly wheezing, coughing, unable to really make sounds, struggling to eat, struggling to breath, and maybe even stops breathing entirely entirely at times. And with almost nothing you can do, as back when she was born their wouldn't really have been much treatment or medicine for things like asthma. the constant worry of Yuebei suddenly not being able to breath probably means she never really got to go places, especially without her Baba. heaven forbid is she also has any seasonal allergies. not to say Wukong was a total helicopter parent, but he definitely worried.

Wukong is aware enough to understand that this is not a normal, or ideal childhood, so now that she's a bit bigger and stronger he's really trying to not lose his mind with anxiety every time MK takes her somewhere new off island without him. he even tries to encourage her to go out, so even if he has worries and a few different concerns when MK mentions the noodle shop all got tickets plus an extra one for the his daughter to a shadow play he tries not to stifle anyone's fun.

[That and I can imagine Wukong took her to stay with Guanyin on her unaging island for a while to help her health improve.] + [I bet even with Guanyin, "Cousin" Nezha, and the very rare corespondance with PIF and Red Son, Yuebei spends a lot of her childhood lonely]

as mentioned above, with her having been so sick she def would have spent a lot of time at Guanyin's. she's a renowned healer, and Guanyin is someone he trusts dearly to boot, so going to the goddess is a win-win in his eyes.

and yeah. between not being allowed to go out to new places much due to being a sickly child, and Wukong's reputation and not having anyone to connect with other then busy celestials, there's not much chance to go exploring. the monkeys are fun, but they and her baba treat her very delicately even when playing. her baba is awesome in her eyes, and its one thing for your parent to be someone you can call a best friend, but its a little different when your parent is your only friend. its why, despite not liking him much, she jumps at MK's offer to take her off island and into the city without her baba sometimes.

I feel like she'd make fast friends with Bai He once the LBD fiasco is over.

[Yuebei is gonna have a time when she starts understanding whats really going on with the Noodle Gang, and why her family "suddenly" can't remember her. Wukong blames himself for not explaining it better to her earlier, but hadn't wanted to dump so much loss on his babygirl all at once - it was a lose-lose situation.]

Yuebei learning and coming to understand what's happened probably ends up being the b-plot of an episode. maybe "Amnesia Rules", instead of Wukong getting his memories back by getting hit over the head, it happens because he realizes through Yuebei having an emotional breakdown over the others, and now her own father, having forgetton her and he realizes that she's describing them having reincarnated and he's like "ah! that's what happened." and explains more indepth what that means to her. the others hear of her feeling about "them forgtting her" for the first time during this, and can't help but feel bad and try and help Wukong explain. she probably clings to her baba for a long time after, and stops being as cld to the others. maybe even kinda apologizes to MK for thinking he stole them from her.

maybe. not sure how well the idea works.

[Yuebei doesn't like Macaque, but she doesn't completely abhor the idea of him and her baba becoming close again. She just doesn't want either of them to get hurt again.]

she doesn't protest her presence much, as her baba seems... hopeful (though still a little sad sometimes) when he's around, and she also doesn't hate the idea of having her second baba around. but she also doesn't let him off scott free, glaring over Wukong's shoulder at him when macaque gets to close to soon, clinging to Wukong when he tries to talk to her, not talking much around him even if he addresses her directly, and generally not being very receptive. she probably at some point goes through a "rebelious phase" where she does things to test if he'll "really stick around even if she's troublesome". as far as she knows, he didn't even want her in the first place, or at least didn't care that Wukong was having her, so to her it seems like a reasonable thing to question.

[Azure Lion about to get decked in the face the second he comes around. When did the monkeys multiply? Why is he on fire?]

what can Yuebei say? she's fiercely protective and not happy about someone trying to take away her baba again.

[Wukong is just watching Yuebei tear into their enemies like; "I love my strong little girl." <3]

probably been said before, but no matter the universe; Wukong is a proud dad to all his kids at all times

Prev.

[Macaque comes back to life and assumed the scarf, which was a gift from Wukong in the first place, had been rescinded as a show of them no longer being together. that is, until he recognizes the fabric hanging from the shoulders of a familiar black-furred child that just broke his nose mid shadow play.]

I'm sorry but that is the cutest/saddest gotdamn thing ever. Wukong was so distraught at losing Macaque that he couldn't bare to leave behind his most cherished possession. So he took the scarf. Wrapped it around himself when he felt cold. Maybe even used it to swaddle his new baby girl. Yuebei dragging it around the cave as her security blanket. It being carefully washed and repaired so many times that it's barely red any more.

In the end, Wukong wanted Macaque to be there with him through all of This.

And once the reality sets in, Macaque is sobbing at the sight of Yuebei wearing her beloved scarf as he once did.

And I just love that my reoccurring theme with Macaque in the Egg aus is;

[aaanndd then the moment Wukong is ok again after Yuebei is confirmed ok she's turning into the most foul-mouthed, harshest, rage filled person in the room.]

PIF is terrifying when she's genuinely angry/worried - and once Wukong and Yuebei are safe/healthy post-natal, she starts yelling.

Wukong now finally understands what Macaque meant when he said his "ears are burning". Once the woman calms down, she wraps Wukong into a near-crushing hug, thanking and begging him to never ever do something so stupid again. Even if it saved her baby, Wukong nearly lost his. And PIF would never forgive herself if little Yuebei had been lost to the fire.

Yuebei gets a tearful kiss on the forehead from her auntie before PIF leaves the room, content with the words spoken.

Wukong makes sure to hug DBK when he sees him next, knowing that the Bull feels the same as his wife over the matter.

[the others have a similar joyous reaction, except for Bajie, who is very wounded by the thought of being ugly enough to make a baby cry.]

HAHA! XD Bajie would take it as an insult - but at least his little bro is happy to hear the baby make noise. A loud piglet is a healthy piglet. And little Yuebei was a real quiet piglet for a long time... at least she stops being afraid of ol' Uncle Bajie when she gets a little bigger.

I immediately thought of a scene from Hero is Back where Bajie is trying to calm down the baby Silly Girl by pulling a face, only for the baby to start screaming at him.

[maybe another lasting affect of her brief encounter with the fire is sever asthma. not great for a premature newborn.] + [heaven forbid is she also has any seasonal allergies. not to say Wukong was a total helicopter parent, but he definitely worried.] + [and yeah. between not being allowed to go out to new places much due to being a sickly child, and Wukong's reputation and not having anyone to connect with other then busy celestials, there's not much chance to go exploring.]

Oof. This hit me as an asthmatic preemie myself. Cus so much of my health was compromised as a little kid, I wasn't very active or adventurous - something thats easy to regret as an adult.

Wukong is so scared of how fragile his cub is. He's immortal, he's indestructable - but that means nothing to him if he can't protect his baby. He knows that mint and licorice, and anti-muscosal formulas help people with poor lungs, but the science back then wasn't 100% sure, and he sure as Diyu wasn't letting his daughter smoke datura cigarettes like the western doctors reccomended! At least the Eqyptians had Kyphi - an incense mixture (multiple formulas) that was frequently repurposed into asthma treatments.

All he can really do is to have a fully-stocked pharmacy inside Water-Curtain Cave, and make sure Yuebei stays away from pollen-rich flowers.

Wukong cries with relief in the early 20th century when Ventolin, Antihistamines, and Epinephrine become common knowledge.

Bonus: Interesting article I found on asthma treatment in Traditional Chinese medicine.

[as mentioned above, with her having been so sick she def would have spent a lot of time at Guanyin's. she's a renowned healer, and Guanyin is someone he trusts dearly to boot, so going to the goddess is a win-win in his eyes.]

Yuebei probably sees Guanyin as an aunt/grandparent figure. Hard not to when the bodhisattva is so doting over the tiny girl. Yuebei finds a lot of her lessons and treatments boring, but at least for a long time she had Red to hang out with.

Guanyin knows Wukong wouldn't trust Yuebei's care with them lightly. Even if Guanyin was present to bless Yuebei's arrival, the Monkey King is hesistant to let anyone tend to his little girl for a long time. The goddess is honoured to be so trusted.

[she jumps at MK's offer to take her off island and into the city without her baba sometimes.]

It's the thing that allows her to open up to MK a little more, even with her burning jealousy of how he's spending so much time with her baba + the Noodle Gang family + him getting to have a "normal" life pretending to be a healthy human cub.

She likes arcades but they get very loud for her at times. MK is quick to notice when the "Monkey Princess" (as he calls her) gets overstimulated, and suggests that they check out a quieter activity.

Like a play.

[I feel like she'd make fast friends with Bai He once the LBD fiasco is over.]

Little girl gang! And if Bai He is a foster kid/orphan like I hc, then Yuebei has zero issue letting another sickly little girl into her family. She's very sympathetic and understanding of Bai He's physical limits ever since she hosted LBD - the human girl now aching constantly from her body being forced to move like a puppet. The two jokingly compare how one briefly hosted Fire while the other Ice. Bai He could be considered the more feminine of the two, but they both bond over shared interest in animal science - Yuebei still loves her dinosaurs while Bai He is still a die-hard cat fan. And ofc the inherent chaos that two fearless little girls can get up to when they wander off from their babas' watchful gaze.

[the others hear of her feeling about "them forgtting her" for the first time during this, and can't help but feel bad and try and help Wukong explain. she probably clings to her baba for a long time after, and stops being as cld to the others. maybe even kinda apologizes to MK for thinking he stole them from her. maybe. not sure how well the idea works.]

Ultimately, even if Yuebei understood how death/reincarnation worked, she would still feel "forgotten" as (nearly) every soul that passes through Diyu is made to drink Meng Po's broth and forget their past lives. The little girl still feels abandoned in some way by her Pilgrim uncles "leaving" her and her baba. It's bad enough that Uncle Bull had to go away for a long time, but to lose her uncles, only to see them again in new forms that don't recognize her, devastates Yuebei in a way thats hard for her to articulate.

And for her own parent to be afflicted in a way that makes him unable to remember her? Oh you better believe Yuebei is a complete mess.

When Wukong briefly loses his memory in "Amnesia Rules"; he initially panics, wondering why he can't "feel the Egg" any more - only to look over at Yuebei and have a moment of fractured memory thinking that she must be a projection from the future, or an Egg Macaque made on his own without him.

This assumption continues unaddressed until the gang manages to get Tang back, and befriend Scorpion Queen. As they're about to get Wukong to go back into astral meditation to "reboot" himself, the ginger monkey turns to ask Yuebei something thats been plaguing him all day.

