#and coming to terms with himself both who he is and who he was

[cottonlemonade]

crush!Meian who you always see around the grocery store because you have a similar schedule. You go for a lot of the same items and the annoying chore of grocery shopping soon becomes his favorite day of the week.

crush!Meian who always hurries to the bread section for his favorite only to see you toss the last bag of it into your cart, shooting him a wide grin and peace sign.

hopeless crush!Meian who doesn’t remember how to be cool and suave when eventually he reaches the aisle at the same time as you and you both go for the last bread and he pulls back telling you to have it.

“Oh. Why?”, you asked in surprise.

Because you touched it first, he thought.

“Because I’m in love with you.”, he said.

new boyfriend!Meian who brings you every single ointment the pharmacy has to offer when you cut your finger during cooking. He lays out six different tubes and explains that they are for different stages of healing when you interrupt him with a kiss as Thank You.

new boyfriend!Meian who cannot and will not keep his hands to himself when you’re even somewhat close by. Your love handles and pudgy thighs are his absolute favorite.

long term boyfriend!Meian who can’t stop smiling when he watches you getting ready for a date or waiting for him on the couch after training, everything prepared to continue the show you’re both obsessed with and kiss the stress of the day away. He will 100% rest his head on your tummy while you play with his hair.

long term boyfriend!Meian who practices his proposal speech in front of the mirror several times, not realizing that the bathroom door has been open the whole time, and when he comes out, you tell him sweetly that version four was your favorite as you fix his tie.

newlywed husband!Meian who forgets everything to do with volleyball in the post-game interviews, because he is too busy scanning the crowd for you. In his honeymoon phase he is a PR nightmare because all he wants to talk about is his wife. Any excuse to bring up his wife. Ask him about his thoughts on his opponent and he will somehow mention his wife.

newlywed husband!Meian who was once asked, “What, in your opinion, is your greatest accomplishment to date?” and everything the captain could think of was, “My wife recently taught me how to air flip pancakes and I did it on the third try.”

a/n: I am watching Love Next Door and the ointment scene was too cute not to use!

[after-witch]

How a Minute Spends Now [Yandere Platonic L Lawliet x Sibling Reader]

Title: How a Minute Spends Now [Yandere Platonic L x Sibling Reader]

Synopsis: Your brother is dead. What pieces are there left to pick up?

Word count: 3800ish

notes: yandere, abusive sibling dynamic, grief and death mentions

Your brother is dead.

And oh, it’s clear now: whoever said death was an inevitable cold hard fact was a liar. Or stupid. Or both. Because this fact is not cold or hard; it’s warm, oozing, feeling like so much black sludge running between your fingers. 

You’ll never get it off--the death, yes, and the awful, sinking realization--

Your brother is dead and their first priority was not to tell you. 

They don’t bring you into a quiet room and ask you to sit down, before explaining in sympathetic, gentle tones that something bad has happened. That the brother who carried you through hell as a child, who kept you safe (and locked away) well into your thoroughly stunted adulthood, will never be coming back again. That you’ll never hear his voice or see his face or feel his touch. 

No. They don’t bother with you, first.

Their first priority is to gather together two of those damned groomed successors--Near and Mello, of course--and take them into a quiet room and explain, softly but succinctly, that L was dead.

That’s how you hear the news. You’d followed along, hackles raised when they were gathered up, and padded silently into the next room with a sourness in your stomach. And that’s how you hear it. With your ear pressed against the wall of the room next door, gleaning snatches of the conversation afterward through a horrible ringing in your ears.

(And aren’t you an awful thing? That you didn’t know until that moment? That you weren’t struck numb the moment he died thousands of miles away, that some guttural psychic primal instinct inside you didn’t say: Something is wrong and my brother is dead. Aren’t you a shitty person, that you didn’t somehow know without the muffled words through the wall?)

Mello is loudest. He cuts through that awful, disbelieving buzz that courses through you. 

“Who did he pick--”  And you don’t have to hear the rest to know what he’s asking. Did L pick him--or Near--as a replacement? As if he could be replaced. As if someone could simply step into his shadow and wear his skin.

“He didn’t have time,” answers Roger, and you puke a little bit of breakfast back into your mouth. 

What a thought--that L had been snuffed out without warning. Without time to think about it. Without time to regret, to come to terms--to call you. 

What was he thinking about, as he died? Was he thinking at all? Was there even the quickest of thoughts about you or your parents (distant, foggy beings that they were) or something else, something you would never know because your brother always kept some parts of him out of reach?

The wallpaper scratches underneath your fingernails, and a dim part of you wonders if they can hear it beyond the wall. Maybe you want them to hear you, hear the way your fingers dig into the paper and drag down as you slide onto the floor.

Your brother is dead, and you’re alone, and what the fuck was any of it for, if he was just going to get himself killed?

--

They do get you, eventually. Or rather, they find you, quiet and curled up in the corner of the room next door, a room you ought never to have been in. 

You don’t respond to the quiet calls of your name. You don’t respond when they step inside and Roger crouches down beside you, asking if--and he doesn’t finish the question, because he knows that asking someone “Are you all right?” when they are in a tight fetal position after clearly hearing news of their brother’s death through an orphanage wall is a stupid fucking question.

So all Roger does is put a hand on your shoulder and squeeze. It means nothing, and you get no comfort from it. No one here could comfort you. No one alive. 

“L left a letter for you,” Roger says, and it’s only now that you turn your head to look up at him. “Before he left for the Kira case.”

Kira. If only everyone who uttered that name had their tongue turned to ashes. 

“Give it to me,” you whisper.

--

It is his handwriting. Not a typed letter, which could be a forgery. No, this was written by his hand, his distinct scrawl. But what sealed the authenticity was that it was written in invisible ink, revealed through a solution only you had access to; L made it himself. Because he was smart--and a pompous asshole. 

But that’s how you know in the end that it’s not a fake, but a real letter. The last letter you’ll ever get from him. 

You bring the paper to your nose and sniff; it doesn’t smell like him. Maybe it did, at first, before whatever filing cabinet they’d stowed it in leached away the scent. Or maybe it smelled like him before you poured the solution on, and your anticipation to read what he said destroyed your last chance at remembering what he smelled like. 

It doesn’t matter.

The letter is simple and your hand trembles and the first words on the page hurt--tears drip down stupidly and turn blue when they hit the chemical solution on the paper. 

He’d make fun of you for crying, before wiping your tears with his shirt, so you’d call him gross and smile and feel a bit better. He would do that, if he were alive. But he can’t, because, as the letter says--

If you are reading this, I am dead. Kira has killed me. 

I was aware that this was a possibility--

Oh, fuck him. Fuck. Him. 

There is the urge to crumple the paper now. To find a fireplace and make someone light it and watch the paper burn, chemicals sparking, with satisfaction. How dare he. How dare he chase after this case, knowing it was a possibility, knowing that you might end up staring at this letter. Knowing that you’d be so utterly fucking alone. 

Breath coming in shallow pants, you keep going. 

I was aware that this was a possibility and I’ve prepared for it, as such. You don’t need to worry about money. It’s taken care of. You don’t need to worry about a place to live. It’s taken care of. 

You realize, dimly, that one of your hands has begun to pound against the wall. Who-cares-who-cares-who-cares. You don’t want to know that there’s money and a place to stay. 

What you want is your brother. 

You want him here so you can grab his shirt and tug him close and tell him he’s a massive asshole and you love him. You want him to tentatively wrap his arm around you, to give you a pat, to murmur something about being too clingy. 

You want him to suddenly pull your hair so you can stomp on his foot. You want to curl up in bed, like you used to, and wait for him to stroke your back to sleep while you asked him questions about anything and everything. His voice would be soft and dull, walking that fine line between patience and annoyance. You’d fall asleep while he told you something especially important, and he’d debate flicking your head to wake you up, a 50/50 chance that he’d do it.

But he can’t do any of these things. Not now. Not ever again. He has no voice to speak with, no body to touch. He has no more life in him at all. 

You couldn’t even visit his grave, assuming he had one. 

The tears are hot against your eyes as they drip-drop and stain the page now. It’s not fair, none of this. The death and the letter and the gray future ahead of you.

But you have to keep reading. Every word is precious, the last ones you’ll read from his hand. And maybe--this is awful, isn’t it--maybe this letter is where he finally has to admit that he’s been selfish. To keep you locked away, to put his need for control over your need to live a real life, to stay away as much as he does--as much as he did.

Maybe this letter is where he admits his faults as a brother, so you can cry over something other than the feeling of a gutted cave inside your chest. 

Maybe this is when he admits he’s kept you wrapped in a useless bubble, and that was wrong, and now you’ll get to--

I have given instructions that my successor will care for you like a brother.

