#Difference and Repetition

[raffaellopalandri]

Book of the Day – Difference and Repetition - Part 2

In the first part of our analysis of Difference and Repetition, we traced Deleuze’s critical demolition of the representational image of thought. Difference and Repetition, by Gilles Deleuze We followed his genealogical unmasking of the principles that have governed Western philosophy’s approach to thinking: identity, opposition, analogy, and resemblance. Deleuze showed that each of these…

[bixels]

(Sunset!) Sunset!

Have you always been alone?

(Sunset!) Sunset!

Have you never loved again?

Some design sketches for Sunset, the Witch of Fire, the Flame of the West. A leaf in the wind, she travels from town to town with her trusty steed Shimmer, bringing trouble wherever they go.

[pcktknife]

sketch graveyard

[felassan]

Compilation of snippets from the DA:TV acting talent panel at SDCC (Dragon Age: Meet the Heroic Companions of Thedas) today (July 26th). DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Huge props and tysm to the users who live-tweeted and clipped this panel, you are heroes 🙏💜!!

The panel was moderated. In attendance were John Epler, creative performance director Ashley Barlow, and the actors of Lucanis, Neve, Emmrich, and Harding - Zach Mendez, Jessica Clark, Nick Boraine, and Ali Hillis respectively.

The panel ended with a Q&A session.

(BioWare have stated that a recording of the panel will be made available at a later date.)

Edit/update: I've now been through this post and tidied it up :)

---

Here are some pictures from the panel [source]

Here are some more pictures from the panel [source]

In this Twitter thread there are also some video clips of parts of the panel [source]

BioWare tried to avoid spoilers in the panel [source]

Key points/summary of DA:TV: hunting Solas, found family companions, stop the elven gods [source]

When auditioning the companions, BW were specifically looking for character chemistry [source]

BW used motion capture for the game [source]. Mo-cap was mentioned a lot in the panel [source]

Lucanis sees assassination as a job. His mind is as dangerous as his knives and he is also "kinda hilarious" [source]

There was mention of other Crows [source]

Zach Mendez read Tevinter Nights like three times [source]

A clip of the actors doing mo-cap was shown [source]. Photos of Zach mo-capping for other characters was shown [source]

BioWare said that Zach brought a certain darkness to Lucanis [source]

Zach is excited for the romance and is looking forward to the stats [source]

Zach mentioned that he used his own relationship with his brother in his portrayal of Lucanis [source] (surely this means ILLARIO.. ?👀)

Zach played a lot of darkspawn originally while auditioning [source]

Ali Hillis really welcomed Zach into the DA family [source]

Neve is from Minrathous. She has fun banter and is a cynical detective with a heart of gold. They want to show a rebellious side of Tevinter [source]

Jessica Clark loves Neve's loyalty, dedication, and different vision of Tevinter

Neve is fighting for the people [source]. Jessica: "She is really really fighting for those people, and she loves those people. So, yes, she's cynical, and yes she's kind of tough and brusque and all these other things, but when they say there's a heart of gold, there really, like, to have that kind of a passion and dedicate your life to something like that, I think that's definitely my favorite part about her" [source]

Jessica loves how much Neve loves Docktown and its people [source]

Neve sees a different vision for Tevinter than what has previously been depicted in the series [source]

The actors were separate from one another while recording lines but still bonded really well and organically [source]

There are several Veilguard gc [source] (groupchats?)

Ali is an angel and very supportive of the new cast [source]

Emmrich is a "stone cold silver fox" (this is a quote from the panel moderator) [source]

BioWare knew the reaction they would get about Emmrich from the fandom [source]

Nick Boraine feels like he's been preparing for Emmrich all his life. He's obsessed with death (as a comfort and not scary) and enabling people to transition into death. He is attracted to this aspect of the character [source]

"You're gonna need a dictionary for Emmrich" for all the magic spells [source]

"Interesting how this character caught fire compared to the other sexy characters" [source] (I think this was said wrt Emmrich?)