Amnesiac!Wukong: "Are you my Egg?" Yuebei, sadly: "I was..." Amnesiac!Wukong: "Aww. Come here, cub." (*Wukong pulls Yuebei in for a hug*) Amnesiac!Wukong: "If you really are my little Egg many years from now, I'm happy that she grows into a strong, fearless little lady. I'm proud to be your Baba." Yuebei: (*cries into Wukong's shoulder*) "I love you baba..." Amnesiac!Wukong, crying too: "I'm so happy to be able to hear that. I was so scared when you tried absorbing the Samadhi Fire... I thought I lost you. But you're a tough little girl aren't you? You spat that fire right out like it was sour!" Yuebei, aware of her birth circumstances: "Yeah. You tell me that story all the time." Pigsy and Tang, not aware: "What?"

Pigsy and Tang are so emotional over the amnesiac!father-daughter bonding, that they are completely off-guard when the older monkey rattles off some details about the Samadhi Fire that he neglected to let the others in on.

[she probably at some point goes through a "rebelious phase" where she does things to test if he'll "really stick around even if she's troublesome". as far as she knows, he didn't even want her in the first place, or at least didn't care that Wukong was having her, so to her it seems like a reasonable thing to question.]

Ooof!! I love the idea of Yuebei antagonising Macaque "just to be sure" that he's serious about staying around. Macaque honestly tries his best to be patient, but after a while he starts to get super annoyed with the girl's attitude.

Then one stray prank or comment rolls into a genuine verbal confrontation.

Macaque: "What is it about me that offends you so much!? I get it - my and your dad had a few fights and I sorta almost destroyed the world trying to escape the Bone Demon - but I'm trying my best here! I wouldn't have broken your dad out of his possession if I didn't think he was worth sticking around for!" Yuebei, emotional: "How am I supposed to believe that when you left us twice!?" Macaque, realizing: "Twice? What do you mean by- OH." Yuebei: (*trying not to cry*) Macaque: "You... you thought I knew? Kid, I only learned you even existed as a concept when Jin and Yin busted my lip open first thing after New Years." Yuebei: "You have your special ears! You should have known I was there when you-" (*stops talking, buries head into knees*) Macaque, extremely guilty: "I should have. I really should have. But I chose not to listen. I was just so... angry at that monk, at the circlet, even at your baba, I..." *sighs* "Maybe if I had stopped to listen, I would have known you were there. That Wukong had someone he would kill me for. I don't blame him for that." Yuebei, lifts head from knees: "You don't?" Macaque: "Nah. You're a lot cooler than I am. You took the Samadhi Fire head in before you were even born. And when you saw the Bone Demon, you didn't run and hide like I did - you and MK took that witch out. And did I see a certain little warrior take her first war trophy before we left?" Yuebei, avoiding eye contact: "She isn't using it..." Macaque: "To be fair it wasn't getting much use with her anyway. If she had a brain in that skull, she'd know Wukong picks a good troop. I just wished I had known that a few centuries ago..." Yuebei & Macaque share an awkward silence Macaque: "I wanna stick around kiddo. I missed out on a lot when I left. Both times really... But I want to stay. Flower Fruit Mountain is my home too, and I hope someday it could be a home me and your baba can share together again. Even if you don't believe me." Yuebei: (*affectionate elbow jab into Mac's rib*) Macaque, chuckling: "Well, that's progress from the nose busting." Yuebei: (*trying not to laugh*)

Bonus: Wukong hears some of this convo, or it's parroted to him by one of the (sneaked-out of Diyu with Mac) Eclipse twins. You know this monkey crying over his former mate and his baby girl finally starting to get along!

[what can Yuebei say? she's fiercely protective and not happy about someone trying to take away her baba again.]

The only reason Azure gets as far as he does with the Memory Scroll is that Yuebei is either A: Not on FFM at the time, or B: Got Memory Scroll'd in the confusion.

Otherwise, she starts kicking and punching Azure the second she clocks who he is. MK and Mei are gonna have to drag her off of him.

The Jade Emperor and Xiwangmu see this tiny monkey, burning with rightous anger and protectiveness, and just know who's cub she is. The Emperor does however, look over to his wife very briefly to ask if the little girl dragging Azure Lion by the scruff of the neck to Diyu is a lost grandchild of theirs.

[probably been said before, but no matter the universe; Wukong is a proud dad to all his kids at all times]

Wukong loves his kids so gotdang much. Canon or au - him a proud dad.

This got a little away from me - I hope you liked my reply!

[h-didanart]

Did someone ask for content about that weird Murder Mystery AU Crossover I thought of yesterday? No? WELL TOO BAD

Tw- mention of death and descriptions of such, but not to an extremely gruesome extent, these guys are brainstorming execution ideas is all, so no one really dies

The Ruin hummed idly as it finished writing.

It was planning day today in the server and they all had taken to planning their executions, better to be prepared for whatever ended up happening in the game after all!

For its part it had written a rather brilliant sequence, resembling a play in both physical execution and written format. The themes and allegories to its own past clear as the bottom of a translucent river, there if looked for but not the center piece. Oh no, that was reserved for the main attraction, the Ruin and its death. A tragedy played to an audience of booing creatures, none of its efforts to please the audience working until the very end when a stage light falls on its head.

It was a marvelous piece of writing dare it confess.

They nodded to themselves, wonderful indeed.

…

The Ruin looked up at their table mates, catching sight of the bullet list and doodle page both of its friends had been working on.

It cleared its throat, waiting until both bots were looking at it before speaking, “May I ask what you two’s executions look like?”

Solar and Nexus exchanged glances, a silent conversation in expressions and postures before the latter brightened up and turned to it.

“Why the most horrifying thing ever of course!” Nexus lifted up their paper, the crude doodles visible to both of the other bots.

“I’ll be dragged off to a lab where my task will be to make inventions that appear on a giant screen, starting off as easy then getting harder and harder, and all the while the room will start to fill with Negative Star Power— or poison, but it doesn’t sound as cool— until I’m but a coughing mess and mess up an invention which will then cause the creatures getting the inventions to get madder and madder until they get mad enough to throw me out and proceed to use my inventions to bludgeon me to death!”

They smiled, looking expectantly at the Ruin and the solar bot.

The Ruin simply blinked at the explanation, unsure of what to say. Solar hummed, “that is actually horrifying, wow”

Nexus giggled, placing their paper down, “thank you”

“It suits you well,” Ruin ended up saying, lunar bot glancing at it and bowing their head in thanks.

“How about you Sol? I bet’cha got something good cooking,” the taller bot turned to the addressee, arms crossed and supporting them on the table.

Solar mumbled in hesitance, glancing back at his paper before crossing his arms.

“I’m working front desk at the Theatre and restocking the shelves, but it gets incredibly busy so I lose some customers between tending to the supplies and the crowd, and after a certain amount of customers leave, a contraption opens under me sending me to the trash compactor where I’m crushed to death and my scraps are used to make a Security Bot”

The Ruin couldn’t help the small ‘oh’ that left their voice box as Solar finished the explanation. Nexus whistled, seemingly taken aback by the grueling scene as well.

Solar scratched at one of his rays, “I just went with whatever idea I got first”

“And that was a damn good idea,” Nexus responded. Solar huffed in what was probably amusement at their friend’s reply.

The Ruin stared back at its own paper as they idly listened to its friends converse.

It looked up again after a while, trying to spot the other groups nearby.

A similar trio to them sat the closest, a Sun, a Moon, and an Eclipse, all with rather different clothes than what it would consider the standard to be. The Eclipse and Moon were seemingly arguing, the Moon debating the logistics of animatronics dying by strangulation and how it wouldn’t make sense, all the while the Eclipse wasn’t countering with the same topic but rather questioning the Moon’s apparent choice of being pelted to death. The Sun stayed silent through it all. If it remembered correctly that must be the group of the “swap” dimension, ergo the Eclipse must’ve been in a Lunar role with the Sun and Moon switching as well.

The Ruin looked the other way spotting the second group closest to them. Lucero, KC, and Dusk sat together alongside a different Eclipse. It seemed like Dusk was giving everyone pointers on what to do for their executions, understandable taking his eerie knowledge of their dimension in mind. Lucero had came up with something relating to the stars and space, a black hole apparently? KC had gone the virus route, being forced back to her old ways but managing to stop himself in death. The Eclipse said something relating to sacrifices, it hadn’t really paid much attention to that.

Looking to the next table over, the one with Lord Loser, a Miku-fied Moon, and a Lunar, the Ruin tried to pick up on their conversation as well. Death by dragon, and cheated at a game was all it heard.

The last table they could not hear at all, it contained the two Bloodmoons and the Jack. One of the Bloodmoons was seemingly talking, moving a hand around as they did, it could barely make out an explosion like gesture. Both of the others in that table were listening intently though the Ruin did not see what more transpired there, the other Bloodmoon had glared at it from their spot, something that one usually did whenever it looked over.

The Ruin turned its gaze back to its paper, slowly looking up at their friends again.

“I am getting the impression that a great majority of us might be channeling our inner conflicts onto our made up deaths”

Solar and Nexus turned to face it, silently staring as they processed its words.

“That can’t be healthy,” Solar muttered a while later.

The Ruin tapped their claws on the table, frowning at their carefully put together work.

Nexus made a prolongated ‘eh’ sound, ending in a shrug.

“It’s a good source of inspiration”

Solar and the Ruin nodded. That could not be argued against.

[yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy]

Love is an open wound

Zevlor x Rolan, past Zevlor x Kanon.

Inspired by this post, which I misread. 🤦‍♀️

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, spoilers, mild canon divergence for Act 1, panic attack, nightmares, horror, body horror, semi-graphic depictions of violence, PTSD symptoms, nonconsensual enthrallment, nonconsensual use of the Calm Emotions spell (consent is given after), survivors guilt, (minor) character deaths, canon character deaths (more like Kanon character death).

______________________________________________________________

The Absolute had been defeated and peace, or as much peace that a city such as Baldur's Gate could hope to have, had been restored. Ravenguard had managed to purge the worst of the corruption which had infested the highest reaches of government, and the city had been rebuilt.

The tiefling refugees were thriving in the port-city. Alfira had almost a dozen music students. Dammon's forge had months worth of commissions lined up, with more coming in everyday. Rolan had become the Master of Ramazith's Tower and business was booming at Sorcerers Sundries. He had also recently opened a free public library that anyone was welcome to use— so long as they treated the books and scrolls with due care. Bex and Danis had recently adopted a cat. Zevlor had refound his faith and was a paladin once more.

