#being runner is actual agony

[ladyloveandjustice]

Salivating (Dunmeshi Farcille Fic)

A new Marcille x Falin fic, snuck in just before this season's last episode. This one should be accessible to anime-onlies as it's an AU what if rather than being rooted in any part of the story. It's actually based off this fan animation, which makes ME salivate every time I see it. So this one gets a little horny, which is unusual for me, but this level of horny is probably nothing for anyone else on the planet.

cw for some violent deaths and ideas. I have an additional note on the bottom. Enjoy!

---

Marcille ran through the tunnel, gasping with every step. Falin’s—the chimera’s—footsteps thundered behind her, shaking loose soil off the walls.

Marcille had never been a fast runner. Rivers of sweat were pouring down her face, her heavy breathing turning to a desperate wheeze. But she kept going, pure adrenaline driving her on.

She wanted to curse her own stupidity, but she knew if it happened again, she would make the exact same choice.

They hadn’t expected to meet Falin so soon. They’d been eating a meal when she’d found them. Laios had been the quickest to react and the first to go down. He landed a few hits before Falin tore at his face and slammed him to the floor with her clawed foot. Marcille would never forget Laios trying to talk, to yell whatever his plan was this time, even as his bones snapped and blood bubbled out of his mouth

Marcille rushed forward. She had to get to Laios, she had to heal him. Not just because his spasms of agony were tearing through her like the pain was her own, but because of Falin. If Falin killed her brother and remembered that after they saved her, the guilt would crush her.

 But Chilchuck yanked her back behind some fallen rubble. “Don’t go charging in! You’re the only one who can heal and resurrect us! We need you, idiot!”  He hissed it at her, even as his hands shook, even as Falin smashed Senshi into a wall with a sweep of her tail. Izutsumi was nowhere to be found—maybe she’d run off.

“I can’t just—” Marcille snarled.

“You will!” Chilchuck snapped. “Look, I’m going to distract her, I’ll buy you time to do a big spell. If she kills me, get out of here and come back later to save us. That’s our only shot at surviving!”

“No!” she cried, but Chilchuck was already running. Falin snarled, trying to stomp on him, but he was too small and fast. He darted this way and that, and ran past where Senshi was lying prone.

“Senshi! Are you okay? Wake up!” he called. He only slowed down a fraction, but that fraction was enough.

Falin’s mouth twisted in rage. She started to mutter a spell.

No. No!

Marcille didn’t care what Chilchuck wanted or what the best plan was. How dare he ask her stand there and watch him suffer. He couldn’t force her to sacrifice her friends, to watch the woman she loved tear them to pieces. He couldn’t make her murder Falin and be left alone, surrounded by everyone’s dead bodies. She wouldn’t do it!

Chilchuck looked up at Falin looming above him, his face pale.

Marcille swung her staff, setting off an explosion right next to Falin. Falin turned, her eyes wide. “Come and get me!” Marcille screamed, setting off another one. And then she turned and ran. She could hear Chilchuck cursing her out distantly, but it didn’t matter. She knew Falin would come after her. She was the biggest threat right now.

 She ran for her life, even as her legs shook with exhaustion. Sometimes when she took sharp turns, she banged into walls, stone scraping her skin. But she never slowed down. She knew the only reason Falin hadn’t caught up to her was because it was hard for her to move in these narrow tunnels. But Marcille would have to face her at some point.  I need to come up with a plan, I need a plan, I need a plan!

Then she found the thing she’d been dreading all along. A huge cavern. A brick wall. A dead end.

She couldn’t double back, so she ran for the wall, pressing her hands against it, trying to find an opening, a patch of dungeon cleaners, anything. But there was no time. A roar exploded behind her. Marcille whipped around. Falin was squeezing herself out of the tunnel. She landed on the cavern floor with a thud and the whole place shuddered.

Marcille’s staff shook as she tightened her grip on it. She had to do something…something…another explosion, maybe…

Falin towered above her now. She cocked her head, studying Marcille curiously. The rage and snarling from earlier was gone. She didn’t seem to care that Marcille was pointing a weapon at her, as if she knew the threat was empty. Marcille opened her mouth, searching for a spell, but nothing came.

Falin bent down, down, down until her face was level with Marcille’s.

And that was what undid her.

This was the face of the woman she loved. Her golden eyes alight with curiosity, her wheat colored hair that fell in soft wisps around her chin, her apple red cheeks…it was all just as Marcille remembered. Even with blood dripping from her mouth, Falin was so stunningly, achingly beautiful.

And in Falin’s searching eyes, Marcille saw an echo of the exquisite, inquisitive woman who gazed wonderingly at bugs, who explored new places, who discovered strange magic…who gently coaxed out every feeling Marcille tried to bury.

“Falin,” Marcille’s voice cracked. “I know you’re in there. Please, come back to me.”

 Falin leaned forward. Marcille jerked in fear as Falin's hand shot out, but it wasn't the blow she expected. Instead, Falin's fingertips trailed down Marcille's face, soft as whisper. It was the touch she'd been craving for so long. She could even feel Falin's calluses, the ones she'd studied like a map. Marcille wanted to lean into it, let Falin cup her chin like she used to. Her hand felt so right, so perfect, even covered in red.