BW had a great time recording with Nick, he is a very consistent actor [source]

Nick and Matt Mercer have never met [source]

Manfred plays off of Emmrich. "I set the tone" [source]

What has Harding been doing in-between DA:I and DA:TV? She's been working closely with Varric and the Inquisition remnants. She and Neve already met in the comics [source]

Ali vividly remembers the beginning of voicing Harding, she says it's brilliant writing. She really thought of Harding's personality and traits. She's so happy to be back [source]

wrt the Covid-19 pandemic and the year 2020, BW had to pivot with working remotely and were able to push through their projects. [source]

"[Harding] chasing Solas for a decade..." "that was a great relationship that [you] developed... and now I'll stop talking now". Ali was excited [source]

John Epler talked about how companions may but heads, and won't be predictable [source]

There are thousands and thousands of lines and so many characters to meet [source]

Zach "unfortunately has been around the DA Reddit before recording as Lucanis" [source]. He feels inspired by all the fans and cannot wait for us to play it [source]

[new textblock due to character limit!]

John Epler on Emmrich: "I mean honestly, I will say, like, we expected a great reaction to Emmrich. Went beyond what we expected for sure. But it’s been fascinating to see, because again, Emmrich is this character, he’s more of the professorial, more, he brings a wisdom and kind of a calmness to the group, so even when things are at their worst, there’s that one person in the group who is kinda like, ‘okay, y’know, we've got, let's figure it out, let’s take a deep breath’. And just his journey through his character arc, and his interactions with the others, it’s been fantastic to see. Even just finding opportunities for him to bounce off the other characters, you know, the way he talks to Bellara, the way he talks to Neve, it’s all so different, but it’s also just, again, based around this core of this warm, kind-hearted, professorial necromancer. Which, again, is not something you see a lot of in media. I mean, usually, necromancers are depicted in a very specific way. But it’s been, it's awesome to see how Emmrich has grown and just, really one of the most, one of my favorite experiences has been just working with Emmrich’s writer, working with Emmrich as a character." [source]

All the actors are excited about the dialogue and narrative, and for us to explore DA:TV [source]

Ali says that we will really find ourselves in this game [source]

During the recording process, the actors all hear the previous person's recording and react or respond to it [source]

Due to Covid-related lockdown, a lot of recording was done over Zoom, and the writers besides Ashley Barlow (creative performance director) would jump in on the call to talk about the previous person’s lines [source]

A question was asked about the background factions. "Characters not causes". [source]

You can work with the Grey Wardens in the game (for example) [source]

The actors all met this weekend. They are an "un-chosen" family [source]

Zach stood in for multiple characters for mo-cap, for example he was Assan [source]

Lucanis has a heart but is stubborn and stuck in his ways. Zach is excited for fans to help his character open up as the story progresses [source]

Jessica is incredibly honored to join the DA universe. She is new to voice acting for video games. “This is play pretend. Playing Neve allowed her to step into her power.” [source]

A question was asked on what their first exposure to fantasy was, and do they implement this into the acting? John talked about Lord of the Rings and how every media you experience will seep out into your work [source]

Ashley didn't want the dialogue to sound modern [source]

Zach loves Theseus and talked about the symbolism in DA [source]

Jessica loves Greek mythology and lore [source]

Nick talked about The Hobbit and how he would dress up in big boots and a cape when his mother would read to him [source]

Ali recently went to Greece and felt like she saw DA everywhere [source]

A question was asked - "From your companion's perspective, which previous companion would you romance?" Zach kind of has a thing for The Iron Bull, saying "oh that awakened something inside of me". He also likes Dorian. Jessica was too overwhelmed to answer. Nick was also overwhelmed by the question, but thinks Solas is sexy [source] [source]

Ali fangirled over Lucanis and Emmrich [source], prefers Emmrich [source]

A question was asked - "Is DA:TV and DA:I streamlined together?" [paraphrased]. Answer: DA games are not as streamlined as Mass Effect and act almost as standalones [source]

The cast were asked about which aspect of their character is their favorite. Ali loves the little quirks about Harding. "Lucanis is a good cook!?" ** Neve is very dry and pretty closed off about it. For Emmrich, it's the "exploration of the idea of death and necromancy" [source] (** FINALLY CITATION for this? :D)