The pounding on the wall stops. Thoughts come quick, snapping, punctuated by a red hot stings of electric hate. The bastard--how could he--why would he--the words don’t even seem to make sense, so you read them over and over and over, trying to understand. 

I have given instructions that my successor will care for you like a brother. I have given instructions that my successor will care for you like a brother. I have given instructions that my successor will care for you like a brother. I have given instructions that my successor will care for you like a brother.

But no matter how many times you read them, the words don’t register as anything but a jumble of phrases put together. He couldn’t have written that. But he did. Yet the very thought that someone else would care for you like a brother--

No. Your brother is dead, and no one can replace him. Not as the best detective in the world, not as your brother, not as anything. How could he, why would he, there’s no answer that comes so you let the questions singe the air instead. 

There’s a woozy, hazy fuzz that descends on your head like a net, and you lean against the wall. Red-hot anger simmers, bubbled with a hazy grief, as you force yourself to continue. 

I have left them detailed instructions on how to care for you. 

The words drop into your stomach hard, with no reprieve. He left instructions for your care, like you were a pet being looked after on a vacation. Fucker. You try to determine if it was a joke, or an intentional slight meant to irritate you, or not something he put any spite into at all. Was he being sincere? 

Because--well.

Is it entirely wrong? You and the figurative pampered dog both leapt to attention whenever your owners--whenever your brother--deigned to come home from vacation. From solving crimes. Both whined when he left. Both circled and moped, staring out the window, hoping for their return.

Not that there would be any return for L.

You will be safe and protected, as you were under me.

A hand goes to your mouth, covering a smile that no one else is here to see. Safe and protected, sure. Like a princess in a fairy tale, like some maiden kept under lock and key in a dragon-guarded keep. Only the dragon never breathed fire--only familiar platitudes and a comforting sameness that chained you down as well as the actual locks on the doors, the security cameras, the strict instructions for the security guard at the gate.

But you were safe, and you were protected. And here you are, now, wet tears on your cheeks, anger in your stomach and a smile on your face, because your brother apparently put you in his will like some sort of inheritance for whoever takes up his mantle. 

Please don’t do anything foolish now that I’m gone. Not that it stopped you, before.

A flash in your mind, the image of your brother’s smirk, curling up at the ends. A thumb in his mouth to soften it. 

It aches and it doesn’t, this image, the clear sense of L in these words. Why can’t he be here? Why this pain, this gouged sense of reality that makes you feel like screaming until there’s no more air in your lungs? 

Your hand finds the wall again, scratching at the paper with as much force as you can, rippled scratches following in their wake. 

Better the paper than your skin--your skin will heal. They’ll have to replace the wallpaper if they want to fix the jagged scratches. Let them replace it. Let them replace it like they want to replace your brother, and see where it gets them. You’ll be there in either case. 

There’s nothing more on the paper. You’re not sure if you expected there to be; you can’t imagine him writing soft, sweet words of comfort. He never said them, not exactly, so why write them now? No “I love you,” no “You’ll be fine without me.”

But, ah. There’s more to that, isn’t there? L would never write “You’ll be fine without me,” because he didn’t like to lie. 

And who is the successor that will receive these so-called instructions? He hasn’t chosen anyone. Roger, you’d heard, suggested Mello and Near work together. Fat chance. Like they would--like they could. 

They couldn’t, and they can’t, and they don’t. It isn’t long before Mello leaves and there’s one less orphan in the building, and Near steps in.

To be trained, to be raised, to study the Kira case--to take care of you, so says your dead brother in his last letter. 

But Near isn’t L. 

And you’re alone.

--

It is not terribly long after you become brotherless--and rudderless--that you walk into your room to find Near sitting on the floor, stacking rows of gray, pattern blocks that resemble a cityscape in the center of your private little space.

The sight of him is wrong. He looks--not like L, not in that way. But the posture. The outfit. If you squint--and you do--you can blur him into something like a younger version of your brother. Different hair, of course, but didn’t he sometimes sit like that when he played? When he refused to share his blocks, and made you watch him play, and occasionally deigned to let you place a piece or two as long as you put it exactly where he told you?

And you always did, little fingers trembling, because you wanted him to think you were good enough to listen. Good enough to do what he says, because he was older, and smarter, and you should listen to him. 

There’s a lump in your throat before you realize it.

”Why are you here?” Your own voice is a croak, rusted from ill-use. Crying. Shouting. Not talking for hours until you had to.

It’s not like you had too many people to talk to, anyway; but if you get him to talk, then this blurry vision will vanish. Near might look a bit like your brother, might have the same penchant for picking things apart, but he wasn’t L. Never would be, not really.

He doesn’t look up when you speak. Thank God for small mercies. Instead, he takes one finger and pushes it in the center of a block tower, creating a window. 

“Roger said you were upset.”

The temptation to blur vanishes with the sound of his young and decidedly not-L voice, and it’s easier to cross your arms, to put up the defenses. 

“Obviously.” A little less dry now. A little more sarcastic. And a little more alive than you’ve sounded in weeks, or months, or however long it’s been since your brother ceased existing and your life at Wammy’s became all the more bleak. “My brother died.” 

Near’s eyes finally flick up to you before they dart back down to the blocks. He carefully slips a block figure--a bland smiling thing--into the window. 

He speaks softly, with little intonation. You hate how familiar it is. 

“That is, upset about me.” 

The sound of your stupid little intake breath in the quiet room is a little too much to bear, and you try to focus on the sound of the blocks instead. The small shift of the pieces as he slides them here and there, the clacking sound as they stack together. 

Click. Clack. 

What does Roger know, anyway? 

“Not about you… in particular,” you admit. It’s the most you’ve admitted to Near in--well. Ever. It’s not like you were eager to talk to many of the children at Wammy’s, especially when you outgrew them. Yet unlike the orphaned faces that faded from memory in time, you weren’t adopted, weren’t eased into some other life outside these walls; instead, L kept you here, guarded, safe, and completely stuck. 

And you are stuck. You’re an adult. You could’ve stormed out the doors the minute L died, you’re sure, legally speaking (before that--even--before that you could’ve left); started walking and taken up a job at some shitty diner and rented a room in a seedy motel until you were on your feet. 

It’s something that you’d threatened in L’s face from time to time, and he didn’t even deign to take you seriously, and it’s only now that he’s dead that you understand why.

He knew you wouldn’t leave. Couldn’t leave? Maybe it’s the same thing. Because he was right. There’s no life for you out there; no life for you in here, except for what L left you, which includes--somehow--this boy in front of you, stacking blocks, who is supposed to take up the position of older brother. In capturing Kira and everything else.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he says, all matter-of-fact. “L left instructions.” 

Your chest squeezes. Those fucking instructions. You had asked--stormed up in a huff, demanded, in a tantrum--Roger to read them, and he refused. Said L indicated the letter was for his successor’s eyes only. 

So all you had was your imagination; did L write down a list of things you liked, things you didn’t like? Did he rattle off your favorite foods, what time you were supposed to go to bed, what to do if you had a meltdown and began to cry over your social isolation? Or did he--the thought was tempting, however improbable it was--write something more sentimental? 

Logic and bitterness win out, and you imagine Near reading the details of the letter meticulously, probably looking for the words-within-the-words, all while flying an airplane with his other hand. 

“I’m not a dog.” Your eyes dart over the blocks, over the memory of all the toys you’ve seen Near playing with; there’s something painful in that image, for too many reasons. “Or a toy.”

“Yes, I know.”

Near doesn’t look up again. Instead, he flicks his hand, and knocks over the tower with the window, with the smiling person inside, who topples to your carpeted floor. Something about it makes you want to laugh; makes you want to get on the floor and ask if you can push over the next one. Tears prick at the edge of your eyes. 

Instead of swooping onto the floor, you weave around the circular city he’s created in your room without permission, and climb onto your bed. The book you were reading this morning is still there, ragged bookmark jutting out of it. Your bed is unmade, otherwise. Sheets rumpled and unwashed. You haven’t bothered with the bed since L died. Haven’t bothered with a lot of things, besides. 

It was an older book. A philosophical treatise from the 1930s, when Europe was on the cusp of war; translated into English and shuffled around the hands of starving artists and avant garde thinkers until, decades later, it landed, battered, onto the shelves of the orphanage for gifted children. Gifted children and you, L’s leftover baggage.

Well. If Near is going to barge into your room without permission, you won’t let it impact your day. Roger said if you didn’t start eating again, you couldn’t borrow books; that’s where you’d been, before you came back. Grabbing something to eat under his watchful eye and eating it with deliberately pointed chewing motions, as if it bothered him.  