Her scent enveloped Marcille, that smell of new soil and raspberries …now mixed with the sharp tang of blood. Falin’s hot breath tickled Marcille’s face. Goosebumps raised on her arms. Falin was so close, Marcille could count the faint freckles on her nose. Her lips were pink, soft, parted…

Could she be…?

She’s dangerous, she’s dangerous, it’s really Falin, don’t be an idiot, now’s not the time…!

But even as she thought this, even as she pressed her back against the wall, Marcille’s lips parted too.

Falin grabbed Marcille hard around the chin and jerked her forward. Marcille cried out, but Falin ignored her. She dragged her tongue slowly up Marcille’s cheek, lapping up the blood leaking from the cuts on her face.

A strange shiver raced through Marcille, hot and electric. Her chest heaved.

Seriously?  Some distant part of her mind scolded. What are you doing right now? She’s a MONSTER. She's going to kill you! Where are your priorities?

But then Falin licked her again, and she melted. Falin’s warm tongue traveled up curve of her face, smearing blood everywhere, leaving her skin tingling. Marcille let out a strangled squeak. A flush crawled up her neck.

But even as her knees got weaker with each stroke of Falin’s tongue, even as the blush spread through her entire body, even as ecstasy bloomed, the fear grew in Marcille. With numb horror, she realized that it was Laios’ blood that Falin was dribbling onto her face. She was next. Falin had gotten her taste now. She wasn’t going to stop. Her hand was clamping tighter and tighter around Marcille’s chin.

She had to act. At this range, if she used explosion magic, she’d blow Falin’s head off. The thought made her sick. She could imagine Falin’s scream, being drenched in her blood and brains. She could never hurt Falin like that. But blinding her temporarily with a flash spell…that could work. It would at least give Marcille a chance to run.

Hoarsely, she started to mutter the spell.

The second she did, Falin reared back, lifting her into the air by her throat. Marcille screamed, choked, writhed, and her staff fell to the floor with a clatter. Falin grabbed her around the waist to keep her still, letting go of her neck.

Marcille coughed, eyes streaming. She was pressed against Falin now, with silky feathers brushing her arms.

Falin licked her lips, tongue gliding along her teeth, wetting the blood around her mouth. She was salivating.

Marcille went limp, weighed down by exhaustion. It was over. If Falin wanted to kill her, rip out her throat, even eat her…didn’t she have the right? Marcille was the one who turned her into this, after all. It was what she deserved.

There was something almost freeing about the thought of Falin devouring her, tearing at her flesh, swallowing her bit by bit, finding pleasure in the meal. At least this way, she could do something for Falin. She’d could fill her up, become part of her, if only for a moment.

Marcille closed her eyes. It was better this way. At least now she wouldn’t have to live in a world without Falin…she wouldn’t have to outlive Falin or any of her friends…

Her friends.

Laios lying broken on the floor. Senshi covered in rubble.

Chilchuck’s desperate voice. “You’re the only one who can heal and resurrect us! We need you, idiot!”

Would she abandon them? Would she leave them there to die?

Would she give up on getting Falin back? On hearing her laugh again, on being by her side?

Would she give up on her dream, after all her endless work and struggle?

No. Never.

She opened her eyes. Falin was already nearly at her throat, fangs bared. Marcille struggled, yanking desperately at Falin's hair, pulling out her feathers. Falin simply smiled, as if she was enjoying Marcille's feeble attempts. Her sharp teeth closed around Marcille’s neck, slowly sinking in...

A feral yell tore through the air. Izutsumi leaped out of the tunnel, slashing at Falin’s leg with her claws. It didn’t do much damage, but it was enough to distract Falin. She swiped at Izutsumi, holding Marcille aloft. The catgirl dodged easily.

“Izutsumi!” Marcille shouted, wanting to cry with happiness. She hadn’t abandoned them after all.

Izutsumi grabbed the staff from the floor and tossed it up at Marcille. “You better not blow this!”

Marcille caught it.

Falin’s head turned. Marcille took in her lovely face one last time. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I promise I’ll save you.”

She pressed her staff against Falin’s ribs. And this time, she didn’t hesitate.

---

(Notes: I know Chimera Falin can't digest raw meat and blood, but Marcille doesn't. She does really like the taste of Marcille's blood (romantic), but she's just planning to kill her so she can slurp it up in small amounts at her leisure, without too much tummy trouble. If you need to know.)

[rapunzelforlorn]

I made my friend watch heartstopper and I got his reactions for you to all enjoy

Ep 1

Fuck Ben!

Elle actually trans?

FUCK BEN!!

Rugby bros nice & accepting

Charlie is him

FUUUUUUUCKK BEN!!!!

Is ig the main communication method?

Does "x" mean more than kisses?

Ep 2

Charlie is just so supportive

Ben gives the ick

Let people have crushes

Why do school dynamics in shows never feel like they do in real life?

Tori's an odd one

Upset we got robbed Charlie getting his haircut and stressing too the barber

Nellie's barks fake??

What friends play in the snow like this?