Zevlor was also in a committed relationship with Rolan. To say he was shocked when the mage had approached him after the elder brain had been defeated and asked him on a date would be an understatement. Zevlor was dubious anent the younger man's desires; why would a powerful, young, handsome man like Rolan want an old, washed up, soldier such as him? But Rolan was nothing if not determined, and after much reassurance Zevlor allowed himself to give into his "selfish" desires, and now (just over a year and a half later) they were living together in Ramazith's Tower.

Zevlor had fretted about how Rolan's protective siblings would react to their brother dating an older man, but Cal and Lia welcomed him with open arms (after giving him a shovel talk). "He's had a crush on you since he hit puberty." Lia had told the old Hellrider, much to Rolan's chagrin.

Zevlor was elated to find that he got on well with the mage's siblings. Cal was delighted to have another level-headed person to diffuse Lia and Rolan's constant bickering. While Lia was eager to train with the old Hellrider. She had even privately thanked Zevlor for being a calming influence on her bristly brother.

"Rolan isn't as pissy now that the stick that was shoved up his ass has been replaced with your great sword."

(Zevlor couldn't look her in the eyes for 2 tendays.)

The commander had also befriended the local population of stray cats. Zevlor was fairly certain that most of them only saw him as a meal ticket, but there were a few who seemed to genuinely enjoy his company.

Life was good and Zevlor was content, most of the time. But sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of Rolan out of the corner of his eye, or he'd see the younger tiefling approaching with the evening sun brightly blazing behind him, and for a split second he'd swear that he'd seen Kanon.

The two young men were very different people, in both their looks and their personalities— but both of them sported shoulder length hair, and their horn structures were almost identical; making them look just similar enough that, in the right light, Zevlor would see brief glimpses of Kanon when he looked at Rolan.

These bittersweet moments made Zevlor's heart ache. Guilt and anxiety made his stomach churn. Zevlor was worried that he was somehow cheating on Rolan in his wistful reminiscing on his prior swain. He worried that he was trying to replace Kanon with Rolan. He worried that his previous feelings for Kanon were preventing him from fully loving Rolan in the way that the man deserved to be loved— wholly and without question.

Compounding his guilt, Zevlor hadn't told Rolan about Kanon— but there wasn't really anything to tell. He hadn't been in a romantic relationship Kanon. In truth they were nothing more than friendly acquaintances... But there was an undeniable mutual attraction between them, and they'd been getting closer. Their relationship had just begun to blossom into something more when Kanon was killed.

Unfathomable remorse filled the old Hellrider. Kanon should have never been on the ramparts with him, but he was because he and Zevlor were flirting. Gods damn it, the man didn't even have any armor on! How could Zevlor have allowed himself to be so negligent in his duties!? If Zevlor was even half the paladin that he thought he was in Elturel, then Kanon wouldn't have died on that wall.

Despite his best efforts, Zevlor often found himself ruminating over his actions on that fateful day.

As soon as Zevlor had spotted the goblins nearing the Grove he yelled out an order to open the gate— he had directed the order to Akra, who had armor on, but Kanon was closer to the windlass— and so he took it upon himself to try to save Aradin's sorry backside from certain demise.

Zevlor saw the goblins nocking their arrows, he should've realized that a man who was a tailor by trade wouldn't have the reaction time of a trained soldier. But instead of diving on top of Kanon to shield him from the incoming volley of arrows, Zevlor had crouched down and covered his own hide because he (incorrectly) assumed that Kanon would also duck for cover.

Helm's unsleeping eyes, he remembered Kanon's death in perfect, agonizing, detail. The horrid sound the young man had made when the first arrow struck him. The sickening squelch as it effortlessly pierced his unarmored flesh.

Kanon may have been able to survive the initial arrow, had the second arrow not struck true by slotting between his ribs and piercing his heart.

The anguished wail that Kanon's sister, Akra, emitted upon seeing her brother's demise haunted Zevlor in his dreams.

Zevlor's night terrors had been intensifying as of late. His nightmares had started to combine the horrors he experienced in Avernus with how he had failed his kinsfolk in the Shadowlands.

In his dreams the refugee tieflings were being slaughtered by demons while he dispassionately stood by, watching as their souls were dammed to perdition in the hells.

The felled tieflings surrounded him, and the only thing louder than their wails of pain and terror were their loathsome screeches of blame and anger. They demanded to know why he had let them die when he had promised to protect them. They castigated him for his cowardice. They lambasted him for his audacity in thinking that he deserved happiness. He didn't.

Other nightmares solely featured Kanon. His bloated and decaying corpse loomed over Zevlor as blood poured from his mouth while he stared accusingly at him with his dead, hate filled eyes. Kanon didn't need to say anything for Zevlor to know that he was angry with him for idlily standing by as his sister was murdered, to know that the young man (correctly) blamed him for their deaths.

And then a familiar sneer would twist Kanon's reddening face until it morphed into Rolan's unmarred visage.

"How long until you cause my death?" Rolan pointedly asked Zevlor as his face began to decay, sloughing off in grotesque chunks as 10,000 tormented voices emanated all at once from Rolan's rotting mouth when he accusingly screamed at Zevlor. "ł'₥ ₲Øł₦₲ ₮Ø ĐłɆ ฿Ɇ₵₳Ʉ₴Ɇ Ø₣ ɎØɄ!"

"NO!" Zevlor yelled as he shot up from bed. He couldn't breath, he couldn't seen anything other than the static that filled his vision. His ears were ringing so loudly that he couldn't hear anything else.

He was dead. He was dead and he was dammed to relive his failures over and over again for the rest of eternity. He had never actually escaped the hells. Tav hadn't rescued him from the mind flayer pod at Moonrise Towers. He was dead. He was-

A gentle wave of calm washed over the old Hellrider. He could suddenly breath again as the ringing in his ears quieted and the world around him came into focus. Rolan was in front of him, saying soothing words to him.

"He looks worried." Zevlor distantly thought.

"Just focus on my voice Zevlor. Good. We're going to breath together now, follow my lead." Rolan instructed him.

"Breath in." Rolan inhaled as Zevlor copied him. "And breath out."

They repeated the breathing exercise several times until Zevlor had fully returned to his body.

The former commander was drenched in sweat, his skin was clammy and cold. Zevlor's whole body was shaking from the aftershocks of his night terror.

It wasn't until Rolan carefully wiped the tears from his face that Zevlor realized he was silently crying.

A sudden, wretched sob erupted from the very depths of Zevlor's soul. Years of repressed emotions spilled forth from, unfettered by shame or pride.

Rolan held him tight. It felt as though his love was the only thing holding Zevlor together as he was soothingly rocked in the mages arms.

Zevlor must have fallen asleep— as an indeterminate amount of time later he was gently roused from his slumber by Rolan, who handed him some water and softly ordered the old soldier "Drink."

Zevlor nodded in both acquiescence and a gesture of gratitude as he silently accepted the cool glass of water from the other man. He hadn't realized how parched he was until he started drinking. It took more restraint than he'd like to admit to swallow the refreshing liquid at a moderate pace instead of desperately chugging it.

When Zevlor was done drinking he handed the glass back to Rolan, who put it on the nightstand.

"You didn't put a coaster under it." He told Rolan.

"What?" Rolan asked.

"The glass," Zevlor said as he pointed to the offending object "you didn't put it on a coaster, it'll leave a mark if you leave it like that."

Rolan's face skewed in... confusion? Incredulity? Bewilderment?

"I know that you don't like water rings on the furniture, that's why I pointed it out." Zevlor lamely added, fearing he had offended his romantic partner.

"Zevlor, dear," Rolan said slowly, as though he was speaking to Minsc someone whose mental faculties were chronically understaffed. "I don't give a cranium rat's ass about potential condensation rings right now, I am worried about you." Rolan replied in baffled, albeit fond, exasperation.

"You are?" Zevlor asked.

"Yes." Rolan answered while looking at Zevlor as though he'd grown another horn. "I woke to you thrashing around in your sleep from terrible night terrors, I tried to wake you but I was unable rouse you. Then you suddenly bolted upright while screaming in a terror-stricken, anguished voice."

Rolan took a deep, steadying breath before he continued.

"You were nonsensical, saying that you were dead and being tormented in the hells or that you were still trapped in a mind flayer pod. Your eyes were open but they weren't seeing." Rolan shakily told him.

"Oh." Was all Zevlor could think to respond.

"I couldn't get though to you, so I used Calm Emotions on you in the hopes that it would free you from wherever your mind had you trapped. I'm sorry I used my magic to to control your emotions, but I didn't know how else to help you." Rolan said.

It was Zevlor's turn to look at Rolan as though he had grown another horn.

"Why are you apologizing?" Zevlor asked, but continued to talk before Rolan could reply.

"You pulled me out of a very unpleasant place. You shouldn't be apologizing, I should be thanking you." He said as he gently thumbed Rolan's bottom lip, stopping him from worrying it between his teeth.

"I..." Rolan started, uncharacteristically hesitant. "I used a spell to control you, to control your emotions, without your consent." He said.

"I was hardly in a place where I could consent Rolan." Zevlor dismissively replied, then, upon seeing guilt fill Rolan's eyes, quickly added "But I am glad that you did! Your spell helped me immensely!"

When Rolan responded it was with carefully chosen words, though whether they were purely for Zevlor's benefit, or if they were a byproduct of Rolan working though his own emotions, was hard to say.

"You've told me some of what happened in the Shadowlands. I was... concerned that my actions may have been similar to, or reminded you of... the time when you were nonconsensually controlled by the elder brain."

Zevlor blinked in surprise, and even as the familiar feelings of guilt and remorse bubbled up from the pit of his stomach, the warmth that filled him from the younger man's tender concern caused Zevlor to softly smile.

"I promise you, the circumstances here are very different from... that instance." Zevlor said, causing a small grimace to flash across both of their faces.

"I don't feel as though you violated my autonomy." Zevlor resolutely told Rolan, as he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss between his pinched brows.

Rolan sighed with palpable relief, his face smoothing.

"Do you want to talk about your night terrors?" Rolan asked.

Zevlor sighed as he responded, "Not particularly, but I probably should."

Rolan kissed the old Hellrider's forehead and then told him "Take all the time you need love." as he intertwined his and Zevlor's tails together.

After a few minutes of gathering his thoughts, and his courage, Zevlor began to tell Rolan about his nightmares. The younger man listened attentively, holding Zevlor's hand all the while.

"Before I continue relaying the contents of my nightmare, there is something you should know. Someone that I haven't told you about yet." Zevlor cautiously said.

After Rolan nodded in acknowledgment, Zevlor began to tell him of his and Kanon's not-quite-relationship.

"You remember Kanon, yes?" Zevlor asked, continuing after Rolan nodded, "Well he and I... We... We weren't together, but..."