So you’ve eaten. Now you can read. 

“What are you reading?” He asks, like he didn’t already see the title of the book. He probably saw it on your bed whenever he first came into your room. Probably knows exactly where it rests in the Wammy library when it’s not checked out, and who else has read it besides you.

But he’s asking anyway and something empty in you clings to that question, as you curl up on your side--body and soul aching for the physical curled-up nest of your brother that doesn’t exist anymore.

You hold up the cover and shrug, hiding the need, pushing down the urge to bury your face in your pillow and have an imaginary conversation with your dead brother.  It wouldn’t be the first one you’ve had this week.

Near’s eyes flick to the book, before he works on creating another tower. 

“Do you like it?”

Your heart clenches. You’re reading into it, the way it reminds you of L. The way the question is open and you can’t tell if it’s asked because he thinks the book is pointless trash and will find you silly if you like it, or because he genuinely wants to know. 

It’s not a book you’d read again, that’s certain. Not because you think it’s awful, but because none of it really makes sense to you. You’d grabbed it because the thought of reading a novel you’d been eager to read while your brother’s corpse was buried thousands of miles away made you want to vomit. So a random philosophy book was the better option. 

You don’t want to tell Near all of this; because of his age, because he’s little more than someone you know, and because like your brother, you want to keep some things secret. 

“I don’t understand most of it,” you admit, finally, the words sticking to your mouth a little. A bit of truth would be okay, in the end. “I just wanted to occupy my time, I guess.” Reading words from someone who furiously pushed them out on his typewriter almost a hundred years ago was better than thinking about who wasn’t in the room. 

Near smiles, a little, not looking away from the blocks. 

“Do you want to help?”

He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, picking up each piece carefully and stacking it just-so. He leaves the toppled tower, figure and all, where it is. 

You’re not sure how long you wait before deciding.  All you know is that in your isolated room at Wammy’s, with only a window to the outside world you’ve barely known to give you any inkling of the passing of days, you slide onto the floor and tentatively pick up one of the toppled blocks.

Near doesn’t tell you to leave those where they are, and that’s okay.

He doesn’t tell you where to put it, either, as L would have certainly done--and somehow, that’s okay, too. 

[milunalupin]

— someone you loved

regulus black x potter!reader ★ 1k words

You had lost yet another game of Exploding Snap to your older brother, who always celebrated by throwing the cards like confetti all over the living room and telling you to clean up. He'd never admit it, but you knew he would charm only your cards to explode.

"You're a prat, you know that Jamie?" you huffed as he ignored you and skipped up to his room, leaving you to crawl around to clean up his mess. Most nights were spent like this during the summer between terms, with either yours or your brother's friends joining you regularly.

As you were picking up the last card, a cloud of green smoke blew from the fireplace, Sirius Black landing onto the carpet. You would of thought he was dead if it wasn't for his twitching body gasping for air. You stood on shaky legs as you screamed for your brother, eyes unable to leave the bleeding body before you.

In seconds James was down the stairs, pushing you out of the way to get to his best friend, shaking his bruised shoulder with tears in his eyes. Your parents come down just after him, your mother helping tend to Sirius while your father went into the kitchen to make the boy something to eat.

Your blurred vision went back to the fireplace. You knew what went on at 12 Grimmauld Place, James and Sirius had told you. He had told you, in nonchalance as if it was something that happened in every family. The abuse, both verbal and physical. The constant pressure to live up to the impossible expectations of The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.

"Y/N what are you doing, help him!" your brother screamed at you, his voice raw from crying as he held Sirius' head in his lap, his own hot tears running down his pale face.

"Where's Regulus?"

James stared at you in bewilderment. How could you think of Regulus when his best friend could be dying in his arms right now? His eyes shot back down as Sirius whimpered in pain as his mother applied a healing tonic to a particularly sensitive area on his leg.

"Sirius, where's Regulus?" your voice came out desperate, taking cautious steps towards the elder Black.

"Are you stupid Y/N? Sirius needs help!"

Your mother quietly scolds him as you held the older Black's gaze. His sad eyes told you everything you needed to know. Regulus Black was not coming to Godric's Hollow that night.

The start of fourth year was different. Sirius had moved into your house, so he and your brother were closer than ever. There was a time that the two of you were just as close as James and Sirius, when it was easier to sneak to the furthest corner of the library to do each other's homework and share poetry. You were each other's best friends, and a much needed escape from your siblings. Some days it even felt there was more than friendship between the two of you. But Regulus has begun distancing himself over the past few years, and now it was like he never existed.

Something terrible had happened that night. Regulus won't dare look over at you, and James had even forbidden you from speaking of him, especially whenever Sirius was around. No one was telling you anything and it was starting to get on your nerves.

The annual sorting ceremony had come to an end, everyone digging into the delicious feast the elves had prepared. You however, could only push the food around your plate as you stared at the Slytherin table, your brows pinched together. You had noticed that they had begun missing classes as a group, slowly pulling away from the rest of the students. As soon as you saw your old friend get up and walk out of the Great Hall, you too dismissed yourself from the table and rushed to follow him.

He must've known you were trying to speak to him, picking up the pace and making quick turns into empty corridors. You huffed and hurried to catch up, finally reaching him and tugging on the sleeve of his robe so he'd turn around. Although you two were no longer in contact, Regulus had never acted negatively towards you in class, which gave you hope that at least a friendship was still possible.

"Reggie, hey."

His eyes narrowed at you, his fists tightening around the strap of his bookbag. You sigh, tongue in cheek as you looked him over.

"I just want to understand what's going on Regulus, you know you can trust me."

"Trust you? You left me when I needed you the most, you and Sirius. I don't know what I went thinking when we met on the train years ago, keeping you close. Sirius was always better in every way, I know that. I'll never be enough for him, for my family, for you... and I'm tired. But I can't just live on being his replacement, second best. I can prove I am worthy of more, and I can't do that with people like you hanging around."

"Reg, you've never been second best to me. Can we please just have a civil conversation about this? You're my best friend and I love–"

"Sod off, Potter." he spat. "And Salazar, stop with the tears, you're not a child. I don't want anything to do with you, try to get that through your thick skull."

"Fuck you Regulus Black."

You turned and left for your room, your eyes stinging as you pressed the heel of your palms into them, trying to stop the tears from escaping. No amount of curses and hexes could hurt him as much as it did you watch you cry because of him and walk away for the last time.

Once in the privacy of his own room, Regulus curled up in bed with hot tears running down his face. The moving picture of you two in first year stayed tucked into his pillowcase where it's always been, because nothing could keep his nightmares away but you.

[nostalgiaclown]

Hey do you think there's a deeper meaning or reason Spite looks just like Lucanis...

There's the scene by the fireplace and I picked up on how Lucanis closes his eyes as he turns his head to avoid looking at Spite...

It's like looking in a mirror, right, and your reflection is staring back as you deliberately hurt yourself with your words.

Lucanis, I think, is stuck in a cycle of 'It’s all I know.' 'It's what I'm good at.' But there's cracks there that hint this isn't who he wants to be...

"Death is my calling."

I don't think he actually believes that, but he has to tell himself that, right?

I don't think he's ever been given the chance to explore who he wants to be, he's just been told this is who he is...

Demons are bound when you 'tell' them what they are so loudly that it's all they can hear. They have to be what you want." But a spirit who evolves to become more of a "real person" is less malleable than a spirit and if they have the certainty of who they are and who they desire to be, they can resist binding entirely.

Did someone else bind the spirit to him by force? Corrupt its nature so fit the needs of the user?

If Spite was originally Love (as I've seen some people comment Love being the opposite of Spite) and they were forcibly bound to Lucanis for whatever reason, did that cause Love to twist into Spite?

I think we're going to have to heal both Lucanis and Spite from whatever grief or trauma they've been through, make him come to terms and accept whatever fucked up thing happened, so it sticks, and he stops just "wiping the slate clean".

He comes across to me as a guy who's just like going through the motions, and needs more of a push to change, for himself.

Nevertheless, it is not unheard of for spirits to evolve and become more "human" by coming to terms with grief, heal from being emotionally hurt, and thus be able to learn from what they endured. By coming to terms with grief, a spirit is able to grow as a person and not "wash clean" like a spirit."

Then I was reading up on spirit healers, and again, there's that same theme of trust here, the spirit trusting the 'mage' and also the loss of trust when being tricked by a benevolent spirit...

To gain the services of such benevolent and righteous beings requires that the mage earn their trust. Often this requires a series of trials to prove that the mage's goals are as noble as the spirit demands, though some mages have claimed to command the compliance of such spirits through sheer force of charisma.