A question was asked: "How do you decide to introduce the lore in each game?" BioWare answered that it depends as they build each game. They always know the base lore, and see opportunities through game mechanics and characters. They try not to infodump [source]

A question was asked: "Any favorite party banter?" Ashley Barlow said to listen for "hand to bone combat" [source]

The game takes place approximately 10 years after the end of DA:I. You start the game hunting for Solas. The game is built on some core principles: be who you want to be in a world worth saving and with characters that matter. The companions are always at the heart of DA and they are at the heart of this game too. [source]

The moderator asked John Epler about what is bringing this party of people ("this rogues' gallery") together. John: "I mean, it's the end of the world, and each character that you bring into your party understands that the world is ending, that they need to stop that, and you're really building, what I would say is, more of a found family. These are characters who may not start off liking each other, may not even start off liking you, but over time they grow to understand the importance of what they're doing and just, how critical it is to stop the elven gods" [source]

"He is kind and has some spectacular lines. He is a natural nerdy scientist. He loves learning." [source] (Emmrich? ^^)

Ali didn't realize that Harding was such a beloved character. She thanked fans for bringing this character back [source]

Ali is super excited that the game is releasing. She said that there has been an evolution to Harding's character and that she's been chasing Solas for like a decade at this point [source]

Jessica loves the writing in the game [source]

Nick loves its narrative [source]

Ali said that this game is going to take you into a world that will blow your minds [source]

On Manfred: Nick was asked what it was like having another character to bounce off of. He said "Oh man! I mean, that is such a hard question, because Matt and I have never met, and we worked completely separately, and, I, I mean I know that the rapport is really great, but it's in the ether, I mean it is just, the magic that these guys create, telling us how to respond, how to do that, but it's, I can't wait to meet Matt" [source]

BW still said that the game's release window is Fall 2024 [source]. Nothing more specific was given [source]

There are also more snippets here in this Tumblr post, go check it out!

[source, two]

[flowercrowngods]

who did this to you. part 3

🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!

The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now. 

Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard. 

The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work. 

“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“ 

“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone. 

Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened? 

“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it. 

He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)

“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?” 

No. “Thanks.” 

The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening. 

He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she— 

“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees. 

He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again. 

“Hi.” 

“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“ 

“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.” 

That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe. 

The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again. 

“What about Steve.” 

Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth. 

“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.” 

“He… He’s hurt.” 

There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.” 

“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“ 

“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.” 

Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her. 

“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it. 

One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall. 

Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled. 

It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he— 

He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine. 

People don’t just die. 

They don’t. 

He’s fine. 

Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.

Eddie can relate.

Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression. 

Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this. 

It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently. 

And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue. 

But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time. 

He needs a smoke. 

He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life. 

But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes. 

It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles. 

“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him. 

Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him. 

She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt. 

I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.

But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit. 

But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or— 

“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today. 

“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate. 

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. 

“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.” 

And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while. 

She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.

He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?

But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie. 

That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. 

“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.” 

There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug. 

“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it. 

But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself. 

“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t? 

So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs. 

“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off. 

Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?” 

It’s stupid. Don’t say it. 

“Eddie?” 

With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”

Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out. 

He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues. 

“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean��� Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state. 

“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing. 

Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year. 

She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three? 

It seems surreal. Everything, everything does. 

Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues. 

Her favourite colour. Her favourite person. 

It’s so fucking surreal. 

He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead. 

And silence reigns. 

“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.” 

There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped. 

Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues. 

“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”

“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.” 

Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat. 

“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.” 

Tell me about your favourite person. 

Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into. 

And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”

She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her. 

“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.” 

There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication. 

“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?” 

Sniffling, Robin shakes her head. 

“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.” 

He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin. 

“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…” 

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now. 

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does. 

There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there. 

He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now. 

There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him. 

And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then. 

So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare. 

It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve. 

“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring. 

What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next. 

“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.” 

What?

Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.

“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.” 

That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean? 

“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.” 

And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse. 

Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley. 

Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth. 

And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley. 

It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing. 

“Why’d you call me?” 

It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson. 

He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips. 

“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”

Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.” 

She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession. 

“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?” 

Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow. 

“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?” 