Zevlor trailed off, his courage leaving him as his self doubt began to overwhelm him.

"Zevlor, are you trying to tell me about how you and Kanon danced around each other as you both obliviously, and obviously, pined for one another?" Rolan asked with a bit of amusement slipping into his voice despite his efforts to rein it in.

Zevlor's eyes were as wide saucers when he asked "You already knew!?"

Rolan let his smile slip as he answered "Zevlor, everyone knew. It was painfully obvious that you two had alchemy with each other. I'm fairly certain that Mol's gang were running a betting ring on when you two would finally start dating."

Embarrassed, Zevlor indignantly asked "And no one said anything!?"

"No." Rolan shrugged. "There wasn't much entertainment to be had on the road. Of course I didn't partake in such jejune activities. But I knew of your feelings for him, and his for you. I think everyone except you two knew."

Zevlor stared at Rolan as though he had just told him that the sky was lime green.

"You knew that I had romantic feelings for Kanon?" He asked, needing to clarify what he had just heard.

Rolan looked at Zevlor with a mixture of sympathy and tenderness. "Yes Zevlor, I knew."

"It... it doesn't bother you?" Zevlor hesitantly asked.

"No, Zevlor. It doesn't bother me." Rolan reassured him.

The floodgates opened once more as Zevlor began sobbing.

He told Rolan of what had happened that day. How he blamed himself for Kanon's death. How he was worried that he was using Rolan as a replacement. How he sometimes saw Kanon when he looked at Rolan.

Zevlor came clean about everything. His fears, his doubts, his regrets. How he didn't think he deserved to be happy when he was the reason so many had died.

And Rolan listened without judgement. At times he looked shocked, or angry at the circumstances life had put Zevlor in, or sadness for what he had lost— but he was never resentful.

Eventually Zevlor had confessed everything he'd been hiding from Rolan to him. Despite feeling exhausted Zevlor felt lighter than he had in a very long time.

But of course the reprieve from his self-flagellation only lasted for a few moments.

As Zevlor's senses returned to him so too did his shame. He was a commander of the Hellriders, damnit. How could he be so weak?

HIs self-loathing was unceremoniously interrupted when Rolan none-too-gently flicked his forehead.

"Stop that." Rolan firmly told him.

Zevlor did not pout as he snuggled closer, embarrassed at having been called out for his self-denigration— causing the mage to quietly chuckle and kiss Zevlor's forehead in apology.

"I've covered you with my snot and tears." Zevlor pointed out.

Rolan's voice betrayed his disgust, "I am aware."

Zevlor snickered at Rolan's disgruntled tone.

And by the next morning all traces of Zevlor's bodily secretions had been magicked away.

Zevlor woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

"About time you've woken up, you slugabed." Rolan lovingly teased.

Zevlor hid his smile underneath the blanket as he replied "You young people these days, so disrespectful to your elders."

Rolan made a noncommittal noise as he drank his coffee.

"Mmm, I am very disrespectful— so disrespectful that I graciously brought you a fresh cup of coffee to lazily enjoy in bed." he said good naturedly.

The promise of caffeine inspired Zevlor to fully wake up.

Rolan tittered as he handed the now awake Hellrider his coffee.

Their eyes locked as Zevlor accepted the warm cup from him. The adoring look Rolan gave him soothed his soul in a way that words could not.

He knew that they were okay. They'd probably discuss what he'd revealed the night before, but they would be okay.

They were more than okay. They were good.

Life was good, and it was going to get even better.

[milkfroggo]

(late) day 27 of OC-tober: fears

Mako has pyrophobia! Lore explanation and breakdown of the art under cut :]

Tw: burning, mentions of gore, jail, and fire (sorry if I missed anything)

Mako is by far the most traumatized of my OCs. When they we're about to graduate their magic school their best friend beforehand manipulated Mako's magic to benefit themselves.

Due to the dislike of (blood) magic Mako was falsely imprisoned for harming others. They had a lengthy stay ahead of themselves but, via an attack from an village near the prison it was set on fire. This is both the reason they escaped and are afraid of fire.

Mako overall wasn't severely injured but, the metal muzzle (they have sharp shark teeth) and handcuffs burned into their skin leaving both trauma and scars (this is the cause of the scars around Mako's mouth, alot the parts holding the mask on are a strong leather). Alot of the fear of seeing others flee and get scorched just by grasping at burning hot iron cages stays with Mako because, while they got away fairly easy they still had to watch knowing that most would not escape, and if they tried to help they would meet a far worse fate then if they didn't.

ANYWAYS ART BREAKDOWN

What's what

The parts where the fire is in front of Mako show their past self in a brownish prison uniform with a iron mask and handcuffs that have chains melting off of the handcuffs.

The non fire covered parts show present day mako in a black button up under a red vest and cummerbund (?) with burgundy pants.

Design choices

The muzzle/ mask is due to Mako's sharp teeth and is ment to resemble one of those caged oven things (think what gigantamax coalossal from Pokemon has on its belly).

The prison uniform is pretty simple, a brown cheap cloth sewn into shorts and a button up shirt.

Those big cuffs have the chain melting off showing how Mako got free and the intensity of the moment.

[mywingsareonwheels]

1974.

Morse is interviewing witnesses to a murder at one of the colleges, and one of them is strikingly familiar. He's a man in his early twenties, a recent medical graduate back visiting friends before heading off to move into a totally different career. He has a posh accent, a friendly smile, warm brown eyes.

Oh he's truly, desperately familiar, and Morse isn't looking too hard into his own motives when he lets the younger man talk him into a drink out, and then a one-night stand, and then something rather more like a friendship played out over Scotch and crosswords and literary quotations.

[More behind the cut....]

He does mention, briefly, that his new friend reminded him of someone else on first meeting. And somehow that turns into a discussion of ancestry, and the young man discusses with some glee the skeleton in his family cupboard: the fact that his paternal grandmother when barely eighteen had a dalliance with a working-class ruffian of the same age from Mile End, of all places. That she'd got pregnant, but her parents wouldn't let her tell the lad, but instead got her engaged to a somewhat stuffy friend of theirs called Richardson.

"Dad hates to talk about it," says Morse's friend, "he's rather a stuffed shirt, especially for a surgeon. But Granny used to love telling me stories. She did come to love my Granddad, I think, but she missed that boy from Mile End all her life." He chuckles, but a little shakily, because he has yet to learn the effortless-seeming confidence he'll spread before him one day. "I'd give anything to meet him."

Morse swallows, heart suddenly in his mouth. And something in his face makes the young man carry on, more intensely.

"Granny told me that she named Dad after him, though he doesn't know. So that's what I have: Frederick, from Mile End. Fathered a child around 1930 when he was just a lad and doesn't even know he did." He laughs, wryly. "Not much to go on, is it."

"Douglas," says Morse, and his voice is shaking but there's a smile in his eyes. "I... I'll need to look into this, but I think. I mean. I think I can help."

The postcard is of York Minster, which is only a half hour drive from where three exiles from Oxford have settled. On the back it reads just:

"Sir,

Un bel di, please could we talk? There's someone I think you should meet. Bring 2 rounds ham and tomato sandwiches. --"

At the day and time thus ordered, Fred Thursday finds Morse standing admiring the rose window, and follows him out to a bench in the Minster gardens. He's torn between confusion and shame, though above all trying to hide how overjoyed he is to see the rusty curls and those haughty, sea-green eyes again. When Morse explains, and introduces the young trainee pilot with a face Fred remembers from his mirror as a long-lost grandson... well, it's good he's already sitting down, is all.

The years past, and they are gentler than they might have been.

Fred lives to see his grandson a captain, to meet his great-granddaughter. To introduce his grandson to his uncle and step-grandmother and eventually even his aunt. To become friends with Morse again, even if quietly, and for the most part only by letter. To relish that Douglas and Morse, despite occasionally enraging each other beyond reason, seem to be friends for life. (He suspects that they might once have been more than that; if they aren't going to tell him though, he's not going to point it out.) Something healed in him that day in York, and it never breaks again.

When Captain Douglas Richardson puts down the bottle, in an attempt to salvage something of his career and his relationship with his daughter, perhaps it's partly because he's still grieving for his grandfather, dead some ten years now, but most of all because he's still grieving for his friend and one-time lover, and doesn't want to die so young himself.

When First Officer Douglas Richardson meets his new captain at MJN's portacabin in Fitton, he's a little strikingly familiar too. He's shorter, and more pompous, and vastly less good at word games, but there are rusty curls and haughty sea-green eyes.

He's no relation of Morse's at all though, it turns out. This is, eventually, rather a relief.

[victorckk]

Don’t have any new art of Blythe, but these doodles are from a few weeks ago

Haven’t been focused on TOH as much as I used to be, so that’s why I haven’t really been posting or doodling him much recently

He’s the only OC I really have that’s a father figure / an actual father so I figured,, why not make a Father’s Day post of him and just talk about him in general?

Sure, he may be as horrible and awful as Philip. He may have brought an end to his own father. And he may have agreed to the Day of Unity and didn’t give a damn about his home realm being wiped out due to being blinded by the Emperor’s affection.

But he always wanted the best for Hunter, even if he knew that it was practically impossible after watching countless Golden Guards succumb to the Emperor’s wrath. Hunter was different, though. After retiring as a scout, Blythe was given the responsibility of raising him.

He would usually get into arguments and fights with Belos about Hunter’s wellbeing, even going so far as to decking the Emperor in the jaw while trying to protect Hunter (but we don’t speak about that incident).

Hunter accidentally stabbed Blythe through the heart during the final battle, resulting in Hunter wanting to destroy Belos even more.

In Hunter’s eyes, it was Belos’ fault that Blythe was the way he was, and Blythe would’ve been a much better person if Belos wasn’t in the picture.

[dcrlingmuses]

I think about the ending scene from the Motto (Season 3's) movie ALOT.

Aiko finally overcame her trauma involving a grandparent (her mom's dad) only now being able to sit in Doremi's grandpa's lap when all the other girls did it so easily the day before. She finally musters the courage to talk to him after running away from him in tears the morning before in the tomato garden due to seeing her own grandfather's anger filed face. (I might make another post about that scene at a later date because there's alot to explain and that makes this scene so much sadder)

But I digress,

She's finally finding solace in Grandpa Harukaze…only to find out he's dying.

Listen to her: She’s absolutely DEVASTATED.

It’s the fact that out of all the girls, Aiko was crying the loudest. You can hear her the most clearly out of them.

Doremi’s crying too (all the girls are) but I feel as she’s not crying as loudly as Aiko because she’s trying to stay strong for not just her baby sister Pop but for her father (her grandfather’s son) who is sitting right there. She IS the eldest daughter, but the reality of everything sunk in and she is trying her best to keep it together, not just for her dad but for everyone else too.