So if Spite was Love, imagine if the trust was broken from the get-go, by whoever brought them over from the fade, that surely would cause Love to twist into Spite?

More than one tale exists of a spirit healer being fooled by a demon masquerading as a benevolent spirit, and inadvertently bringing them across the Veil... or being tricked into letting down their guard, and possessed.

On the flip side, Lucanis is not a mage(?) but if he needed help or something idk- and he was tricked and possessed that way - tricked by 'Love'? Owch, the loss of trust there...

Oh and if Spite just a spirit of Love that was corrupted by Lucanis' own feelings? Like how Justice twisted into Vengeance(?)

We know Lucanis is relearning how to trust, and he's a romantic.

How can you trust others If you don't trust yourself? Spite feels like intrusive thoughts made manifest... And how can you Love others if you have no Love left for yourself? Spite seems to be chipping away at Lucanis slowly... he looks so tired.

What exactly happened to him, I wonder, I can't wait to find out cause it's gonna hurt...

[eliza-forget]

PLEASE tell us more about your Leshy and the two cats!!!!! The cats are so pretty and also so is your art. I love your art so so so so so much 💖

Well, I'll start by saying that the Leshy himself in my AU is quite dark, violent, and traumatized. He survived the sudden betrayal of Narinder (as the one he trusted and looked up to most as a child), he survived all the turmoil associated with the fact that faith in the bishops was shaken, I call this period as "shaky", and the whole four were on the verge of losing their authority. And already during the game's storyline, Lamb's campaigns, Heket died. In my Au, which is mostly based on my insane playthrough of the game, Leshy was the last Bishop to be killed by Lamb. I mean, there was this sequence: Heket> Shamura> Kallamar. I have that point actually explained in the storyline, but that's not what the main question is about xd.

In the works, where you see him in the clothes of a follower (yes-yes that red one), has its own meaning. It's like a sign of his acceptance of a new way of life and to some extent, a rejection of the past. In this story, he's processing his traumas, learning the ways and lives of mortals, and then he makes two close friends: those two cats.

In general, I can characterize my Leshy as a personality. He changes slowly, but throughout the narrative in my Au. Leshy is still the Bishop of Chaos, in terms of character, but has softened a bit because of his environment in which he resides.

Tirena

Let me briefly tell you about Tirena's storyline. Her parents were nomads who came from other lands to the lands of the Old Faith. They mostly moved between locations, but eventually stopped at Darkwood.In fact, Tirena's family was loyal to what was happening in the lands and tried to please all the local cruel rules. The turning point of the plot for Tirena came at the time of her coming of age, for which her parents sacrificed themselves to the bishop, and she was given a necklace (but not the one she wears now) in memory of her parents. As a result of which she ran away from the place. Stumbled upon Lamb by accident, from behind a campfire in the night. So in the story, she showed up in his settlement and became a devoted disciple in the future, but still with an unconcealed grudge against the bishops.

In comic, she got into an altercation with Narinder on the same topic.

Yolk (yellow cat)

Yolk's former name was Najulmer, and he changed his name at the settlement. His parents were the same cultists who, long after Leshy's death, continued the resistance. Yolk did not share the same point of view with them; he was more interested in studying the world around him, and specifically its strange inhabitants. So he set out on his wanderings in search of that "paradise" by which he meant the Lamb's settlement. Along the way meeting various companions, studying monsters and even cooking with them. He has already been rescued by Lamb when he was trapped by the treachery of his recent companion. In the settlement he quickly finds contact with Tirena, or rather she has to tolerate his intrusive company. Then Lamb returns from a camping trip and summons Leshy from purgatory and he becomes both a nightmare for Yolk, but and an intriguing object of study. He btw yes, never once saw the bishops and didn't even know that Leshy was one.

Somehow that's what the plot of these three sounds like. I hope it was interesting and informative to learn about them!

[lukolabrainrot]

Calm theory anon!!! So glad we got a break yesterday with a calm day. I did see a couple things I want to talk about though. One of those things is this thought that the reason why Luke and Nicola aren't currently dating is due to Luke. And the other thing I want to discuss is the shipping Nic with every single man she is standing next too. Nic and Luke are both flawed human beings. They are not perfect. They make mistakes and sometimes they even hurt people (by accident). I say this I see so much hate speech directed at Luke as if he the one that said Nicola wasn't good enough. Let's look at what we know. We know they spent 5 years getting close and playing a couple that's in love. Five years is a long time to be in a character world. Then in their season they had to do something they were terrified of which is those love scenes. In order for those scenes to look real their bond had to get even stronger. Nic has said that Luke was protective and went out of his way to make her comfortable even though he himself was almost nude. So it's understandable after so many years they wouldn't understand if what they were feeling was their actual feelings or their characters. It was smart of them to take a break from each other. They are friends at the end of the day. They would never put their friendship on the line for confused feelings. Now Luke being blamed let's be honest. They both have experiences in love correct. And those experiences shape our thinking. We know Luke was in a serious long term relationship and I'm sure he has some scars from that relationship. Just as a I'm sure Nic has some scars as well. Hell she even said herself she was a cynic about love that the show has help her a bit. Both of them have work to do but my point is while the fans blame Luke how do we know they didn't make a decision to hold off until they knew what they felt was real feelings? They are putting their friendship on the line , and they work together. This a serious commitment that if they had a fall out comes with so many consequences. I personally think they are soul mates. And I think they know that. they either have more growing to do or they are trying offline. I truly believe everyone that comes into your life is either meant to be or a lesson. Nic has given us a lot of hints lately and people love it. The issue is she can't stand next to a man without shipping her with them. And that's why she trolled us with her post to her friend Dylan. She telling us to calm down. She will come out with who she dating it's inevitable. She wont be able to hide forever not with her fame. We myself included need to remember these are actual people. That are flawed and not perfect. They will figure it out or maybe they already have. We will know when they are stronger to deal with the masses.

I've talked about this a lot on my page, no notes!

[merryslilhobbit]

There are so many things about the Daniel Ricciardo situation that frustrate and anger me, so I'm getting them off my chest before I lose the plot. I'm sure other people have said the same things, but here we go.

Horner made a whole big show of picking Daniel up after the McLaren debacle, bringing him back into "the family". Made himself out to be some sort of saviour. Rebuilding Daniel's confidence, his physical and mental health. Got a dig in at Zak in a press conference about "feeding Daniel up" because he was skinny. Invited DTS to see his return at Silverstone 2023. So to kick Daniel to the curb just a few races before the end of the season? Because they have "a lot of data on Daniel" and need to see other options for the future? Hypocritical c*nt.

Next, replacing him with someone they're not confident enough in to give a contract to straight away? Yes, Liam did a good job in Daniel's absence last year. This is absolutely not me shitting on Liam - I like him, and I think he and Yuki will be good teammates. But he's been out of full time racing for a while. Allegedly RB weren't overly excited about his testing times in the summer. While it will be interesting to see how he compares to Yuki, why are RB hanging onto Liam when they don't seem confident enough to give him a full time seat? Why are they so determined to keep pushing this one? (Yes I know the answer is probably contracts, but still.)

Then there's the fact that Daniel has actually outperformed Yuki in 6 of the last 9 races (since the start of the European leg). In the same period, they've scored the same number of points. Daniel has also been more consistent in his finishing position than Yuki. In terms of form, Singapore excluded (but I think we can forgive him that one, given the media shitstorm), he's been the better of the two and isn't it meant to be that the first person you need to beat is your teammate? There's only so much you can achieve in a tractor.

And we can't forget the Checo situation. Following the first six races he's bombed in comparison to Max. He's probably cost Red Bull the Constructors'. He was given a few races to improve, didn't and then was kept anyway (probably because of money and the Mexican GP). He often qualifies further behind (in time) Max than Daniel does Yuki. I know Red Bull are coming out now and saying they found a problem with their design from Barcelona last year, when Checo first started reporting issues but frankly I'm calling bullshit on that. As mentioned, Checo had six very good races and results at the start of 2024. And some decent ones at the end of 2023. At one point there was speculation that Daniel might even replace Checo mid-season (some reports say it was a done deal), so in the space of a few weeks to go from that to being dropped himself? I have whiplash.

And I think that's the hardest part. A lot of people were probably aware that it could be difficult for Daniel to get a seat for next year. But at no point was there any suggestion that he might get replaced mid-season. Not even in the middle, six races before the end. When Red Bull confirmed in the summer break that both Checo and Daniel would see out the seasons in their current seats.

Red Bull have created an absolute PR disaster and they deserve it. Driver of the Day, amongst many other things in the last 48 hours, reflects the love and respect so many people have for Daniel. People who see how emotional he was, who see that he didn't have an opportunity to say goodbye properly (fuck, even McLaren did that - remember the Monza 2021 photo on his steering wheel?). People who recognise that dumping him so close to the end of the season is ridiculous.