And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue. 

Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers. 

“What, the ice cream parlour?” 

Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…” 

She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses. 

Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened. 

“He saved your life?” 

Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation. 

“In the fire? Were you there?” 

“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.” 

Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again. 

“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters. 

“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?” 

“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.” 

“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.” 

It is, isn’t it? 

You’re so blue, Stevie. 

She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.

Blue. ‘S nice. 

Yeah. Yeah, he is. 

Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look. 

Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago. 

He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around. 

Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around. 

And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait. 

The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence. 

“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?” 

“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.” 

🤍🌷 tagging:

@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)

[wishchip106]

i can’t believe some people see these guys as straight, no homo, heterosexual friends who are as close as brothers

nothing gay about any of these images

nothing homosexual about them at all

[bloodcoveredgf]

made another horror ask game because it was so fun the last few times!! enjoy <3

most recent horror movie you watched

most recent horror movie you watched and hated

most recent horror movie you watched and loved

actor(s)/actress(es) you Would love to see in a horror movie/more horror movies

a subgenre you would love to watch more of/see more movies being made in the subgenre

a horror movie you liked but wouldnt recommend to most people (give a reason if youd like to)

a horror movie you want to recommend to people

a horror movie you liked but will probably never rewatch (give a reason if youd like to)

a horror movie that you turned off before it was fully over (give a reason if youd like to)

a horror movie you wish you could watch again like its the first time

a horror movie/or horror movies you could rewatch the most times

a horror movie that stuck with you for weeks after you watched it (give a reason if youd like to)

a horror movie with the best soundtrack (or! your favorite horror movie soundtracks)

most memorable/your favorite horror movie trailer(s)

a horror movie/horror movies you wish you had in your collection

the first horror movie you saw that truly ignited your love for the genre

a decade you have seen the most horror movies from

a decade you want to watch more horror movies from

a horror movie you really love the use of practical gore effects in

creatures you wish were featured in more horror movies

a horror movie you like that a lot of people dislike

a horror character that actually creeps you out/scares you

the horror movie/horror movies from your favorite subgenre that got you into that subgenre

a horror movie that you love to/would love to watch with other people to see their reactions/etc

the best/your favorite horror movie plot twist

a horror movie you didnt expect to like but you did

an upcoming horror movie youre looking forward to watching

favorite teen slasher

favorite body horror

favorite 80s horror movie

favorite horror movie of all time <3

[raffaellopalandri]

Illegitimate Thought: Deleuze’s Ontology of Creative Rupture

In Difference and Repetition, Gilles Deleuze does not merely challenge the history of philosophy—he overturns its foundational presuppositions, initiating a project in which the very conditions of thinking are rethought from within a field of immanence and generativity. Among the constellation of incisive formulations that emerge throughout the work, none captures this insurgent ambition more…

[awanderingtortoise]

Severance music is incredible. The use of chromaticism in the chord progressions is a brilliant yet straightforward way of reflecting the sense of disorientation, mystery and dread that permeates the normalcy facade experienced both viewers and the characters in the show.

The left hand tempo is extremely stable and steady, but the RIGHT HAND chords are just constantly fucking with your head. Major. Lower the third. Minor now? Sudden, VIOLENT dissonance, as if the chord is trying to be major AND minor at the same time. But it doesn't progress into a 'sensical' dissonance, it will return to a standard chord and steady tempo without qualm. All in that placid, 'nothings happening here!' feel that the consistent left hand gives. One stable side, and another that completely refuses to confirm to normal harmonic identities. Sound familiar? In this essay I will

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

"I do love you, you know. And one day, yeah, I could totally see us getting married. But it's gotta come out of love, innit? Not... not grief. "Yeah. Yeah."

CARLA CONNOR & LISA SWAIN | CORONATION STREET

[chiarrara]

One of the most important things to practice in analyzing or even appreciating media is placing that media in the appropriate historical context.

For example, it is incredibly short-sighted to criticize Revolutionary Girl Utena for being formulaic and reusing animation sequences based on preferences and standards from the 2020s, but it's also incredibly short-sighted to only rebut that the repetitiveness is thematic when it was animated in 1997 and directed by a guy who worked on Sailor Moon.