But Aiko? She’s letting it ALL OUT.

This is also one of the rare times she's crying like this in front of ANYONE. She's cried like this to her parents in s2, but NEVER like this in front of her friends and especially in front of friend's parents or a person she only knew for TWO days.

When I say that this little blue haired spunky girl has trauma, HOO BOY DOES SHE HAVE TRAUMA AND A LOT OF IT TO BOOT.

[cartoonsbyandie]

New contender for worst thing I’ve ever drawn (Source)

[bluestrawberrybunny]

To start this post off: I know this seems like a weird crossover fic; HOWEVER, warning before people begin reading: this fic contains major character death, mentions of su*c*de, SA, s*x and s*x work, murder, blood, abandonment, child neglect, child ab*se, and emotional ab*se. If any of these make you uncomfortable, I would suggest finding another fic to read.

While this crossover seems really weird to some readers at a glance, this is a very serious fic that covers the topics mentioned above.

Ok… I am having some issues with the Apprenticeship AU (specifically dealing with writer’s block), but this is an AU and crossover fic I have not been able to stop thinking about. There are planned to be 15 chapters in total. First chapter is out now. It’s something that I really like, and I can’t wait to work on this story moving forward while I figure out how to tell the story I am wanting to with the SMG4 Apprenticeship AU.

So in the meantime, I’m going to be updating this one a lot more frequently during my recovery time from eye surgery, so… yeah.

No, I have no abandoned the Apprenticeship AU (and I am also planning on posting both fics on AO3 eventually, but I was writing them originally on WattPad so… yeah. Give me time to put those on AO3 for those who don’t have WattPad).

Basic rundown of this Space Pirates AU:

Crossover between SMG4, TMNT 2012, BABQFTIM (only Quest!Cuphead and Quest!Mugman are in this fic tho and no I do not support the original AU’s creator), Cry of Fear, Borderlands, and my OCs in a scenario inspired by the show Firefly.

This takes place during TMNT 2012 Season 4, when the group is in space (duh). This AU deals with very difficult topics, especially when regarding how I feel about a certain character from the 2012 series *cough* April *cough* and how she was handled, especially with her relationship to other characters, especially when one of the characters canonically died on screen from her hand.

Basically, this is a “What-If” scenario with a lot of angst, but also a fun found family story surrounding our lovely pirate crew, as well as a fun twist that is revealed at the end of the first chapter and will be explained more throughout the fic.

Again, I know this seems like it would be a crack fic, but it is taken seriously and I am actually taking this story seriously. To be honest, if this story wasn’t so rooted in the story of TMNT 2012 season 4, I would likely take this and make it its own thing. However, I do hope people do give this fic a shot (unless any of the topics I mentioned at the very top of this post make you uncomfortable, in which case I am perfectly fine with you skipping this one for your own mental health).

So… yeah. This is not a crack fic. It’s just me telling a story with a bunch of different characters from different continuities as if they’re all from the same one.

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

And this is just a bonus one I thought of but Grace and 24 Capitalism 👁️👁️

Story is also posted on ao3!

(tw capitalism, mentions of colonialism, mentions of racism/speciesism, trauma, mentions of cigarettes/alcohol, addiction, grief, past canonical character death, identity issues, implied dehumanization, hallucinations, unreality)

It's not as if they have a problem with expense. Fuck no, of course not. They can find the cash for their fucking war machines, their stupid goddamn spaceships, their love children born on a planet where they'll never be able to breathe the air. The cash for their guns and explosives, for their dozers rolling over the ground, for pressed suits and cheery propaganda vids and everything single one of the politicians in their pockets.

And oh, they've got the money for her as well, Grace knows all about it, a special set of funds to keep their little labcoat safely in line. The killing ground school, the botany book with a Na'vi face on the cover cause it's all just wildlife, doc, remember that, the cigarettes to keep her strung out and numb, the alcohol when that's not enough.

Never enough, not for them, sure as shit not for her. Her hands shake, she's fiddling, muttering, things slipping through her hands. Focus, Augustine, fucking focus. She's only got so many cigarettes, the 3D printers only work so well (as well as they're supposed to, heh). If Max is hiding them again she's going to fucking--

Cash. Right. Money, profit, power. Expense. They'll make a body, grow it in a tank like a promise, but if shit goes down, a bloody murder on a planet she can barely remember, happening six years and a million lightyears and last week ago--well, they can't take the fucking loss, oh no, they're going to stuff in some random jackass marine, pulled off one conveyor belt and shoved onto another.

Like it's that simple. Like it's all just meat, isn't it, they all are, deep blue company logos hanging heavy over her skin, sinking into her bones until she feels it even when she's physically out of the link. Jake Sully shrugging into his brother's skin and grinning at her, Jake Sully with Quaritch's brand stamped onto his soul, Jake fucking Sully coming out of the Soul Drive upload room with jagged, defiant eyes.

There are some things that cannot be bought, Mo'at says, her hand wrapped around Grace's throat. Not enough to choke, not enough to hurt, just enough to make the point, to prove that tonight, Grace was not worth the suffocation. I had thought you learned this, if nothing else.

In a way, the rejection had been a relief. No need to try and twist everything into a knot trying to justify the application into a knot, no excuse to get shot in the head months down the line for trying to grow a rogue body on company resources. None of Sylwanin's DNA, so no watching her grow in the tank that would be Sully's, no waiting to see whatever would be left if you hooked an empty Avatar into the Tree of Souls, if you'd get something like a return or nothing, nothing, nothing...

No breath. No life. No meat, or at least not enough of it to go around, not enough bodies to go around. Just cold, hard cash and an ache in the pit of her stomach as she scratches meaninglessly, thoughtlessly, because where the hell are her cigarettes. Where the hell are her--

A hand on her shoulder and she yelps, something undoubtedly expensive slipping through her fingers and clattering to the floor.

"Jesus, Marine," she snaps, because it's Sully, of course it's Sully, standing there with a stupid look on his face and hair slipping out of his braid. Grace shoves him off with a huff. "Personal space, remember?"

She turns back to her work, eyes narrowed. A stack of bundles...shells? Grace frowns. When had she been collecting shells?

"I don't suppose you know what happened to my cigarettes," she mutters, glancing up at Sully. He's still standing there, stiller than she's ever seen him, wearing an expression she can't quite read.

"Marine?" Grace waves her hand in front of his face, but he doesn't respond. "You read me?"

He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything there's another voice, young, feminine. "Kiri?"

Grace turns her head, frowning. There's a Reef Na'vi girl walking towards them, wearing Metkayina garb–Metkayina? When had the Metkayina been visiting the Omatikaya?

"Kiri?" the girl asks, looking worried--looking at Grace. She takes a step forward and Grace automatically takes a step back, feeling something skid under her foot (sand, not soil, where's the soil, where's the ground) and she falls with a curse, Sully yelping as he lunges to catch her.

"Easy," he says, but his hands are shaking. "Easy. Fuck. Okay." She can feel his pulse pounding, she can feel his panic gathering, she can feel the world moving and shuddering around her, she can feel everything, and she knows that--she knows--

"Reya, go get my mom and dad," Sully says, his voice taut, and there's the slap of feet against sand as the Metkayina girl runs. The slap of feet, and the thudding of waves, the howling of wind in the trees. Blood grubbing as Sylwanin heaves for air, as Tom Sully chokes out, as Neteyam--

--Neteyam--

Not enough bodies to go around. Not enough bodies, too expensive to look back, too much.

"Kiri." Sully's got his hands on her face, cool against her skin. Five fingers, strong and callused, resting lightly around the corners of her eyes. "You gotta breathe, Kir."

She can't. She's choking, she's choking on her first cigarette, she's choking on her own blood, she's choking on every lie she's ever swallowed with eyes sewn shut. She's choking on Sully's hand wrapped around her throat like a bad dream, like a memory.

"I've got you," he whispers, pulling her close. "You're not leaving us, Kir."

Kir. Kiri. Little atokirina. Little miracle, little secret, little liar, little ghost…

Over his shoulder she can see Tom Sully and Sylwanin (only it's not them, she knows this, she knows this just enough to wish she didn't) running her way. They're shadows, running, looking for the blood stolen from their veins; they're shadows, running, come to make sure she pays every single of her debts.

[op3ra]

a flaw observed in early steam trains caused a repeat issue where trains simply could not understand the fragility of humans, nor the concept of human death, leading to several documented deaths caused by unfamiliar trains accidentally 'denting' their human engineers.

although later-built trains no longer had these misunderstandings, such incidents lead to precautions being put in place against humans working on or near trains in their humanoid forms.

[onthesandsofdreams]

A Stark She Remains [15/?]

Fandom: ASoIaF Characters: Sansa Stark, Tyrion Lannister Warning: Character Death

On AO3

In her chamber, Sansa wakes in cold sweat.

Her heart is racing and her palms feel clammy. All her instincts are screaming at her that something is wrong. She looks at the window, outside, the stars and the moon can be seen, so she strains her hearing to see if there is something out of place, but the castle seems too quiet and calm for that.

The Queen.

The thought comes unbidden and that is when she knows that she must act, and fast. Whatever the Queen is planning, it cannot be good. Throwing her sheets away, she rushes to the door and checks the bolt, locked. She allows herself a moment to breathe and then rushes for quill and ink, takes the book from its hiding place and stares at the blank pages for a moment.

The Queen had to die.

No matter what Lord Tyrion said, the Queen would never let her go. She knew that with the certainty that the sun rose and set. The Queen, if cornered would do something. Probably order her death. She shivered.

She takes a long, calming breath and lets it out. Counts to ten, dips her quill in the ink and writes Cersei Lannister, her sleep.

There.

She watches as the ink gets absorbed and the pages turn white again. And she feels lighter and freer than before. Whatever the Queen planned, she had beaten her to it. She would carve her freedom from the monsters that killed her father, Lady and kept her away from her family. She would wait until Robb sent someone or his answer to the letter that Lord Tyrion had written to deal with him too.

She nods, whatever happens to the Queen this night, she did not care. So long as Cersei Lannister died, she would be safer. Without the Queen, Lord Tyrion would truly have control and those who would obey the Queen without question, would have to obey the King's uncle.

She closed the book and hid it again,put away the quill and ink and went back to sleep.

~~

The next morning, she wakes to a flurry of activity. To people weeping and harried looking men and women of the court. And she knows, the Queen is dead.