In the end, I hope that Daniel really is at peace with it all and is in better shape than he left McLaren; that he can be proud of all of his achievements in the sport. Drivers come and go, but very few make their mark in the way Daniel has done. He may not have broken records or won championships, but the fact that he will still be remembered for a very long time despite those things is a testament to his character, to the sort of person we all know and love.

[lightandfellowship]

I do think that Eraqus' haircut, along with creating narrative symmetry with Xehanort's haircut, is meant to visually convey that Eraqus has gotten more serious about his responsibilities as a Keyblade wielder.

Before, his hair was long, a little messy, and more in-his-face. You get the impression that he probably just grabs a handful of hair, puts it into a quick ponytail, and doesn't do much else with it. In addition, I could see his long bangs potentially getting in the way while he's fighting, obscuring his eyes. But for someone who's characterized as a slacker who likes to do things at the last minute, it would make sense that he wouldn't think about that all too much, nor seek a solution in a timely manner.

After his haircut, his bangs are much shorter, and less likely to get in his eyes, I feel. It also looks like his hair has been trimmed all around, since his ponytail and the hair on the back of his neck look a tad shorter, too.

This to me reads as him putting more effort into his appearance, both in terms of presentation and functionality. He's a Keyblade Master now, and not just that but Odin's heir too, and with that new responsibility comes an obligation to direct more effort into everything he does, even the things that don't seem super important in the grand scheme of things, like how he looks.

Interestingly though, even with this more intentional haircut, there's still some notable oddities in his hair. His bangs aren't symmetrical at all, with one being much longer than the other. And there's almost a choppy look to it. It wouldn't surprise me if he cut his hair himself, maybe to emphasize all the more that he's taking responsibility now, and isn't relying on others to do things for him.

Note: it should go without saying that in real life, how one chooses to style their hair doesn't always reflect some element of their personality. In character design, however, it usually does, especially when accompanied by a character arc or timeskip, so this analysis is from that perspective.

[pingu-4]

I've seen a lot of raven!Neil fics where neil helps jean and Kevin escape form ravens and he escapes with them/joins them later.

But what I really need to see is a fic from jean's and kevin's pov, where they escape but Neil is stuck being a raven, stuck being nathaniel.

I want to see them join foxes but still think about what is happening with Neil right now, what punishments he is getting for their escape. I want to see them scared for his well-being, while not being able to patch him up or do anything. I want to see them trying to heal, being full of guilt at the same time, because Neil, their ally, their savior, their brother is probably going through hell because of them right now and he's all alone. I want to see them guilty, because Neil has helped them so many times, he had saved them and they left him there to suffer, even though they know that if they even tried to come back to nest Neil would kill them himself.

I want to see Jean mourning his partner forever. I want to see him turining around expecting Neil to be there only to see empty spot next to him. I want to see him grabing car keys to go back to nest, to Neil, when loneliness, guilt, fear, everything is too much, only to be stopped by Kevin from doing anything stupid, from going back to their abusers. I want him trying to keep up on living, only because Neil gave up on his freedom, his life for it. I want Jean to miss his little British devil, while literally anything reminds him of neil.

I want Kevin getting himself drunk only not to think about about what it cost for him to be at foxes, not to think about who pays for it, who he had left behind. I want him to wonder why Neil sacrifaced himself for him, he understands why Neil did it for jean, but him? What did he do to deserve it? I want him to feel guilty he didn't help Neil more, to wonder why he didn't do anything when he had the chance, wonder if he would be brave enough to do anything different if he had a chance to. I want Kevin to miss this loud mouth who gave him a chance of better life.

I want them both to live with a ghost of Neil among them. To talk about him, what would he do in any situation, what they remember about him even though it causes them pain and they are trying to move on, because they are too afraid to forget about him. I want them to wonder why they didn't manage to force him to go with them. I want to see them hoping to see Neil every morning when they wake up, only to be met with harsh reality. To think every short red-head might be him. To have so many feeling when they get that one phone call from Neil. To wonder if there is any way that they can help him. I want to see them as puzzles with one piece missing, learning to live that way.

I want to see the foxes wondering who that raven jean and Kevin often talk about is. To wonder who is that guy that they never met, that had such a big impact and is so important to these two broken boys. I want foxes to see Kevin and jean and just know that they lost something, that even though they escaped and are healing, they are still grieving someone. I want them to hear stories that involve that third person, that "neil" but never getting a direct answer as to who exactly he is and what happened to him.

I want Jean and Kevin hearing the news that "nathaniel wesninski" got injured in some freaky incident and them knowing it wasn't and incident. I want them to be terryfied of what riko did to Neil. Or being even more terryfied of what if it was Neil that did something to himself. They know he is strong, stronger then them both, but what if when he is all alone, facing hell, without any support, without anyone who he has to fight for he finally gave up and decided to die on his own terms?

I want them to see other news, that he had died from these injures, and just break down not believing that Neil, their Neil is gone. Is gone and they weren't there for him in his last moment. I want Kevin and jean to wonder if he knew how much he mattered to them, to wonder if they had said it to him, made it aware to him enough times. I want them to suffer because they promised that all of them will escape one day, but while Kevin and Jean are foxes now, Neil forever will be stuck a raven, forever will be remembered as nathaniel wesninski by most people, will never be able to make Neil a real person for someone else then the three of them. I want them to think about how the one person who saved their lifes, gave them a reason to live, died himself and they didn't do anything to prevent it, didn't manage to stop it. I want them to finally spill all the truth to the foxes. To see Jean and kevin learning to live with all of it, trying to live to their fullest, maybe even dedicating their games to Neil. For them, to do it for themselves. And for Neil.

Or i want them to finally have enough, realizing that this is the last moment where they can do something to help, when they hear about the injury. To see them somehow getting Neil out and seeing how much more he is hurt, mentally and physically than he was the last time they saw him, but still being the same old neil. Being happy that he finally is with them but also sad seeing him in that state. I want them to get Neil into foxes, not wanting to leave him, worried, being very protective of him and helping him heal too. Making neil josten real. To have foxes to finally meet that Neil they heard about and being surprised to see how Kevin and jean, not very warm or open people are so fond of him, how they act so different towards him, how they finally are the way they were supposed to be. Together.

[theawkwardterrier]

WIP Sunday

Tagged so very kindly by my wonderful meme bestie @lavellenchanted 🥰🥰 Here's a bit of the OL fic that I've been working on and that I'm mad about working on!

“Now that we’ve established my credentials, are you comfortable removing your shirt, soldier?” she asks, finding it easy to fall into the manner of address that saw her so well through the war. He lifts an eyebrow at the term, but doesn’t comment. “Aye, I trust my tender self to yer ministrations, Mistress, if that’s what ye mean. But I might need a bit o’ help with my shirt.” His good hand gestures to his opposite shoulder, and his smile is fading along with the light which had entered his eyes. There are plenty of patients she’s had who would have done better with a response that was stern and reminded him that he didn’t need mollycoddling, or with joking about to chivvy him from the mood he was sinking into. But some instinct, beyond the knowledge that she has built from experience, makes her do something else entirely. “Take your time,” she says gently. “I’ll help where it’s needed.” He does manage to bare himself most of the way, and not altogether terribly slowly. The trouble comes, as they both knew it would, with his injured arm. His mobility is such that he cannot twist his arm to reach up and remove that sleeve; perhaps at night he shakes it off, or has a comrade who will help him, but he doesn’t seem interested in putting himself on display in that way, and she doesn’t want him to. Instead, as he stops with the shirt draped over half his body, she makes her way around him, making certain that he can hear her movements, that she touches him gently along the back of his neck first so he can sense where she will be aiming next since she isn’t certain whether he has full feeling in his shoulder and doesn’t want to startle him. She doesn’t say anything as she eases the sleeve away from his skin, no small talk or even evaluatory questions, nothing about his shoulder or the deep scarring that she finds across his back. Jamie, however, speaks without her having to ask. It’s a terrible story, despite the calm with which he tells it: a Redcoat captain, an attack on Jamie’s sister, a crowd which watched him being viciously whipped for crimes that he hadn’t committed — including his father, who died thinking that his son had died first, and in such pain. During the war, she saw other nurses grow attached to patients, staying at a certain bedside hours after their shift had ended, singing a favorite song to dull the pain, even placing a kiss on lips breathing their last. Nothing close ever happened to her; not, she thinks now, necessarily because of Frank, but because she was better able to wall herself off and keep from true connection with the soldiers and partisans and innocent civilians who she treated…or maybe because none of them was the right one. For a barely-breathing moment, she can imagine bending and laying her cheek against the scars, letting him know that while she might have not been there to heal him then, she is here now. Beneath layers of fabric and padding, her stomach rumbles — only hunger, to be certain, signaling the hours since she finished the last of Nan’s bannocks in the cart, but a reminder of the care that she needs to take now. No foolish mistakes, not when she isn’t only protecting herself. “And how did this come about?” she asks, placing a delicate finger on the raised arch of his shoulder joint. As much as she is striving to bring herself back to that vaunted professionalism, her voice is still soft.