Nick's mom read him like a book

Rocketman can't play drums lol

WHY'S THE TENSION SO GOOD 😫

Loving the comic effects

Tori is SO weird

Floor person confirmed bi

Ep 3

Nick going through the queer rabbit hole, fuck that's depressing 😔

Do we like Imogen?

Feel bad for Tao 😔

What's with the sequined clothes?

Tao's a bit dramatic

Fuck Harry

Fuck Ben again!!

Good on Charlie standing up to him

Tao IS dramatic

Imogen is a bit much but not bad?

Who throws parties like this??

Is this a hotel?

The sneaker squeak breaking the silence

God I miss this nervous tension

Nick absolute Golden retriever

Ep4

A boy, talking about his feelings?!?!

Nick never got that jumper

Imogen is too much lol still not sure if we like her

Tao & Elle?

Does this art teacher have a name??

Mr. Arjiya?

Gay people sport

I really want one of these rugby boys to step and be supportive of Charlie being on this team

Imogen...kinda annoying

ANNOYING

Ally 🤣

Tao🤜vs🤛Nick 🙈

Harry's a twat

Nick looking genuinely upset about being "friends"

There's nothing wrong with worrying about your teammate¡!!!!

Nick being ambushed, not cool

Not sure Imogen is bad, annoying yes, but doesn't know better

Ep5

Fuck monopoly

Not Imogen's dog 😭😭😭

Nick's so conflicted and it hurts

Saturday came so fast??

Tao's hair flaps gets me everytime

Wait...what about imogen???

Tao's overprotective, heart in the right place

Not the strongly worded DM 😭

Tao quick to judge

Smooching!!!

Tao & Elle 😏

Imogen, good friend?

Ep6

Nick has good taste in pirate movies

PotC confirmed Bi movie

Bi panic

Friends to lovers pipeline

Why does it always happen in band rooms?

Girl, with very queer haircut - "never would've guessed you were gay"

The ice cream truck song?

Anti-homiphobia cheese

Picnic bants

Shout out to this vlogger

Tara is SUCH a good friend

Such a supportive group

Charlie's excitement for the official date!!

What is this magical milkshake shop???

Where do they get date money?

Tao being oblivious 😐

A concert after all that dairy?!?!

Nick saying he might be bisexual and then saying I'm not sure feels very bixeual

Poor Tara

Tao having the longest legs and being the slowest runner

The subtle carhart on Nick's coat 😂

Ep7

Why is Tori so weird??

Charlie needs to work on standing up for himself

Rugby lad 😂

Sweet popcorn 🤢

Char?

Harry needs to piss off

Ben's a fucking creep AND a pos

Nick standing up to Harry, mint

Nick's mom know? Motherly intuition?

I really need Charlie to stand up for himself, love that he has people in his corner but I need him to step up

The "s" word

Art teacher complaining about crumbs like the counters & cabinets aren't stained with paint

Tao 😔

Elle's fits tho

Tao holding his own against Harry 👀

Tao & Charlie 😭😭

Ep 8

Harry's a twat, Tori confirmed

Tori still weird but good sister

Issac has been unbothered and in his lane all season, we stan

Don't you have to fill out papers to quit a team?

Nick & Tao bonding

Tao is good friend

Seeing the "typing..." appear & disappear is such a relatable agony

Elle is her

Why don't we have a sports day?

What's the point of all girls/boys school if they're seemingly right next to each other and constantly intermingling

FUCK OFF BEN

Charlie...STANDING UP FOR HIMSELF?? 👏👏

Charlie & Tao hugging it out 🥺

Kinda want more Issac

Tao & Elle 👀👀👀👀

Kith? No kith 😖

The principle over the intercom 🤣

Nick & Charlie locking eyes in the rugby match

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

The walk off!!!!!

Issac still unbothered and in his book lmao

"I believe you" 😭💜😭💜

Seagulls do not mean beach but okay

Proper date antics 💜💜

The beach is all rocks?

"In a romantic way, not just a friend way" 🤣

And they were boyfriends

We love a supportive mum

Ending with a montage, love to see it

All in all I think he formed the correct opinions but don't worry I WILL be educating him about baby angel Tori and solitare.

[liliumsabyss]

Victory

Newt(TMR) x male reader

Prequel(?) to “Don’t Go”

Minor angst to Fluff I think?

Word Count: 1.35k

Tw: Normal Maze Runner stuff maybe more descriptors of violence, loss of hearing temporarily, maybe ooc