Bearing a look of confussion, she heads toward the Throne room, that would be the best place to hear the news. And she finds a solemn looking Lord Tyrion there already, he seems frazzled and not as well put together as other occasions.

She does her best to remain unseen and waits. Lord Tyrion clears his throat, "My Lords and ladies, it is yet again my sad duty to inform the court of my sister, The Queen's passing." She watches as he hesitates. "The maester cannot explain it and it happened during her sleep. She was alone, thankfully my nephew did not see his mother. She has been given to the Silent Sisters to be attended as befits her former status, and my nephew has extended the mourning period to six moon turns."

The crowd gasps and she looks down, it would not do to have these people see her smile.

~~

Much later, she will find through gossiping servants that the Queen was found bleeding from her eyes, ears, nose and mouth. It is only in the privacy of her room that she allows herself to smile.

[honorary-fool]

Mortal Treatment || Whumptober 2023 Day 2

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

-----

cw/tw: swearing, mention of emeto/vomit (nothing happens though), mentions of a previous character's death, blood mentions (not real),

misc notes: oc x canon, oc uses they/them & vae/vaer neopronouns, first attempt at trying to write actual delirium but I think it turned out okay ^^ ; also used a prompt by @whumpster-dumpster ; not beta read ; cross-posted on ao3 under mimikyu_nerd_69

word count: 2.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          Archons don’t get sick. They can't catch the flu, and are immune to stomach bugs. Common colds may as well tremble in their presence. Mortal medicine has little to no effect on their divine selves, as do the illnesses they contract and spread every once in a blue moon. Allergies are a different case, as they are not sickness, rather just reactions to things of the mortal world- Barbatos would know first hand. But a genuine illness afflicted upon one of The Seven? That would simply be unheard of!

          But most of the archons still have their gnosis in their possession, and without the chess-like pieces they are much weaker, both in terms of their power and general vulnerability. No one had thought to inform the anemo archon of this information, especially after his gnosis was taken rather painfully by The Fair Lady.

          At first Venti thought of the symptoms as merely his feline allergy rearing its head again. After all, he had been in the city earlier in the day- stray cats roaming the streets were a common sight in Mondstadt (and they seemed to really like him, furry bastards). 

          Surely that would explain the fatigue and the headache and blurry vision and puffy eyes and a particularly persistent case of the sniffles.. right?

          Venti made it to the Whispering Woods without blacking out or injury. With a less-than-graceful 'oomph', he dropped to the grass, and his lyre tumbled to the grass beside him with a low thump. He attempted to sit up and lean against the tree close by, but a lack of energy and faint body aches made it rather difficult. Okay, that's fine, it could be worse- he could've been in the middle of nowhere in Liyue with Geovishaps after him in such a state. 

          The bard closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself before he attempted again to sit up. This time it was a lot more successful, but still left him achy and fatigued. He leaned back against the rough bark, closing his eyes again to try and drown out the pounding headache at the back of his skull. It felt like someone was whacking him over the head with a flat end of a claymore. At least it was dark outside, so the sun wouldn't bother him like it did earlier in the day.

          There were no monsters in sight, so maybe it wouldn't hurt to doze off for a bit...

~=+=~

          Venti wasn't sure when he came to consciousness again, but he definitely knew the surroundings looked vastly different from before.

          He attempted to bolt, fearing he'd been kidnapped, only to fall off of something..fuzzy? and tumble face-first onto the floor. Everything felt like it was spinning, so it was hard to tell where exactly he was, which only added to how horrible he physically felt.

          Chills seeped into his bones, sending shivers down his spine and a cold sweat down his neck. Lights burned overhead, leaving him slightly overwhelmed by the heat and brightness. The headache remained, and as far as he could tell, it either stayed the same or worsened since he blacked out. Everything hurt all over, both from the fall and pre-existing body aches, and his limbs felt like jelly beneath him. He groaned, trying to hide from the light and in his arm instead.

"Taking that as the cue you've finally woken up.." Venti heard a familiar voice call, followed by footsteps.

          A head of teal hair poked their head into the room, immediately finding him on the floor with a sad smile. Of course his partner found him. At least it was someone he trusted to not have ill intent.

"Oh, you poor dear... you're in a worse state than I found you last night," Carmen cooed, approaching before kneeling on the floor next to Venti. "I'm glad I found you when I did... are you okay?"

"Mmh..."

          Seems he had little energy to speak as well. Lovely.

"Shit..," Carmen murmured as they reached forward, cupping his cheek in their hand as they slightly lifted his head up. "That's strange, your braids seem a little duller than usual... Hold still for me for a moment, I need to test somethin'.."

          Vae leaned to press a gentle kiss to the other's forehead, pulling away after a few seconds. Their expression, initially one of mild worry, shifted to one of concern, almost fear.

"You're burning up, lovebug... I thought it was a hangover, but you didn’t smell like wine, an’ I fear this might be worse," they attempted to joke, despite the worry lacing vaer tone. "Hopefully it’s nothing more than just a bad cold. I'm gonna try to get you back on my bed, okay?"

          Now that they said it, that does sound right..part of him wondered why vae didn’t bring him to his own room, but maybe they panicked..rightfully so, but still.

          Venti gave a weak nod, before returning his head to the cold floor beneath him. He lazily watched them as they stared with narrowed eyes for a few moments in silent contemplation. Carmen had carried him around multiple times, too many to count, but he's always been upright or standing prior to.. not exactly ill and flat on his stomach on the floor.

          After minutes of struggling through various attempts, Carmen finally had him sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning against their body for support. Once up there, they started to remove most of his layers in an attempt to cool him down a little bit. One hand gingerly undid the bow securing his cape while the other reached to grab the fallen beret off the floor. He managed to kick off his loafers himself, and vae moved behind him to loosen the laces on his corset. They even undid his braids, setting the hair elastics on the bedside table and carding their fingers through the sections to loosen the braids. Every garment removed was carefully set aside to fold up later, and by the time they finished, all he was left in was his shirt, shorts, and tights. 

          Afterwards, they gently pushed him to lay down, almost pulling the blanket over him before deciding against it.

“Is this helping? Do you feel a bit cooler yet?”

          Venti whined in response, curling up on his side.

          They sighed, gently placing their hand on his head and scratching at his scalp. A sad smile formed on their lips as they watched him lean into their touch almost instantly, like magnetic attraction.

"If you're gonna be okay being alone for a few minutes, I'm gonna grab a few things from the kitchen, okay?"

          Carmen tried to hide their laugh at the pout their partner had, glazed-over puppy eyes staring at them under dark hair. It’d be cute if he wasn’t sick..

"I'll be quick, I promise.. you don't feel like you're gonna throw up, right?"

          They felt him shake his head from under their palm, vaer hand moving with him.

"Then you'll be okay for five minutes, sweet pea.."

          They leaned over to gently place a kiss on the flushed tip of his nose, removing their hand from his head before leaving for the door.

          Venti watched them leave, staring off into space. Maybe the heat was getting to be too much, but he didn’t have the energy to use his anemo abilities to cool himself off.

          So, he just stared at the dark brown door, which then became staring at the darker brown floor, and then nothing at all as his vision blurred. Why was it so hard to focus, was this normal? It couldn’t be, but why was it so difficult to keep his eyes focused- did it really take that much energy?

          He sniffled quietly, rubbing at his eyes- maybe that would help?

          When he pulled his hand away, he saw a brown and white blur against the wall. 

“Mhh…” he groaned, trying to move himself closer to the edge of the bed to see it. Of course, he could only get so far in his weakened state.

          The blur looked..scarily reminiscent of someone. The colors were in all the right places, it had to be…

          They were dead though. He saw it with his own eyes. Why were they here if they’re dead?? 

          Too absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t notice them come closer until pale blue eyes were staring right into his. He tensed, startled, before trying to reach out for them. His hand went right through them, and for a moment he felt the color drain from his face.

“Wh..”

          They’re..they’re gone, but they’re here! But they’re gone… But they’re here…

          Venti kept trying to touch them, to grab their hand, feel some sort of warmth and solidity in their form. Pale hand kept swiping at air, cutting through the image of his late best friend.

“No.. no no no no-”

          His hand shook as he kept trying, until it fell limply back to the mattress, until his vision became too blurry to see them completely.

“Don’t go..come back..” he pleaded, sniffling.

          The white and brown figure backed away slowly, out through the open doorway.

“Come back..”

          The god’s eyes burned, and this time he rubbed at them with his sleeve. When he pulled his arm away, he saw red.

“Carmen..? Carmen..!” he choked out, clawing at the sheets, oblivious to how they left no streaks of blood. “Carmen.. ‘m bleeding..”

          Venti saw the figure slowly return, kneeling at his side again.

“Why’s..why’s it back? Carmen..!” 

          He kept crying out for his partner, increasingly overwhelmed from the light, and the blood, and the image of his dead best friend taunting him with its presence, and-

“I’m here, sweetheart..”

          In the white and brown figure’s place was his partner, looking down at him in concern. Carmen gently cupped his cheek with warm, pale hands, wiping away the tears with vaer thumb. If his eyes didn’t deceive him, he could’ve sworn they flinched.

“Shhh, it’s okay..” they cooed, “I’m here, you’re safe…”

“But..but ‘m bleeding-”

“Bleeding?”

          They watched him raise his hand to show him. He didn’t understand why they took his hand in theirs almost instantly and gently squeezed it- why would they immediately touch something bloody?

“There’s no blood, sweet pea, I promise…it’s a bit wet with tears, but that’s about it..” they reassured him, letting go of his hand after a few moments.

“Oh..”

“Is that why you’re crying?”

          He nodded, rubbing at his eyes again. “Mhmm… an… an’ I saw someone..”

“Oh?” Carmen tilted their head slightly. “That’s..a bit worrying. Who exactly did you see..?”

“Mhh…my, my friend..”

          Thankfully, knowing of the archon’s background, it didn’t take long to figure out who he most likely meant, despite a few people fitting the description of just ‘his friend’. If it were one of the others, they’d be mentioned by name, but because this one wasn’t, then that meant…

“I see…”

          It broke their heart to see him so upset, between the illness and likely resurfaced grief. Poor bastard’s had to put up with so much shit- not that they haven’t either, but there’s a difference between being an immortal god that’s been around for centuries and an immortal elf that’s been around for even less time.

          They pulled away for a moment, crawling up onto their bed to sit next to the god. Vae gently turned vaer partner over onto his other side, frowning at how he winced from the movement. Seems those body aches haven’t left…

“I’m sorry it took so long to come back, by the way..I got sidetracked trying to make soup..” They eyed the tray they put on the bedside table, watching the steam rise from the radish and veggie soup bowl. “I did get the thermometer though…let’s see, just ooone second-”

          Carmen reached over the god and plucked the thermometer off the tray. They pressed a button, waited for the beep, then carefully stuck it under his tongue.