Tagging my buds @flyinghome-againstthewind, @smashing-teacups, @frasers-of-my-heart, and @doctorhelena, plus anyone else who wants to share some WIP fun!

[azrielgreen]

✨PRISM Q&A✨

-Answering all built up ANONs and DMs about ✨PRISM✨ thanks for all the love, support and enthusiasm to each asker!

Q: Building on the topic someone else asked about how prism Eddie would be if he and Steve had kids… you said he would ultimately love them and be fiercely protective of them because they are an extension of Steve (and himself), and I do see that happening but im also thinking of another possibility: Eddie is definitely (and I think you two both said so?) a Narcissist, so from real life scenarios, I’m wondering if he would-and let’s pretend Steve could carry children in this hypothetical-like the lead up to having kids (aka Steve’s pregnancy and planning ahead), but when the baby arrives, would find himself being rather annoyed by Steve’s shift in devotion to someone else, even if that someone is their kid. I know he does not exclusively have narcissism so there are other factors, but I could see how Steve shifting his focus to their kid could act as an-unexpected or not-conflict for him. I also do wonder if the more realistic scenario of adoption would change things, as they wouldn’t be as connected-genetics wise-to Steve…. Hopefully this makes sense also I’m so excited for prism to come back next month!!!

A: I’m genuinely obsessed with how many people want to discuss an Omegaverse!Prism AU, it blows my mind! So, yeah building on the aforementioned answer, I don’t believe there would be any conflict in terms of Steve’s attention. Eddie likes that Steve has the kids, Robin, etc… he see himself as very generous and does have his own life to tend to, so there would be a decent balance. What he wouldn’t like is if Steve tried to leave and take the kids, if someone ELSE tried to interfere with his parenting or turn the child against him. Prism Eddie has narcissistic traits, absolutely, but that’s not his full disorder, or certainly not his main one. Adoption would be much the same, Eddie loves the idea of building a family/found family and creating a little village (cult-like commune) for their chosen few. It wouldn’t be that different from Steve being pregnant and creating kids of their own DNA. Eddie can sway anyone, look at Will. All that being said, I think Eddie WOULD struggle with clashing with Steve over parenting ideology. Eddie is obsessed with creating a family around him and the person he loves and he’ll do it one way or another, as we will see a fair amount of in Part Three. Ultimately, Eddie saw very clearly a lot of the mistakes Billy made in isolating Steve and told himself he wouldn’t make those same mistakes (even if sometimes he DOES, just in different ways) so no, I don’t think he would be resentful of Steve’s focus onto their children. Eddie has no North without Steve. If Steve loves something, so Eddie feels like he loves it too, i.e. Robin. There’s a degree of nuance about the things Eddie himself loves and how he loves them, and the majority of it revolves around Steve so in a way, Eddie would follow Steve’s lead a great deal with the kids and respect the path HE carves.

Q: This is spoiler territory so I get it if you can’t answer, but will Steve ever be made aware in some capacity of the type of person Eddie is- like what he’s done and how manipulative he has been throughout their entire relationship? Or are these traits something that Steve would just be into anyway?

A: I can definitely answer to some degree! Yes, Steve will realise some of what you mentioned here, some of it he recognises over the next few chapters as Eddie opens up more now they’re TOGETHER✨. Some smaller elements Steve is already putting together. What I will say is that Eddie does not want to hide who he is from Steve forever.

Q: In Prism, do you think if Billy was let out of prison and went back to find Steve do you think Steve would give in and get back with him?

A: We’ll get to explore this in Part Three to some extent, so I won’t spoil anything but what I will say is that all characters in this fucked up little soap opera are always changing and growing (even if not in good ways) and that Billy and Steve are not the same people they were the last time they saw each other. I don’t think for a second Steve would “get back with him” even without Eddie, but Steve will always love him to a point. Billy’s focus on Part Three is less about getting Steve back and more getting him away from Eddie.

Q: Does Prism Eddie kinda still want Billy? I think about their post-cocaine bathroom all the time and how later he thought to himself he’ll always love Billy in a way, and I know you have said Billy is coming back for part 3!!!

A: Yes, there’s a part of Eddie that’s fascinated by Billy, strangely affectionate towards him (how he thinks of it, the way a cat is “affectionately” playing with a mouse) and they’ll have their own dynamic in Part Three, definitely. There’s a couple of scenes I’m insanely excited to write with the two of them!

Q: I AM VIBRATING OUT OF MY SKIN ABOUT “THE EVENT TM”!!! please can you give any hints?? we beg a morsel

A: ahh, I really don’t want to spoil anything so I’ll tread very carefully. Hmm, I suppose I could say that the Event (due in around 2-3 chapters time) is a catastrophe as of yet unseen in Prism for the fallout it causes and that it puts foundational cracks in everything.

Q: How do Eddie’s six play into the third part? I’m constantly rereading all their scenes, imagining their backgrounds, how they came to be where they are now. You’ve created this fully realised world and it’s just mind-blowing.

A: We’ll learn more about his six as the story unfolds, but for the most part, they can’t be brought in close to the “family” in the town yet. There will, however, be scenes where Steve meets them all in the next chapter or so!

Q: would you consider making any Prism merch? Would buy a journal or a candle in a heartbeat!!!!!

A: Ahh that’s so kind! I’d love to, actually. A journal would be SO cool!

Q: Hi!!! I love Prism WAY way too much and I think a lot about Eddie’s tattoos!!!! Do you think we could ever get to see what the finger tattoo/cult tattoo looks like? Or his wolf? The winged creature? Not that I’m obsessed at all!!?

A: Yes, I’d love to do that at some point. I could probably post the finger tattoo (sword through the sun) although I’d say to wait because over the next few chapters, there’s a couple of new additions!

Q: Hi Az!! Huge fans of you and Brooke! Can I ask how you manage to write SO MUCH and yet keep it so tight?🖤

A: That’s so kind! I think we have a very strict editing process whereby we both make multiple passes of a single chapter. I also tend to reread past chapters fairly obsessively, keeping track of continuity, dates, patterns. We ALSO have several docs for idea pools and detail tracking plus a VERY IMPRESSIVE timeline I made myself which I can’t post sadly because it’s full of spoilers. We work very well in tracking little things that would definitely get out of control otherwise, it’s a beautiful system.

Q: Do we ever find out what happened to Will?

A: I actually am not sure if we’ll share explicitly what it was that happened, as it’s equally impactful not knowing and casts a shadow either way, but maybe!

Q: in the Prism A/B/O verse, would Steve miscarry due to Billy beating him?😭😭😭

A: Sadly yes, and quite often.

Q: can we expect some Prism merch ?! 👀

A: absolutely, I’ll run a poll for what people would like

Q: Are there any plots or scenes in Prism that you and Brooke thought would go one direction but ended up being something entirely new or different when it was finished?

A: Yes! Several, actually. Most times when this happens, we sort of lay it out and discuss it and the scene is usually very cold and brutal and then when we write it, it ends up being much more emotional than expected. One excellent example of this is very early on in Chapter Three where Steve and Eddie first have sex. The scene when we planned/started writing it was so upsetting I actually had a panic attack and that’s not because it was graphic or cruel or anything like that, but just the fact that it was, as we had written it that way, very clearly a rape scene. We ended up rewriting it -you can see the change where Eddie pulls away and says “no, I’m not doing this, he doesn’t want it” and sits in the chair and then STEVE has to pursue Eddie, which was so much worse than it being point blank rape but it just evolved that way naturally. I think I experienced my first severe bleed with Eddie and how WRONG it felt to do it that way which was extremely unsettling and upsetting. We since have boundaries in place to help us with the more triggering elements, Sometimes, however, a scene just naturally evolves while we’re writing it and we go with it. The argument between Billy and Steve before the crash was much simpler in it’s planning, so watching it become what it did was amazing. Honestly though, the entirety of Prism has become far grander and larger than what we ever set out to do and encouraging the evolution of it is, I think, our finest trait as co-writers. Many incredible ideas begin as one of us saying in a voice message “OK, this might be too much, but--!’ and then the other being open and encouraging of whatever madness it is. Prism really is the perfect example of what imagination running riot can do with a good support system. @thorniest-rose what were some of yours?