Newt hadn’t seen it till it was too late and now he was fighting off a crank that had climbed on top of him waving its claws wildly and snarling at him. He terrified, fought back being careful to avoid being scratched or bit using the large rifle he had stolen from wicked as a shield as much to his misfortune had gotten jammed rendering it as his only weapon useless, utterly useless. And he was not ready to accept the fate that was to await him if he were to give up he still had to fight. But that wasn’t the main thought in his mind as his ears rang. The main thought was Where were you? If you were okay despite the odds were ok he would be fine with dying right there but with the group getting ambushed by a flood of cranks he feared that you had either been dead or infected and both of those images had been his worst fear. His thought of you being infected had started to now grow into a conviction he was so convinced you had to be infected at this point that he begged you had died instead at least then he wouldn’t have to watch your eyes slowly turn into a black void, dark blood spilling from your mouth, your veins showing off the changes, and worst of all, your beautiful mind withering away till you were an empty shell actually you wouldn’t be empty you would be so much worse filled with agony, hatred, and a violent nature that simply just didn’t belong to you. The thought of that made him more terrified than the crank he was fighting. And yet just at that second a swift blur in his confusion passed by his eyes the weight of the creature gone. So he scrambled to sit up only to see you on top of the crank, pinning its arms into the ground with your knees while your knife was held high above your head. Newt's eyes flashed with even more horror at the image, why were you being so so stupid why would you put yourself in this kind of peril for him, why were you willing to potentially die for him. He couldn’t understand actually with his fear cloudling his brain he wouldn’t understand the conviction of you being infected flashed across his eyes all over again. Your knife came down over and over black liquid spraying you with each violent stab into the cranks skull the dark substance dripping from the knife that shined ever so slightly the crank letting out screeches until it fell silent its struggling arms fell limp. You leaned back ever so slightly relieving the pressure on your knees. Dark coloured blood splattered across your face smeared along with dust and dirt as you climbed off the crank still remaining on your knees. Newt without thinking crawled? More like clamered on his knees towards you sliding at the last second ever so slightly before you.

“ You bloody shank! Why would you do that?” He practically yelled over the gunshots of the others, “ Why would you be that bloody stupid! People care about you, I care about you!”

You tilted your head in confusion at him but he didn’t appear to notice. He continued to “yell” as you watched his lips trying to make out with what he was saying. He almost completely forgot that he had practically confessed to you but that would be a problem for future him. Yet by the time he had stopped to take a sharp inhale and he refocused on you matching your confusion as he saw you staring confused and intensely at his mouth. He blushed a little at the immediate implication he had thought of, quite embarrassed with himself that his mind even remotely thought of that. You said something softly, too softly for him to hear over the screeches and gunfire. He looked at you in confusion moving his head closer, hinting he could not hear. 

“ I CAN’T HEAR MY GUN BLEW OUT MY HEARING.” You shouted unable to control your volume due to your well lack of receiving volume. Newt slightly jumped back in surprise at your loudness, but quickly he nodded showing he understood what you had said. 

He scrambled onto his feet, realising that the group had to move forward or else they would die there. He had then reached his hand out towards you, you in response stretched your hand up to rest in his before his fingers curled gentle enough not to hurt you but firm in which it would be hard to let go. Newt gave a sharp tug to reference you to stand, you stood up stumbling a tad trying to gather your bearings. 

“ We have to get out of here, they will corner us.” Newt shouted at the rest, you had tried to read his lips only catching a word here and there as your hearing continued to be repressed. It would have sounded if you were underwater.

The other nodded and made affirmations in response. Newt looked at you trying his best to mouth something, you could make it out and he never would have even had to tell  you for you already did. The words “Trust Me” left his mouth and you nodded, why wouldn’t you he was the one you had so utterly cared for to the point where you had thrown yourself onto a crank for him. So yes you did trust him. He turned around reaching into his back pocket behind the aviator esc coat revealing a small handgun he had most definitely taken from WICKED. When? You had no clue but considering his other weapon was rendered useless you certainly weren’t complaining. He started to yell towards the rest who were still fighting against the ongoing swarms of cranks. There was a plan in play, a plan you didn’t know and that scared you but your ever going trust in the other male was clear so you squeezed his head lightly your version of a response. And soon you moved forward, Newt jogging to the best of his ability stayed at the front clearing the general path with the small handgun and never once letting go of your hand. While he was usually never the leader and often more times second in command the person who keeps everyone together you could see that he was more than suited to be a leader. Whether it was in his nature or he had picked it up from Alby no one there could deny his knack for leadership. To you he had seemed like a knight in shining armour, fearless. However his internal dialogue would prove otherwise, he was mortified at that second he was nearly shooting everything that moved and he was as flighty as bird. He held frantically onto your hand the warmth of your hand and the occasional squeeze here and there kept him grounded yet made him only further scared him. The constant reminder that you had been there and while not helpless you certainly weren’t in the most ideal situation.

 He would’ve kept running if it wasn’t for Minho’s voice calling out to him he wouldn’t have stopped. He looked around a little too fast for someone who would appear to be safe and that's when he realised they had gotten out that they were safe. He looked back at you, both of you holding each other's hand just as tight, the sun lighting up your faces. A huge grin spread across your face and you laughed, you just laughed, your head threw back and you laughed and before Newt knew it he was laughing alongside you his toothy grin being revealed as he laughed. There were only two thoughts in his mind: you had survived and furthermore you were so bloody beautiful. And so he continued to smile and laugh as the others joined in celebrating your victory, he couldn’t tell if your hearing was back but for now he would just enjoy watching you celebrate. 

[bri-the-fando-meister]

The Sting

Minho x Reader Female --- Newt is also in it

Summary: A few months ago, Minho's best runner got stung, he was worried about them, because he loved them. That was you, you were his best runner. One day, he saw your sting, and it was not shucking pretty.