“Good..it’s only for a minute, I know it’s uncomfortable..” 

          They held the thermometer with one hand and used the other to play with Venti’s hair in an attempt to distract him from the uncomfortable sensation. Thank goodness Fontaine made these a while ago- they couldn't imagine how people used to figure out temperatures without them.

          Finally, the thermometer beeped, and they removed it to look at the number.

“Shit… 39.4. No wonder you were hallucinating your friend…”

          Carmen sighed, setting the thermometer down before trying to move the god to sit up against the pillows. He let vaer do so, not having the energy to do it himself or protest other than a wince of pain, to which they mumbled an apology. 

          As soon as he was sorted out, they reached for the tray on the bedside table, deciding it best to maybe get some form of sustenance in his system to help combat the illness. There’s not much that can be done, given mortal medicine’s a hit or miss, but that has to work, right?

          Vae was about to lift a spoonful to his mouth, when they realized he was nodding off against their shoulder. Into the bowl goes the spoon, their hand reaching up to play with his hair instead. Later then, they decided, ‘cus for now he needs all the rest he can get.

[doctordonovan]

psa; anyway, this is your reminder that no matter the verse... maeve dies young and long before her loved ones. yes I think her dying at 26 in canon is bullshit and she deserves more time but - hers was always going to be a short book.

yes in her the old guard and marvel/dc verses she escapes death for much longer than usual but even then: loving maeve is losing maeve.

[blue-nardo]

"The Attack."

OOC: OKAY MORE PLOT BECAUSE I'M ADDICTED AND IT'S THE ONLY THING I CAN WRITE RN!! In this thrilling installment, we see a fight, Leo and Yuichi, and we sprinkle the seeds for future problems.

Trigger warnings are mentions of injuries, canon typical violence, and mention of character death. Enjoy!

"LEO HELP!"

That's the plea Leo hears from his communicator mere moments after he's been attacked by sentient goop. It had tried to attach itself to his face like some kind of parasite, and maybe he was still having a hard time breathing because of it, but he didn't care as he opened a portal, dragging himself, Donnie, Casey and Venus into the side of the ship where Cass and her team had been looking. 

They see a large beast, with wires connected to it from somewhere high in the room, towering over Mikey, Cass and April while Raph holds it off in his astral form. Leo's first thought is that he has to get Raph out, that he can't let him be taken again, that it hasn't been ten years yet - please don't take his brother from him again - when the beast stops, directing its attention directly on him. 

"Host…"

The wind is knocked from Leo's chest as he's yanked back from his brothers and into the wall. He hears Donnie and Venus shout for him, but can't really focus on anything outside of the ringing in his ears as his vision starts to swim. The stitches in his arms ache something fierce as he tries to weakly pull away the slimy grossness keeping him cocooned. There's the sound of fighting somewhere in front of him, but there's only one word in his head that seems to matter. 

"Prime. Prime. Prime. Prime."

Leo's gasping for air now as his vision goes dark, and he weakly kicks at the air in front of him. There's a roar in the distance, and a bright flash of light, and he's starting to think that maybe he's not getting out of this one either. 

It's creeping in his skin, under his bandages and going straight for the cuts he got from Sister Kraang. He's going limp now, and his finals thoughts are going to be that of how he hopes his family won't hold back, that they'll put him out of his misery if he turns. 

"IKUZO!"

The familiar sound of a sword slicing through air greets his ears, and suddenly gravity has its hold on him again as he's suddenly freed. He hits the ground hard, choking for air as two pairs of arms grab him and pull him up. He tries to blink, tries to listen for the voices calling his name, before finally Leo sees the faces that have been haunting his mind for days. 

"Yuichi? Miyamoto?" he rasps weakly, and he thinks about how that means his larynx is probably bruised. "What… you both have to go, now."

"Not without taking out this thing first," Yuichi growls, and it would be so much more attractive if Leo could actually think right now. 

"What is it?" Miyamoto asks. His grip on Leo is firm and tight, protective, and despite the circumstances, Leo actually feels safe. "Is it a Yokai?"

"Alien," Leo coughs as he tries to stand, using Miyamoto for support. "Kraang monster… Must have been hiding out here… Gotta get the… The herbicide!"

"APRIIIIIL O'NEIL!" He looks up to see April mashing a vial of the stuff onto the giant Mutt, and he watches with relief as it reels back from his family. Thankfully, they all seem to be okay, with Donnie, Casey and Mikey in the air while Raph and the others catch April from her fall. Already he wants back in the fight, to portal and teleport his team to where they need to be. Unfortunately for him, his sense of balance doesn't agree right now, and Miyamoto has to catch him again when he tries to stand. 

"Oh gross," he hears Yuichi cringe. "What is all this stuff?"

"DON'T - " Leo's eyes go wide when he feels Yuichi's hands go to the Kraang slime on his arm. He smacks Yuichi's hand away, pure adrenaline keeping him up as he pulls back from Miyamoto. "Don't let this stuff get on or in you! Trust me, it's not gonna end pretty if it does!"

"Leo, are you okay?!" He hears Mikey call for him, and he turns to see his baby brother jumping down towards him, with way too much fear in his eyes. "Are you hurt??"

He shakes his head, keeping Miyamoto and Yuichi and Mikey at a distance. He can't touch them while this is on them. His eyes dart to the stains on Miyamoto's shirt - he's pretty sure it's offensive to call it that, but he doesn't know the actual name for it… 

"Miyamoto, take off your shirt."

Both Yuichi and Miyamoto turn to him with wide eyes, a clear blush on both of their faces. Mikey seems to follow his line of thinking though when his eyes land on the purple stains of the bright blue fabric. It isn't long before he's gasping and trying to pull the shirt off as well. 

"You can't get this stuff on you!" Mikey insists as Miyamoto lets him pull it off. "Trust us, it always ends ugly!"

"But what about Leo?" Yuichi sounds worried, almost, but Leo's eyes are back on the fight. 

"Use more of the herbicide," he directs Mikey, ignoring the question. "Tell Donnie to go semi-lethal too. Don't let that thing get into the city."

Mikey nods, and his chains begin to glow as he quite literally flings himself back into the fight. Leo rolls his shoulders back, and leans down to grab his swords. He stops though, when Yuichi steps closer, and glances back up at the Usagi brothers. 

They're worried, they both are. He gets it - there's a fight going on, and they've got questions. So he has to make it quick. 

He picks up his swords, giving them a testing twirl before gesturing to the Mutt. "Don't let it cut you, don't get this junk on you. Worry about me after the fight."

"Leonardo-San, are you - "

"Hey, listen we'll have plenty of time to debate if I'm okay or not when we take this thing down, now let's go!"

They win the fight, of course they do. Between all of their mystic powers and Yuichi and Miyamoto joining in, it's all too easy. April's herbicide does most of the work in taking the thing down, and Leo brings them all home once he's sure it's dead. Casey is quick to shove him into a hot shower as he gives himself a full body physical. There aren't any new injuries that he can see, so nothing that the Kraang ooze can infect him with, and he has no way of knowing if the stitches on his arm kept him safe from anything getting in there. 

Removing his bandages, he glares at the bruising spreading out from his cuts and tries not to overthink. It's just purple, it's not pink, he reasons. It could just be bruises from the attack, nothing else. 

He decides that Casey can't know, and neither can his brothers. Not in the event that this is nothing. Right now they need to focus on the mission and keeping the Foot Clan from bringing the Kraang back into this fight. That's the priority, and he can worry about his arm in the meantime.

"So what was all that about?"

He lets out the most undignified shout when he hears Yuichi's voice, whirling around to see him standing in the doorway. He looks smug, like usual, probably pleased with himself that he managed to sneak up on Leo again. 

"What happened to, 'sneaky ninjas are the most dishonorable creatures known to man?'" He rolls his eyes before sitting back down on the toilet seat, rewrapping his arm. "And obviously it was a giant Kraang monster, or did you miss that part?"

Yuichi lets out an annoyed sound, and Leo feels just the tiniest bit of pride in that. As attractive as Yuichi may be, he still likes to piss him off.

"You got covered in that purple ooze and acted like it was a zombie virus thing when you got it off my brother. Who, by the way, you totally embarrassed asking him to take his Yukata off like that. You know he's the biggest prude ever, right?"

Leo rolls his eyes, but doesn't look up, instead focusing on getting his arm wrapped up. "Is that what that's called? Noted. Next time I'll ask him to take off his Yukata, not his shirt."

"Okay, I get it, not the point," Yuichi groans, before deciding that he's suddenly welcome in the bathroom, stepping closer to look at Leo's arm. "You haven't answered my question."

Leo gives him a scrutinizing look, before extending his arm out for Yuichi to finish wrapping. "The reason I did that is because it kind of is a zombie virus thing. Just an alien zombie virus."

"Haha, very funny." There's silence, before Yuichi's ears go straight up. "Wait, you're being serious?"

"Yup," Leo hums, popping the P. 

"Jeez…" Yuichi's hands pause in their movements as he seems to deflate. Leo wants to comment on it, but Yuichi beats him to saying something. "What about you…?"

Leo pauses, tipping his head to the side in confusion. "What about me?"

Yuichi gestures silently to him with his free hand, indicating the lack of purple ooze all over Leo's body. "You were soaked with the stuff, and you were attacked before. How do we know you don't have the zombie alien virus thing?"

It's… A surprisingly good question. Leo had thought Yuichi wouldn't notice, or if he had, wouldn't think to bring it up. The rabbit had already established his own total lack of a brain cell, Leo figured that it would have applied here. 

"Short answer… We don't," he sighs. "But until I know for certain one way or the other… That information stays quiet, okay?"

Yuichi narrows his eyes. "A leader doesn't lie to his team."

"Compartmentalizing. Need to know."

"And your family isn't need to know?"

Leo inhales sharply at that, glaring back at Yuichi. Normally he doesn't really mind their banter, only really reacting because he thinks it's funny. That being said, family was off limits. 

"You don't know the whole story," he huffs at Yuichi. "I want us to focus on stopping the Foot Clan first. If this," he points to his arm, trying not to think about the future that it implies, "gets worse? They're the first to know, and we deal with it then."

"Deal with it, how, exactly?" Yuichi crosses his arms as he glares down at him, and Leo isn't sure if he likes that expression or if it makes him nervous. 

Leo lets out a slow breath, keeping his voice even. "... Casey will know that he can't hold back. If chopping it off doesn't work… I know he'll get them to do what it takes to stop me."