Q: Will Steve and Eddie refer to themselves as an official couple now that they both know how much they want each other or will it take a while for them to establish themselves as boyfriends? I know it didn’t really take long at all for Billy & Steve to be a thing, but with Eddie will they go the friends with benefits route or will they choose to take things ‘slow’ in their own flawed ways? - I know you guys have said, well as far as I can remember have said that Eddie won’t be physically abusive/harmful to Steve so I don’t expect that type of abuse, however we know that Eddie is still a bad, morally grey person and I can’t help but wonder if he’ll be emotionally, verbally, or mentally abusive to Steve? How will their unhealthy relationship dynamics come into play?

A: Steve and Eddie are absolutely not going to waste a single second of time in establishing themselves as boyfriends. This question honestly makes me giggle with glee because Eddie would marry Steve while fucking him while getting matching tattoos while on the way home from the church. It’s been such a long time coming and much of Eddie’s ability to be patient with the things he wants is cracking apart now. There will be no grace period. The world will know they are violently, desperately in love.

As for the second Q, this is far more complex and interesting. The easy answer is of course “No, absolutely not,” because Eddie loves Steve, he’s nothing like Billy and he’d never hurt Steve in any way he didn’t want – that’s how Eddie thinks of it. But the real answer requires the story to unfold more and as they become MORE entangled in one another’s lives and things get difficult, we see that Eddie does have the ability to hurt Steve and that Steve can hurt Eddie too. The unhealthy relationship dynamic will definitely be explored in depth as we get to see what them being ✨TOGETHER✨ really looks like and how it affects them as well as others. I think it’s best summed as this. When things are good, it’s fucking incredible, when things are bad, it’s like being at sea without a lighthouse.

Q: Are there any changes you would go back and retcon if you could before you started posting it? I Know you’ve said you both didn’t post until 50K and that you did make a few changes.

A: Honestly, I don’t think so. There’s only so much you can retcon and change before self doubt becomes a real obstacle in carving the path. I WOULD however establish from the start when Steve’s birthday was and construct the timeline from the inception as we came very close to being painted into a corner there! But otherwise not at all.

✨🖤🖤🖤✨

Thank you so much for all the enthusiasm and love!!!

✨🖤🖤🖤✨

[ikeep-forgetting-mypass]

(forgot where the post is so i'm just puttin it here)

the tragedy of Billford is that they could have worked. Like, genuinely, they could have loved each other! ....If only Bill wasn't the fucking worst!

people know that, in canon, a Bill Cipher who'd actually come to terms that he's a terrible person and ruined the only relationship that ever truly warmed him by being said terrible person, is a Bill that would never come to fruition. That ford getting away from Bill and finding his place in the family deserves to be able to move on completely.

That's why 'Bill getting sent to the pines as therapy' is so interesting!

Both of them, especially Bill, have fundamentally changed. and that opens up so many interactions between them and creates a sort of dynamic thats like:

'We were frankly in a very terrible relationship, but now that we have grown and changed and (I) have a support system that will break us apart immediately if we begin to hurt each other, and you genuinely want to be better, maybe this time we can be happy.'

that I have frankly never seen before in media.

Edit/add on:

They're the epitome of 'maybe in another life..' they're tragic, doomed, toxic yaoi who could have loved each other but ultimately couldn't because, for all of Bill's unpredictability, he is incapable of changing who he is!

After all, why should he? Born a monster, a freak, he destroyed his own home, his parents, what else can he be? Even though it sabotages his friendships (the henchmaniacs & the oracle) and ruins his relationship with Ford, the only one he's ever felt truly understood by, he can't see himself and therefore is unable to act as anything but a monster even as it leads to his downfall.

[musicalmoritz]

Why does tsukasa seem to not care much about himself?

I had a hard time figuring out what you meant by this because to be honest, I don’t focus on the Yugi twins as much as some of the other characters. I still try to read analyses on them and understand them, and I have been talking a lot abt Tsukasa lately, but I haven’t rly grasped their characterization as quickly as I did with some of the others

However, after giving it some thought I believe you’re referring to scenes like these

If this is what you mean, then the explanation is that Tsukasa simply doesn’t want to exist. He is a yorishiro and existence for them is essentially hell, just look at what Sumire went through being stuck in a time loop for 100 years. It is not a reach to assume Tsukasa went through something similar, seeing as he alludes to being trapped in a place before escaping near the start of the series when we first meet him. He reached out to Hanako for years, but Hanako never answered any of his calls. So Tsukasa wanting to be destroyed isn’t really out of any self-sacrificial nature, it would be a peaceful ending for him. He’d be able to move onto the afterlife, or otherwise accomplish any conniving goals he might have with the entity (idk as I said, not a Yugi twins expert)

He views Hanako as selfish for wanting to hold onto the people he loves at the expense of their wellbeing. Part of Nene’e fate is to die young, it’s sad but that is the natural path her life is meant to follow. She herself even tries to come to terms with this and make peace with it, but Hanako won’t let her. He loves her, so he wants her to live a long and happy life. This is completely understandable, but it is also selfish. It is part of human nature to be selfish, and part of Hanako will always be tied to the human boy he once was. Selfishness isn’t always bad, sometimes it’s necessary. But from’s Tsukasa’s perspective, Hanako is robbing Nene of an escape

Tsukasa makes this a personal issue because Hanako treats him the same way. It would be objectively better and more natural for him to let Tsukasa go, especially if the theories abt him killing Tsukasa to free him from the entity are true. That is what Tsukasa wants, to be free, to no longer be a yorishiro. But Hanako is selfish, and he loves Tsukasa too much to grant him freedom

Now, if you’re talking about Tsukasa’s lack of self-care in regards to Hanako “hating” him, that’s a bit different

Tsukasa seems to conceptualize relationships in a very black and white way. You either love someone, or you hate them. He’s interested mainly in how other people feel and react to things, so he’s constantly asking them how they feel about others. I don’t think he differentiates much between platonic love and romantic, it is simply “love vs. hate” to him. The two are opposites and cannot intersect

The most genuine statement I could possibly make about Tsukasa is that he loves his brother. Both versions of him, no matter how you interpret his current existence. The possessed Tsukasa we know now is the one who grew up with Amane, he spent ten years of his life with him whilst Baby Tsukasa only knew Amane for three. Ofc that was still his brother so time isn’t rly relevant to how much love/attachment Amane still holds for the original version of Tsukasa, but that doesn’t change the fact that the brother he knew for most of his life was the possessed Tsukasa. They shared holidays and birthdays together, lived together, walked to school together every single day. Through and through, they are brothers and it would be impossible for Hanako not to see him that way, even if he claims not to. It must be a complicated situation for him, on one hand he grew up with this Tsukasa but on the other he blames this Tsukasa for the old one’s disappearance

Back to how Tsukasa feels, he loves Amane fully. He does describe them as rivals, so I would say the feelings are complex on his end as well, but overall he loves his brother. He loves his brother so much that he doesn’t care if Amane hates him. And he must, he threw him across the room once when they were kids when Tsukasa was bothering him. He knew something was off when Tsukasa returned, and his attitude towards him likely reflected that throughout the 10 years they spent together. He killed him, he freezes up when he sees him, he consistently sides against him. For a character that views love in black and white terms, that sure looks a lot like hate. He recognizes that Amane is sad without him, but he also understands that Amane hates him. At least, from Tsukasa’s perspective, that’s what it looks like

But Tsukasa’s love for Amane is unconditional, he doesn’t really care if Amane hates or loves him. Baby Tsukasa says he wants Amane to be an astronaut with their parents, somewhere far away from him so Tsukasa can never make him upset. He believes Amane hates him, but he doesn’t care as long as Amane is happy. That’s all he wants, for Amane to be happy. His brother is the most important person to him, as long as Amane is happy he doesn’t care what happens to himself. Until it reaches a breaking point ofc, and Tsukasa realizes that the best situation for everyone would be for him to disappear

I’m pulling a lot of this out of my ass so I apologize if I got any information incorrect! Also just to be clear I don’t mind being asked about the Yugi twins at all, people were asking me a lot about Tsukasa yesterday so I get why the questions keep coming. Just beware that I am a self-proclaimed Not Expert lol. I do plan to look more into them whenever I start that series of character analyses tho so stay tuned for that

[creamsiclemelt]

not sure what type of prompts u wanted but maybe natejo where the team realizes jo is their solution to how angry nate gets

(or if u need smtg more specific and more ur beat in terms of freaky, natejo cockwarming ◡̈)

I decided to combine both of your prompts anon! Enjoy!