[viiioca]

[ day 13 - competition ]

From a collection of letters found in the living quarters of Krile Baldesion during the Eureka expedition, dated around the third and fourth moons of the Seventh Astral Era.

Dear Mistress Krile,

As promised upon departing for Eorzea, I have written to you in what I believe anyone would agree is a timely fashion. The ferry ride was a firmly uneventful two weeks from Old Sharlayan to the grand port of Limsa Lominsa first, where I was not pickpocketed as Master Baldesion predicted, and I was able to arrange another ferry to the small port of Horizon on the coast of Thanalan. (Predictably, I'm in no hurry to return home, not merely because we've hardly scratched the surface as to what possible Allagan wonders we shall find during this expedition, but also because I'm not sure I could stomach another ocean voyage anytime in the next six moons.) I imagine there's little I could describe to you of Ul'dah and its surrounds that you have not already heard from your friend Minfilia, but you'll be disappointed to learn that the coffee she so extolls is essentially a very sweet mouthful of grit and sediment.

From northern Thanalan, I proceeded with a caravan en route through Revenant's Toll and finally arrived at the Son of Saint Coinach's digsite. What words could I possibly use to do the scale of this project justice? There are at least fivescore scholars here, experts and assistants alike in countless disciplines; a score of Ironworks engineers working tirelessly to maintain equipment and appraise the technological finds; a dozen stalwart adventurers hired on as guards and hunters; chocobo hands and their accompanying birds; administrators, cooks, medics…As if that were not enough, we are perched, almost quite literally, atop the ancient beating heart of Allag itself. As vast as these crystal-crusted ruins stretch, there are still more trapped underground, which one can catch a glimpse of from the top of these great canyons that have opened in the ground in the wake of the Seventh Umbral Calamity. "Dizzying" would be the understatement of the era. I have of course worked with Rammbroes previously (you'll recall that he was a great help with my thesis and in fact my appointment to this position is in no small part thanks to his personal investment), but I did not realize that he has called in Cid Garlond himself to lead the engineers on the task to assess and breach the Crystal Tower's defenses. Cid Garlond! One could hardly ask for a more capable mind for what is surely no simple job.

In fact, he has already devised an ingenious method for piercing the first layer of defenses. However, it requires a not insignificant amount of rare materials -- highly refined aethersand of four different elemental aspects, any pinch of which is worth nearly my full year's salary -- and we were already facing a disappointingly mundane roadblock of supply shortages. Rammbroes thus tasked me with following up on various supply leads. I hardly need to remind anyone that this is not the sort of work that I was appointed for, and would have been a task far better suited to one of the graduate students, but I agreed to do it regardless as entering the tower as soon as possible is a foremost priority and I would be foolish to delay it any further on account of my pride.

I had little trouble acquiring the aethersand we needed, but imagine my surprise to discover that Rammbroes apparently did not consider me up to the task, as he sent another to come and complete my work for me -- who turned out to be none other than the Champion of Eorzea herself. I did not expect such a meeting, but perhaps shouldn't have been surprised, as it seems that luminaries are often found in each other's orbits, and Cid Garlond was not only personally acquainted with her but considers her a close ally. Of course, I did not strictly require her help to obtain the final aspect of aethersand, and thought to make a game out of a task that was well beneath both of our stations. And because I know you've read that sentence with your brows knitted in your typical suspicion, I must reassure you that I comported myself with the utmost dignity, and I'm quite pleased that it seems we will have an exceedingly pleasant working relationship for the length of the expedition. She is much friendlier than I'd been given to understand from the (admittedly sparse) tales, and best of all, agreeable to all manner of conversation topics, not the least of which include firsthand accounts of her deeds. I would be remiss in my duties as a historian to pass up the opportunity to collect interviews from a primary source.

We are now in a period of brief downtime as we await Master Garlond's finishing touches. How are matters on the Isle of Val? How fare you and Master Baldesion? I recall him being particularly restless before I left, but I assumed it was related to my deployment on this expedition, as there was much friction between us when I made plain my certainty that the great arsenal of Eureka Orthos will be located beneath the Crystal Tower. Has his mood much improved? Give my regards to the cousins as well. This letter will arrive alone, but when I receive the next portion of my stipend, I shall send back a rather strong tea blend I discovered in Gridania that I believe you will enjoy.