TW: Short part about offing self, swearing, description of wound

1700 words, 12 minute read time

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You and Minho had been extremely close since you became his best runner, well, that was until the horrid day that you got stung. Then you became even closer.

He was there when you went through the changing, he saw you flail about, he saw you screaming in tortured agony. He even saw you as your hands fixed around your neck, squeezing until your face grew purple. He remembers that horrifying and gripping moment of him prying your hands away, only to be met with screaming, but he knew it wasn't you.

You didn't like him seeing you as you were, you were an animal - a sick wounded animal that wanted to get away from it all, but couldn't.

"I don't know if you are going to get through this or not but, Y/n, I love you. I am so sorry I let this happen to you. I am such a slinthead and I shucking love you."

When you had recovered enough to think straight, you decided to see if he actually did love you, like he had said. "Minho, was my brain making klunk up when I went through the changing or did you actually say you loved me?" Minho smirked.

"I guess that means you love me too?"

You nodded so fast that your head could have fallen off.

"I guess that it's official."

It had been 2 months ago, the two of you had been together 2 whole months.

Because of the whole griever incident and your arm being a bit, gruesome looking, you religiously wore a jumper to hide it from people that may see it. Shuck, not even Minho had seen it being your boyfriend and all.

One night though, you had accidentally let your guard down.

"Minho, I am gonna change shirts, k'? This shirt is soo itchy."

You pulled your jumper and shirt over your head doing that twisty arm thingy. That left you in just a sports bra and your shorts, your arm was in plain sight.

Then he saw it, all of it. Your heavily bruised, puckered, swollen, and red arm with a scabby circular shape sitting inside it all.

"Fuck Y/n, that looks infected. Has it been like that since the, sting?" He was worried, it was the most worried you had seen Minho since the initial sting.

You shrugged it off "Ehh, it's not that bad Minho. Just slim it nice and cool will ya"

"No, no, No this is bad, it is infected. I need to get you to the med-jacks. They will know what to do. You are going no matter what, Y/n, this is serious."

"Whyyyy, I don't need it. Nobody was even meant to see it." you were whining at Minho, you hate being fussed over and being seen as weak.

"Come on Y/n, we can do it the easy way or the hard way." He spoke to you as though you were a little kid.

"I guess it will have to be the hard way, I am not going anywhere for shuck sake." you fumbled around Minho's hut, it was kinda yours too, you needed to get a shirt and your jumper on.

"Ok, if you do say so" Minho smirked, "Y/n, you are coming with me whether you like it or not, don't be a slinthead because I am much, Much stronger than you" and with that, he used one leg to sweep your feet from under you and caught your back on the way down.

The entire situation turned into Minho having the upper hand. He was carrying you bridal style to the med-hut with you kicking out and flailing around.

"I didn't quite expect 'this' to be how I got you to the med-hut. You are normally much better behaved than this."

You protested. "Minho, put me down. I said PUT ME DOWN! Ok, have it your way, sorry in advance."

Minho had his guard up, he knew you were going to do something.

You began to squirm around in his big arms getting to the perfect angle with one arm hanging in between his legs.

Then you hit him in the family jewels. Then he dropped you. Then you ran off. Then you ran into something. Then the something spoke.

"Bloody hell Y/n, watch where your shucking going." then he saw your arm. "Oh my god Y/n, did you get stung again? What happen-" he trailed off. Even at night you could tell by the voice who it was, it was Newt. "Y/n?"

"Yes Newt?"

"Why is Minho in the middle of the glade doubled over clutching his nutsack?" Newt was, to say the very least, curious.

So, you told him the story while Minho began walking the 100 meters between you and him.

"Wow Y/n" Minho had arrived back "You and Minho have had, quite the night, hey?"

"I guess so, but forget you ever saw my piece of klunk arm"

"Y/n" It was Minho, he was speaking firmly, you could tell he was serious at the time "You still need to go, if not by my word, Newt's authority. Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way? Your choice"

"I'm not going, you can get some stuff from the medjacks and bring it to our hut. Nobody else is seeing my bloody arm!" you were practically yelling at the end, you were ready to fight a losing battle.

Minho approached you slowly, both hands open facing you, as not to scare you. "Come on Y/n, please, for me?" and with that he lunged forward and snatched your wrist. "Fuck off Minho, let me go." before you knew it, you had socked him in the jaw.

"Minho, sorry, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to do that, I am so, so sorry. Sorrysorrysorry."

"You really don't want to go huh? I am sorry, but you have to, it is too infected, you could get sepsis and die if it isn't treated" Minho was pissed, and you knew it. He wasn't used to you being snarky.

Minho turned to Newt and spoke to him while he was still holding your wrist.

"Newt."

"Yeah Minho"

"Grab one of her arms, I don't care if she wants to or not, she, is, going." Minho spoke bluntly.

"On it, Minho"

Before you knew it, both of your arms were being held as you were hoisted to your feet, you were being defiant and you knew it, so you decided that 'if they want me there that bad, they can drag me'.

Yep, you had gotten yourself into quite the predicament. Your boyfriend and the second-in-command of the glade were dragging you by your arms to the medhut, it definitely wasn't a desirable situation. So you know, you kicked out at Minho in hopes that he would let go of you.