///

Jo is a nice guy. He’s always quick to smile, and is a hell of a hockey player. 

But if you ask Mikko, maybe the best part of having him here, above everything else, is how he has a handle on Mack. Mikko’s never seen anyone outside of Gabe know how to talk Nate down when he’s worked up. 

Jo, though, blows even Gabe out of the water in Nate-handling-skills. Mikko’s seen Jo happily step in between Nate and the target of his ire more than once, has seen Jo go over and make Nate crack a smile when he’s got That One Look on his face. Within the first two weeks of the season, Mikko already knows just how valuable he’s going to be strictly for that alone. 

Still, when Nate accidentally bats the puck into their own net in the last minute of a one-goal game, Mikko knows that the nice dinner out the boys had planned is about to be a whole lot less relaxing than they had hoped for. Either Nate’s not coming—which seems unlikely because Jo’s coming—or he will, and be snappy and irritable when he’s not trying to talk hockey with whoever’s caught next to him. Not to mention what he’s going to be like at practice tomorrow. 

He doubts any amount of Jo talking to Nate or trying to make him laugh is going to change that. 

Mikko stays and does a post-game TV interview right after the game and hopes idly that maybe Nate will have the worst of his anger out by the time he makes it back to the room. 

He’s not exactly optimistic as he approaches the locker room and hears the dead silence coming from it. When he opens the door, he’s expecting some kind of—well. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting. But it isn’t what he finds.

Because Nate’s sitting in his stall, slumped like the picture of relaxation, with his legs spread wide. And in between his knees, there’s a dark head of hair.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it is, but when Mikko cautiously approaches his stall, situated right next to Nate’s, he finds himself blinking down at Jo, eyes caught on the way his mouth is being stretched open by Nate’s cock. 

Jo’s eyes flick over to his, and although Mikko can see his face getting pink, he doesn’t try to pull away, just blinks once, twice, and then shuts his eyes. 

“Thank you, baby,” Nate says, his voice husky and maybe the calmest Mikko’s ever heard him sound after a loss like that. “You’re doing such a good job.” 

Then he looks up, glances around the room until he sees a member of the staff, standing in place, just as frozen as everyone else. “Can you guys do post-game interviews somewhere else?” he asks. 

And, well—

It’s a small price to pay in exchange for a content, calm Nate, all things considered.

[crimsondinnerparty]

Hannigram: The Ultimate Zero-Sum Game

If there’s one thing *Hannibal* nails perfectly, it’s the complex, borderline insane dynamic between Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter. But what makes their relationship so captivating is how it's a zero-sum game from start to finish.

One of them has to lose for the other to win—and sometimes, it feels like winning is the worst thing that could happen to either of them.

What Is a Zero-Sum Game?

In basic terms, a zero-sum game means that for one person to gain something, the other has to lose an equal amount. It’s like a tug-of-war where both sides can’t win at once. And that’s exactly what Will and Hannibal are doing the whole time—pulling each other apart in this twisted dance of love, manipulation, and survival.

Hannibal Wants to *Consume* Will

Let’s be real: Hannibal doesn't just want to be friends with Will. He wants to **own** him. Hannibal's love is this dark, possessive thing where he needs Will to embrace the darkness completely, to be his mirror. Think about it—every time Hannibal talks about "seeing" Will, it's always about how *he* sees Will’s potential for violence and darkness, and how Will just needs to step into it.

Season 2, “Mizumono”: Hannibal’s attempt to flee with Will wasn’t just an offer; it was an ultimatum. For Hannibal, Will’s refusal to fully join him led to one of the most violent, heart-wrenching betrayals in the series. Hannibal leaves Will bleeding out on the floor not because he’s rejected but because Will *failed* him by not becoming what Hannibal wanted him to be.

Will’s Struggle: To Keep His Soul or Surrender It

On the other side of this is Will, constantly fighting against Hannibal’s pull. What makes this a true zero-sum game is that if Will gives in to Hannibal—really gives in—he loses who he is. Will’s whole battle is about preserving his empathy, his sense of right and wrong, but the deeper he goes into Hannibal’s world, the more that slips away.

Season 3, “Digestivo”: When Hannibal lets himself get caught just to stay close to Will, it shows how far this game has gone. Hannibal’s giving up his freedom, but it’s all part of trying to win the ultimate prize: Will’s loyalty. Will is trapped because any attempt to leave or resist Hannibal brings him back into this twisted love, even at the cost of his sanity.

The Finale: Both Can’t Survive

Fast forward to the series finale, and we see the game come to its ultimate end. When Will finally acknowledges his attraction to the darkness Hannibal represents, he’s no longer just resisting—he’s accepting that there’s no middle ground for them. It’s all or nothing. So what does he do? He takes them both off the cliff. In a true zero-sum game move, Will realizes that for either of them to win, they both have to lose. And so they fall together.

“The Wrath of the Lamb”: That final scene is the perfect metaphor for their entire relationship. Will’s decision to pull them both into the abyss is the only way to escape the endless push and pull. They can’t just be together; they can’t just walk away. If Will fully embraces Hannibal, he’s lost to the darkness. If Hannibal lets Will go, he loses the person who sees him most clearly. So, they fall.

Endless Cycles of Power-

Even when one gains the upper hand—Will trapping Hannibal, Hannibal framing Will—this only pushes them deeper into each other’s worlds. Hannibal sees Will as a masterpiece in progress, something to mold. But the second Will truly gives in, he stops being himself. The balance between them means that love, survival, and destruction are all the same thing.

In Conclusion: Their Love Is a Zero-Sum Game

The Hannigram relationship is tragic because it’s unsustainable. They are trapped in a game where the only real "win" comes from total domination or destruction. Hannibal's love is about consuming Will, and Will’s love (or resistance) is about holding onto whatever is left of himself. Every moment of their relationship is about pushing the other to a breaking point, and neither can win without annihilating the other.

In the end, love isn’t just complicated between these two—it’s a weapon, a means of control, and a game where survival means the loss of something essential. **They can’t exist together without breaking each other apart.**

---

Hannibal once said, “Killing must feel good to God too… He does it all the time, and are we not created in His image?” In Hannigram’s case, this line rings true: their love is all about creation and destruction. To love, for them, is to annihilate.

-—————————————————————————

[adoresia]

Hello!! I saw you were taking requests for jjk this is my first time asking for anything but I was wondering if you could write something angsty for reader x Choso? It can be anything I’m just craving angst 😣😣

— 5 STAGES OF GRIEF

⋆.˚ WARNINGS : none it’s just sad ig 😅

⋆.˚ SYNOPSIS : In which Choso loses the love of his life

⋆.˚ SIERRA SPEAKS : I feel like I disappointed with this one I’m ngl😭 I kinda wrote it in Choso’s pov and got a bit to carried away, y/n is more read through his eyes if that even makes sense. Yeah I’m just gonna post it and see what happens cause idek atp. I hope I didn’t 100% disappoint you😔

Here we go again. The same reoccurring theme of death had once again pierced Choso’s heart, and this time it was unbearable. Even for a half cursed spirit like himself. The amplitude of his heart beats had grown heavier and heavier until it was consumed in sorrow, hatred, and most of all, anger. A feeling in his heart that wasn’t foreign, but is or was so intense that for the second time it felt like the furnace of hell had possessed his whole Existence .

But there he sat, bargaining with a pool full of his own tears. Yet again, over the loss of someone that he would’ve thought he could never lose. Someone he thought he would never lose, and yet he did. Again. In a house that was meant to reside the both of you. You and him, united, for the rest of eternity now only contained one.

And that was how it was going to be, even if he couldn’t come to terms with never feeling the warmth coursing through your veins. Even if it meant he could never again feel your precious heart beating exclamatively with love for him. Even if it meant he could no longer deny how softly you peered into his love-struck eyes, unraveling the story of what they told. Only because you could, because you were the only person who could.

Instead of you being there to tell him that everything would be okay, the stuffed panda that was poisoned with your scent was all he had left to comfort him. And although your aroma breathed through the stuffed animal you left behind purified senses, It would never ever be enough to purify his now eternally Brocken heart. Because without you anymore there was no point in his heart, there was no reason to live.

The space you once shared was now depressingly vacant. Everywhere he looked he was met with a soul shattering image of you, and it broke him even more that now your death was what he was forced to remember you by. Instead of the time he pointed up at the blanket of stars that stretched to infinity with you by his side. Everytime it replayed in his mind you had now become his very own hand-crafted star in the sky, now forever having to point up at you, it pained him that no matter how far he reached you were to far gone for him to bring back.

“Oh y/n. How I wish you were still here with me.”