Sincerely,

Raha

P.S. I'm also thrilled to inform you that "NOAH" was immediately accepted as a name for our survey party, and they most certainly did not "laugh me out of camp." In fact, the Champion of Eorzea said she found it charming. I eagerly await your apology.

P.P.S. Would it be possible to include with your reply a dictionary and grammar book for the Ishgardian language? Before you needle me about why I would possibly need them when I'm camped in the middle of nowhere, you should be well informed that there is a chirurgeon in camp now whose mother tongue is Ishgardian, and I thought that it might perhaps make her feel more comfortable among all of us Sharlayans. And no, I've already asked Rammbroes and he's roundly denied me a requisition form, citing "budget concerns" (which I believe to be imaginary). I would make the trip into Coerthas to purchase them myself, but I'm much needed in camp and would be missed if I were gone overlong.

[djevelbl]

CHAT. CHAT WHAT DO I DO

[lightandfellowship]

Truly we need a comeback of the KH2-style prologue. I want to boot up KH4 and the first seven hours of gameplay are you playing as some guy named Akihito from Accounting who's just trying to get through his work week as giant monsters attack the city. (He is secretly a character important to the plot).

[raffaellopalandri]

Book of the Day - Difference and Givenness

Today’s Book of the Day is Difference and Givenness, written by Levi Bryant in 2008 and published by Northwestern University Press. Levy R. Bryant is an American philosopher best known for his work in continental philosophy, particularly his engagements with ontology, metaphysics, and epistemology through the lenses of thinkers such as Deleuze, Badiou, Lacan, and Derrida. He has contributed…

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Terzo's hands are always cold. I...I put angst in it. Sorry ?

"Your hands are cold, Cardinal," Omega remarks as he helps the man down from a ladder in the Ministry's library. Terzo, gloveless for once, a heavy tome tucked under his arm, glances up at Omega in surprise, then down at where his hand rests in the ghoul's much larger one.

"Ah, yes, poor circulation and all that. I apologize if it bothers you ; I forgot my gloves in my room."

Terzo makes a move to retreat his hand, but Omega holds fast to it. Bother him ? How could the man's touch ever bother him ?

"Not at all, Cardinal. It was merely unexpected."

Terzo's lips quirk up in his trademark insolent grin.

"I am full of surprises. And I told you, it's Terzo."

"Terzo," Omega corrects himself with a hint of smile in his voice.

Though the man cannot see his face behind the mask and hood, he seems to catch Omega's amusement, mismatched eyes glistening with glee at being responsible for the ghoul's pleasant mood.

His hand squeezes Omega's, coolness seeping under the ghoul's skin like a brand.

"I am going to melt my way back into the Pit," Alpha complains, collar obscenely wide open, almost down to his belt, mask long since discarted. Practice is running late, and the suffocating weather is getting to everyone.

Omega can feel his uniform stick uncomfortably to him, even with a few buttons left open - far less than Alpha still. The quint's mask, though, remains on.

"You sure you don't wanna lose the head cooker, 'Megs ? If you get brain-fried, no one's strong enough to carry you back to your room, princess."

Omega huffs and half-heartedly growls at the mouthy fire ghoul.

"I'm fine. And you've carried me before, asshat."

With a snort, Alpha petulantly crosses his arms.

"Yeah, no, not lifting anything in that weather."

Their banter is interrupted by a mildly entertained Papa.

"Enough, enough you two. You do look a bit hot, dear Omega. Are you positive you are feeling alright ?"

There is concern under Terzo's amusement as he steps closer, brow furrowed under the papal paint. He looks majestic, embracing his still relatively new role like this, easily slipping into the authority of his title.

"I promise I am fine, Papa, it is simply a bit warm."

With a sceptical hum, Terzo reaches out to press a bare hand on the side of the quint's clamy neck, gloves forgone in such a weather.