"Y/n, cut it out, it's not the end of the shucking world."

You kept trying to kick him.

"Newt, can you hook your other arm under her leg. Just keep her still please."

You weren't able to kick or hit anymore, you were defenseless.

"Hey Minho" Newt said

"Yeah Newt, what's up?"

"Yanno, you did a good job at picking a shucking girlfriend that is as feisty and stubborn as you."

"Oi, you little slinthead"

The two boys were actually kind of funny, listening to them talk to each other was somewhat calming.

"Y/n, are you going to walk now, or do Newt and I still have to be your personal slaves?"

"I- I will walk now, I guess it does need to get looked at."

"Good choice" the two boys said in unison as they dropped your legs, they still held onto your arms though, you had had a history of running off at random times.

You didn't think it could get any worse, but then, Alby came out of the medhut 300 meters away. Ok, ok, Alby walking out of the medhut was no big deal, he was probably just checking on his men.

And then you remembered that if he saw you being led to the medhut with two of his best men holding your arms tight he would in the very least, be concerned.

You stopped dead in your tracks and didn't want to go nearer to Alby, he would not be happy that you kept your poor arm a secret.

"Come on Y/n, Newt and I can drag you again if you want."

"And then Alby will be more inclined to come over" Newt added.

Shuck, what would you do, you could plant one foot far in front of you so they couldn't drag you, or you could actually listen to them for the first time that night. You knew what you were going to do.

You dug your left heel into the dewy night grass and put your right foot backwards and twisted it, bracing for being pulled. Though you knew that you were no match for the boys.

Then you felt them trying to drag you, but they weren't. Your bracing helped. Them Minho picked up your front foot rendering your attempts at bracing yourself useless.

"Come on Y/n, any more of this bullshit and I will be calling Alby over, you don't want him seeing you, do you?"

"Fine, I will walk, just let go of me, it is bringing too much attention."

"Promise not to run off, I don't wanna get angry boyfriend on you."

"Promise, Minho"

Then they let go, and to you followed along, a plan already brewing in your mind.

"Good, good Y/n, see, you are able to behave. We have already walked 50 meters. Good job" Minho was happy you decided to behave.

You looked over to the trees at the deadheads, you could easily get there before Minho caught up to you, surprisingly though, he was the fastest in the glade, Ben coming second.

Minho and Newt let you walk in between them, though they were both only a foot away from your arms- to run would be close but not impossible.

You began to build up good rapport with them, they trusted you. You hated to need to break their trust, but it was your only chance, you were only 100m away from the medhut.

"Y/n, you have slowed down, you aren't planning on running. Are you?"

"I- I was going to, Minho, I don't know why, but I am scared."

He grabbed your waist and pulled you in tightly.

"I love you Y/n, it will be okay, I won't let anything bad happen to you."

[kristiemewisstan]

The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology Review (or me slowly going from spiraling in excitement to madness to sadness in 1 hour):

The Black Dog-

SO GOOD THIS IS SO GOOD IM YELLING THIS HAS MY FAV PRODUCTIKN THUS FAR I STILL XANT BELIEVE IT EITHER TAYLOR WHAT TGE FUCK | listen 2 cause I was to hype to truly listen, the magic fabric of her dreamin’ 🥺, oh the original father cheated song, DO YOU HATE ME? ooooof the fact that she felt made fun of by him and still went on to do her shit is so strong and I love her, your honor

imgonnagetyouback-

This one is VERY GOLD RUSH and I’m in love (I’m so sorry I’m not gonna be able to be unbiased rn because I’m too fucking excited), the ahh ahhhhs are so GOOOOOOODDDDD

The Albatross-

“One less temptress one less dagger to sharpen” OOF I feel like I’m in terrible danger of a heart attack, Taylor, I-I Love This Song So Much it’s so folklore

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus-

THIS IS SO GOOOOOOOOOD TAYLOR WHAY THE FUCK MAN, Certified Horse Girl, I’m gonna need to be medicated after this

How Did It End?-

I HEREBY CONDUCT THIS POSTMORTEM IS SUCH A HARD LINE TO START A SONG WITH, the amount of piano overall in these pleases me IMMENSELY, SITTING IN A TREE D-Y-I-N-G yeah Taylor that’s what YOU ARE DOING TO ME

So High School-

THIS IS WHAT I WANTED THE WHOLE ALBUM TO BE, 💯 made to vibe like a coming of age story, “YOU GONNA MARRY KISS OR KILL ME” I LOVE HER, bridge goes HARD

I Hate It Here-

scared to go outside, OH MU GOD JUST THE WHOLE SONG I KEEP WANTING TO WRITE LYRICS DOWN, so folklore, this ones it, ITS IT I LOVE IT SO MUCH

thanK you aIMee-

Oh so we cheated okay Joe I see how it is your days are numbered, SING FUCK YOU AIMEE, HELL YEAH TAYLOR, ID WRIT A THOUSAND SONGS THE YOU FIND UNCOOL, ITS ON SIGHT, OH ITS HAPPY NOW YAY