The silence is unnerving, but Leo won't be the one to break it. Yuichi needs to understand that this isn't a game, or a lighthearted mission, not like he wants it to be. In a past life, he might have made a joke to ease the tension, but that was before the Kraang took his brother from him. Before he'd learned how long he'd really had his brothers for in Casey's time. 

Before his heart had stopped beating to stop them. 

Yuichi's eyes go wide as the realization hits him, and for once Leo thinks he can't see the usual judgment or anger that shines in his bright red eyes. The thought of what could be, or what could have been, when it came to his own brother? Leo knew from personal experience that it was a lot to take in. 

"So… What now?"

Leo sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. He doesn't have the answer for that yet, but he can think of one on the fly. His mind has always been good at that, but he never learned to recognize that until recently. 

"Now… We make sure that we clean that wreck of anything Kraang related before someone in the city gets into it," he answers. "We can't let the Foot open a portal, and we cannot let anyone get infected. Capiche?"

"Uhhh, what does that mean?"

Leo can't help the smile on his face, even if he wants to. He needs it, he knows he does, because he's got this nagging feeling that pretty soon smiling isn't going to be easy. 

"It means… You're standing over me while I'm stark naked and tenderly bandaging my wounds," he teases, enjoying the blush on Yuichi's face. "I'm flattered, really, but I thought we were done with fake-out make-outs?"

Yuichi throws the bandages in his face, and Leo laughs as the rabbit storms out of the room. "Still waiting for you to make up for that by the way," he calls after him, grinning when he hears what is definitely not a nice string of words in Japanese shouted back at him. 

He inspects the bandages, nodding his approval before closing his eyes again. Rest, that's what he needs to plan their next mission… They've got this, he tries to reason with himself. They'll be okay. 

… First things first though, he thinks as he pulls out his phone. He needs to know more about Prime… and what the Mutt meant by, "Host."

[milksluice]

This was done for the 30 Days of Doing Shipping Wrong meme: "They are the worst possible thing to happen to each other" ship.

Above is their meetcute. I'm not even going to cheapen this post by pointing out that the second image down on the right is how Peter looks when he's saying to Tom, "I heard you were desperate to come." And the third image down, on the left, is how he looks when he's saying, "I was rather looking forward to rowing you around."

It's always good to remember this: Peter stands in the light. While Tom stands in the dark.

But here's Peter, welcoming Tom into his world. And Tom, being immensely good at reading the cards in other people's hands, knows that if he acts like the little bird with the broken wing, that Peter will be absolutely helpless to come to his rescue. That he'll keep the bird within the palms of his hands, and guard it well.

See, pretending to be weak, around someone who can become quite protective, means wielding a power over that person far greater than if one were to approach someone such as Peter, as a man of power. Luckily for Tom, he's exactly the type of person that people don't mind being over-powered by (knowingly or not). At least for people such as Peter, Meredith, and myself.

Peter, unfortunately, places himself on the chopping block when he brings up the rumor that Tom may have been killed. I think that Tom is even a little offended that after he put so much work into Dickie's letter to Tom, and that in general, anyone could believe that Dickie could possibly kill him. Him, whom Dickie loves. Like a 'brother'. And for a moment, Tom seems like he might lose his cool, but then he smiles, nervously, and Peter restores their balance by saying the idea of it is absolutely ridiculous.

More insight on the light vs. dark issue in costuming, as well as more insight into what goes into Tom portraying himself as vulnerable.

And though Peter welcomed Tom into his light-bound, open arms, Tom has immediately pulled Peter into the dark underbelly, where he now lives.

Here's the thing. Tom is just a person. He may be... more or less evil, but he is just a person. However, his life depends on whether or not he can fool everyone into believing that he's done nothing wrong. So when he cracks in front of Peter - when he shows that fear cropping up because they've sent for someone from Rome (someone who might know him as Dickie) - I'd like to think it's because there's this part of Tom that just feels so comfortable with Peter. Now, who wouldn't? Peter is nurturing and caring, and genuinely kind. But for Tom to break in front of Peter for even a moment, without the threat of killing Peter after. I think it's somewhat special. He's showing his fear in a normal human capacity, which begs for comfort. Comfort from Peter.

Here, you see that Tom is actually quite good at understanding Italian. That he answered is a slip, a mistake because he's nervous. It reaffirms that the language barrier was a part of feigning his broken wing.

From here, Peter takes Tom's charming smile, and then translates throughout the rest of the conversation.

I'm afraid I must admit. There is one part of Tom I still haven't quite figured out after all these years. I suppose Tom thought it would make him look more guilty to admit that he has homosexual desires. And you see his denial throughout practically the entire movie - I guess because some people just aren't ready to admit who they are. Tom, especially. But it always seemed like the least of his problems... In any case, he says no. In front of Peter no less, who seems to take the answer to be one striving for privacy, rather than truth. Because he is not pleased with the question, himself. In fact, he makes a quip to lighten the mood, and put Tom at ease. It never even comes up later, which I think is especially sweet of Peter. He just takes Tom's wishes in stride.

But let me not wax on about how adorable Peter is with Tom. Because this is supposed to be why this ship is all wrong. And god is it wrong.

Then Tom ignores the way Peter tries to swaddle him, and tells Peter a lie - to lie for him, and say that he has a fiance. Which, I think, Peter is surprised to hear, and perhaps a little hurt, though he continually goes with the flow of things. But yet again, he never forces the subject later on. He respects Tom too much to do so. Or perhaps considers Tom too fragile. Either way, it is for Tom's sake.

I'd like to say that I find it interesting that, here, Tom chooses not to lie. No. He did not kill Freddie and then Dickie.

By asking Peter, frantically, to ask if the Inspector is accusing him, he is begging Peter to place himself in front of Tom, to protect him again. The very reason he brought Peter with him. He's merely putting on a show.

That's when the Inspector pulls out the letter Tom wrote in Dickie's name.

Here, I couldn't say for sure. I feel that Peter's expression, upon finding out it's a 'suicide note' is one of anger, and of disbelief. Anger, perhaps for Tom, for the same reasons Tom expresses as he shouts afterward. And disbelief because all the time he's known Dickie... he'd never kill himself. Or that's what he thought, anyway. I think it's probably a little of both. Which can be confusing, contradicting, and cloud the mind a little.

Now, this scene is arguably everyone's favorite.

I think I'll mainly let it speak for itself. It starts with the fact that Peter shows what is, conceivably, sympathy for someone who may have killed. A situation which Tom, himself, is in, and perhaps expects not to be sympathized with at all. And Tom, despite everything, feels like he can divulge certain pieces of truth to Peter, that to anyone else, he would hide.

He makes him feel human. Not like a demon.

But of course... If Peter needs a whole building to hide his sins, then how big of a space must Tom's take up? So Tom has to fish for some more reassurance. And it may seems as if Tom is just playing, acting, again, but there's a buried, harsh, and painful truth beneath the words he says.

The sadness, the longing in Tom's eyes - was never a lie.

It honestly disturbs Tom, I think, that Peter allows Tom to feel... loved, and genuinely accepted. Not 'allows him', actually, but forces the love upon him. Something Tom has denied himself, possibly forever, and which will cause the greatest feeling of loss and utter self-hatred that Tom will ever feel. Meanwhile, he nearly convinces Peter that Peter is his One, which lulls Peter into a sense of false hope. A sense of trusting, and the future of being together, close and loved.

May I reiterate? Peter is the light.

But if Peter is the light, and Tom is the dark - and if Tom lets the light in, to conquer the dark...

This is mostly just because I'm in love with the song here. Here is a version done by a Slovak philharmonic orchestra and choir, with a translation of the gorgeous lyrics.

There is one lyric of the song which says: Lord, have mercy on him [the guilty man to be judged]. Not only is Peter in the 'choir' asking for this; he is at the center of it. Looking down at Tom. The song then goes on to say: Grant them [presumably those whom the guilty man caused harm] eternal rest. Stating that they would only have rest, not if the guilty man were judged, but if he were judged mercifully.

At this unspecified moment in time, Peter has already fallen completely for Tom. And perhaps Tom, Peter.

I'd like to think this is a full representation of them in the after life. Tom comes in, below Peter leading a choir of angels, pleading with the Lord to grant Tom mercy. And Peter looks down, and sees him, and Tom smiles, and waves, and Peter smiles, and then turns back to the Lord while Tom watches in utter awe at the fact that someone is rooting for him. For him.

Excuse me while I cry over both of their smiles as Peter says he and Tom found each other.

I feel quite bad for Marge. It's a bit like throwing her into the lion's den. But Peter is stupidly proud of Tom so... He doesn't even realize what he's doing. I mean... Seriously, do you see how much Peter's cheeks are bulging from his smile after Tom says Peter found the place for him? Just... I think from this point on I'm going to disintegrate into unintelligible sounds.

"It's better than trying to squeeze into my room." Somehow I doubt Tom would agree, if it were him.

Of course, Marge goes on to be a startling reminder of who Tom really is.

The funny thing is (it's not funny) that Tom will act weak in front of Peter in order to gain his protection, but when he could truly use some protection and comfort, he becomes shy about it, and refuses Peter's warmth. Much to Peter's disappointment. And Tom's, I guarantee you. Okay, so he refuses to a point. And then they make bedroom eyes at each other and I want to kill myself.

It's Marge who's shaking and crying in his arms, but Peter wants to know if Tom is okay.

My insufficient theory on why it was Peter who Tom was thinking about when he was in the bath. Worrying about, even. Wanting. Romantically. Sort of. Maybe.

This scene would have been much better if Peter had kissed Tom's forehead at the end. Still, it's sweet how he gently rubs the bandage on.

NOPE. I may actually vomit in a moment.

This is the end. As soon as it sinks in that someone is calling Dickie's name; the end is coming.

"Are you alone?" he asks, with dim hope, and his heart in his throat.

And that's when he knows. He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. His world is crashing down...

I actually hate everything. Fucking shit, I did not want to cry while doing this... But I'm here to do a job - oh look, Tom's mouth is fucking turned down I wonder the fuck why.

The way his voice wavers over 'good'.

I can't breathe. Which is fitting.

The destruction, the panic I feel from seeing one strip of cloth. I fucking...

He is, in fact, so panicked himself, that he slips up again, calling himself Dickie. He becomes dissociative. If he's Dickie, he's not in love with Peter, and this won't hurt, what he's about to do. But Peter corrects him, and there's nothing left to do. But the thing is... Tom no longer exists. At least, in a few minutes, he won't.

At least this ends with my favorite line.

I might definitely vomit.

More impressions on the - situation.

And here is another, prettier picspam.