Omega ever so slightly sags into the touch, hoping that his fellow ghouls won't pick up on it. It isn't only the blissful coolness of the man's palm that warrant such a reaction from Omega, but the ghoul is not ready to look too much into it.

"I've been told my hands are cold," Terzo smirks, sparkling eyes crinkling in the corners. "Is it helping ?"

Omega's voice catches in his throat.

"Yes, Papa."

It certainly does send a pleasant shiver down his spine.

"Good. And it's Terzo, for Lucifer's sake," the man huffs, ignoring Delta's grumble about also being cold to the touch.

When Terzo pulls away, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Omega mourns the contact, eyes straying to the man's hands longingly.

Terzo tastes divine, and Omega is nothing if not a creature of indulgence, licking into the man's mouth like a beast starved for more of this addictive flavor that is so intimately Terzo.

Omega wants to devour him whole.

He paws at the man, blindly gropping his hips, his waist, his shoulders, growling when Terzo is forced to pull away to take a shuddering breath in.

"I've been...wanting to do this...for so long," he pants, paint smudged around his mouth. Omega groans, enamored with the pink the confession brings to Terzo's ears.

If he's being honest, Omega saw it coming. Ever since he started losing the mask in front of him, Terzo had seemed incapable of not staring at the ghoul, eyes lingering on his lips any chance he got.

"Me too," the quint sighs, promptly molding their mouths together again. His tail wags helplessy when Terzo's hands start to roam, deftly unbuttoning his uniform after a pause to ensure Omega would let him. The ghoul burries his nose in Terzo's neck, inhaling his scent, grazing his teeth against the delicate skin.

Terzo pushes the uniform off his shoulders, eager. Omega yelps, back hitting the closed bedroom door.

"Shit, fuck, sorry, are you okay ?" Terzo mumbles, eyes searching, hands stilling where they're splayed over his chest.

"Yes, fine. Hands. Cold. Surprised me," Omega chuckles, pressing a soft kiss under Terzo's ear. The man hums.

"Do you want me to stop ?" he teases, still tortuously unmoving. Omega grunts, letting his lips peal back in a playful snarl, thick fangs scraping more insistantly against Terzo's neck.

"If you stop, I might bite, Terzo Emeritus," he warns. Unbothered, the man tangles his hand in Omega's hair.

"Oof, the governement name. Please do, my dear Omega, I fear that sounded more arousing than you planed it to."

Groaning, Omega presses his forehead to Terzo's.

"You're impossible."

A sparkling, hungry grin as hands start to explore once again.

"That I am."

It's late, and there isn't enough light in Terzo's bedroom to see much more than vague shapes, yet he still traces Omega's scars and tattoos with perfect accuracy, raising goosebumps on his skin.

"Ah, I forget," Terzo whispers in the dark, head resting on Omega's chest, "cold hands. You're shivering, my love."

The quint grabs Terzo's wrist before he can withdraw his hand.

"I don't mind, Terzo, you know it."

With a content sound, Terzo keeps going, fingers skimming over the burn on his side, the latin sentence on his hip, the stretch marks on his belly, touch light and reverent. Omega exhales a pleased sigh, tugging Terzo closer until he can kiss him slow and soft, gasping when another cool palm comes to hold his face with a tenderness that could make his ghoulish heart burst.

"How did I get so lucky ?" the quint whispers in what very little space he finds between the both of them. "You are a dream come true, love."

Terzo huffs, white eye stark against the general darkness.

"I'd argue I'm the lucky one, my dear Omega."

Those careful fingers glide over his features, leaving cold trails of worship, and Omega closes his eyes.

"Not like this. Not like this, please," Omega whispers, voice hoarse, clutching Terzo's hand. Even through the leather of the glove covering it, it's so cold.

With a sob, Omega bows his head, forehead thumping against marble.

"Please, Terzo, don't do this to me, please."

But there is no answer, and the hand in his is cold in a way that means something far too catastrophic for Omega's brain to wrap around it.

See, this is nowhere near the usual chill of Terzo's perpetually cool fingers, the gentle coldness of his palm teasing aginst Omega's skin. No, this is a frigidity that speaks of absence.

Absence of life.

On his knees before his lover's body, Omega finally understands that he never knew real cold before this moment.