I Look in People’s Windows-

Okay stalker much lol, this one is sad :(, very pretty though I’m sorry I can’t focus on the lyrics I’m too hype, very folklore so very sad

The Prophecy-

THIS SOUNDS LIKE ANOTHER SONG BUT I CANT PLACE IT it’s gonna kill me, “who do I have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy” rip my heart out my god, DONT NEED MONEY JUST SOMEONE WHO WANTS MY COMPANY, also a very sad one

Cassandra-

snake mention 🐍, THE ALTO UNDERLAY OH MY GOD, I normally am not the largest fan of vocal layering when it’s this obviously but this is absolutely lovely, this one tells a VERY GOOD story, “BUT THEY NEVER SPARED A BRICK FOR MY SOUL” OOOOOOF

Peter-

the piano started off this song and I immediately smiled and it ends up being such a bittersweet song, “promises oceans deep but never to keep” these songs rip my heart more and more and more, CAUSE LOVES NEVER LOST WHEN PERSPECTIVE IS EARNED this really hurt me, this longing hurts me

The Bolter-

She’s a runner she’s a track star! THE CHORUS ugh I love it Taylor why do you have to be so good, yeah this one was very good and I relate to being scared of commitment after heartache SOOO MUCH

Robin-

“Strings tied to lovers” IM CRYING, “ALL THIS SHOWMANSHIP TO KEEP IT” JOSEPH YOU FUMBLED SO HARD, THE INVISIBLE STRING RIFF IM ALREADY CRYING YOU DIDNT NEED TO DO THAT TO ME, i will never be able to listen to this song and invisible string in the same day I think it’s genuinely break me

The Manuscript-

the opening piano made me close my eyes and take a deep breath in, New Year’s Day vibes BUT SAD, oh god you know what I’ll kill him, I’ll take the hit, she knew what the agony had been for 🥹 fuck

First Listen Overall- 10/10

I have no notes it was everything I dreamed the actual album would be Taylor please let me buy this on vinyl I need to have it in my grasp also please give me the lyrics written out so I can analyze it plz

I don’t have a favorite they are all my favorite you could pay me to choose

[we-will-be-reun1ted]

i'm glad you liked my thoughts!!^^ I just had another one specifically for the twins communicating one/aether signing.

Basically just, in the scenario Aether is the traveller; The reason he didn't speak with Lumine when he finally saw her again in the We Will Be Reunited Quest™ was because everything before and the current environment was already just leaving him with a constant feeling of dread. But then seeing Lumine be so cold to him and just. Not behaving how she normally would made him feel like something was deeply wrong and it just threw him off very off. (plus the fact that in official art, and even in game cutscenes, Aether is always the less expressive one of the twins but in this quest when he sprinted after Lumi, he ended up being the more expressive one out of the two just makes me wither on the floor in emotional pain)

Meanwhile in the scenario where Lumine is the traveller, i feel like the fact Aether the sunshine boy (as you wrote before) acting like a colder version of her, and then also Actually Speaking even though she was with Dain (someone Aether considered his enemy and therefore wouldn't speak around) made her just feel like something was just Horribly wrong and very much added to her distraught when she realized Aether was leaving her behind. I don't really have a reason she didn't speak here tho, in the game, other than maybe for the first time she was left so emotionally confused and overwhelmed she found herself unintentionally using her brother's preferred form of communication.

Also the fact that in the second Dain quest the traveller said to Paimon that this was the first time the twins were separated just adds to the absolute emotional pain they would've gone through after seeing someone they've been together with for Aeons is willingly choosing to leave/separate

Also partially unrelated but i always get so happy when Hoyo adds things in the game that makes the twins different from one another (Lumine faster attack speed, Aether higher defence stat; Aether faster runner/climber than Lumine; Jeht having a crush on Lumine but not Aether; Variations in speech/behaviour. Stuff like that.)

(Also did you know that "Nara Varuna" is actually the abyss twin? If you play as Aether, Nara Varuna gets called she/her; but when you play with Lumine, Nara Varuna is suddenly he/him. Also the fact the Aranara say "Nara Varuna was a golden Nara just like you". I just think it's nice that at some point in their travels, while the player-twin was asleep, the future-to-be abyss twin went out of their way to help the Aranara)

This is how your sad headcanons are making me feel. You’re hurting me physically, spider.

Aether being less expressive in general yet when he’s faced with the loss of his sister, being the most expressive of the two is making my heart AGGRESSIVELY BREAK

No cause just imagine (going off of your headcanon where he uses sign language often to communicate) he’s been barely talking due to the constant feeling of dread he’s been getting. How wrong everything feels. When out of nowhere he’s met with his sister, the one person he’s been looking for this entire time. The one person he can talk to freely without it feeling uncomfortable at all.

Yet he can’t talk to her. There’s so much he wants to say. He wants to grab her and drag her away from the abyss. Beg her to go home with him. Leave this world.

But he can’t do any of that. He’s stuck in silence. His face being the only thing that can show the utter agony he feels as his sister turns away from him and disappears once again.

IM GONNA LEAVE THE LUMINE ONE FOR NOW CAUSE IVE GOT A POST IN MY DRAFTS GOING INTO HOW LUMINE FELT WHEN HER BROTHER LEFT HER AND THAT FITS IN PERFECTLY but seriously I don’t know how these guys are gonna recover from this.

Okay one thing that really bugs me about the game is how brushed over the travelers feelings about their twin is. All we really get is the Dain story, and then one or two voice lines about looking for their sibling. We don’t get any in depth lore about how much the traveler is going through. Having to save nations while looking for their twin.

Just the fact that Dain says that this is the first time they have been separated proves so much more that they would be taking this awfully. Not just happily going across Teyvat here there and everywhere. They are suffering. Whether in silence or not. They are taking this terribly. I’m going into all this in another post as some point heheh

YEAH I DO LIKE THAT ABOUT THE GAME it makes it feel a lot more personal! I know a lot of people consider Aether and Lumine pretty much the same character but they are genuinely so different from each other. I always get super happy whenever I’m playing and I see a mention of the twin anywhere or see something about them. I only play as Lumine but I really want to make an account with Aether so I can see what it’s like playing as him!

NARA VARUNA IS THE ABYSS TWIN??? Holy SHIT I did not notice that. I’m not gonna lie I’ve pretty much only just started the aranara quest and I’ve not been able to keep up with them. All these stupid names the aranaras really get on my nerves. But wow that’s actually gonna be so much more interesting to play now that I know that! I can get my serotonin fill whenever the twin gets mentioned now 🫶

[applesontheground]

💘 house call 💉

sending birthday wishes to @bisexual-horror-fan! as always, utterly thankful for a great friendship, and how else to show it by making our barbies kiss each other? this was another hypothetical we had talked about a little after the last cross-canon piece -- how the triads would react to properly meeting each other -- and in my nature i ran to write it for the special day.

(btw, i def intend for this to be something that happens outside the events of prometheus/post the "oh my god they finally hooked up" moment that's still coming. it's a slow burn after all, so spoilers that they get together eventually, i suppose?)

also: just to avoid confusion since there are a severe lack of names in this, i use she/her for the TTHITOW reader and they/them for the YOP reader!

SFW | Word Count: 2,771 | Tiffany Valentine x Reader x Charles Lee Ray & Herbert West x Reader x Daniel Cain contains canon typical/injury, compliant with Through The Heart Is The Only Way and Your Own Prometheus

In the dead of night, a car went squealing down the road. Trying to get away from an audience of dark windows, clear and open like crystal eyes peering into where they were going – and more importantly, who they were.

“Stop lettin’ go of it, you’re just gonna bleed out!”

“I’m not. Tiff, don’t fuckin-! OW!”

Another yelp from the backseat made the tires squeal, causing a sharp turn being made and the woman behind the wheel to finally slam both her palms down in an aggravated motion. “I can’t drive straight if you two are screaming in my ear! I just can’t!” She cried, hands white knuckling as they returned to take control.

Chucky looked to the ceiling of the car cabin, rolling his eyes and disguising it as agony to keep both of his girls off his back. Tiffany swung around from the passenger seat, and she argued, “He’s the one that says we can’t go to a hospital, especially not with the sorry sap in the back.”

Being reminded of the body in the trunk, the waitress rolled her neck but finally gritted, “No, nope. Fuck it, I have somewhere better than a hospital. Somewhere far safer for all of us, sealed lips and all.”

“Sure, sure. Take us wherever is best right now, baby cakes.” Tiffany finally softened, an arm on the crook of her elbow. “Only thing I have t’ask is where it is.”

“…Across from a cemetery…one town over or so…” She mulled, then quickly insisted, “A friend of mine, they work as a document runner. Believe me, we can trust them-“

“Oh, that’s nice. Perfect, just what we needed.” Chucky grimaced in a sarcastic bite, but the waitress snapped, “For God’s sake, if I’m your accomplice you could let me fucking finish-” Tiffany gave a downright diabolical look to him, patting the waitress’ arm as she mustered the patience. “…They got a couple doctors for roommates.”

“Oh,” His hands came up in a shrug, “Fine, that’s actually better than I thought.

Let’s make a house call. Sure they’d fuckin’ love that at this time of the night.”

Knock on the door.

From inside the house, the sole person in the kitchen looked up from the counter. First at the door an ocean’s away with the desolate living room seeming so vast; then at the clock on the mantle. Finally, a familiar voice hushing on the other side made them sprout up from their seat, discarding the question of a warrant before entering that had been forming in their mind. Even though no one else was on the main floor with them, they couldn’t help sneaking, the heavy quiet making them very aware of their own footsteps.

Opening the door, their eyes fell, a little disheveled in an expected way for this time of the night but growing in moments at the scene before them. Two women holding a man between them, one of them they recognized like the back of their hand. If there wasn’t a dark stain trailing down the man’s torso, they would’ve been quicker to say hello.

“Is everyone home?” The waitress asked, giving a pointed look from under one of his arms. The courier stammered, “I- They’re…” They looked to one woman, then the other. Finally, the man for only a brief glimpse as they answered more confidently, “They’re downstairs, but I can…Oh my god,come inside.” Forgetting formality, they held the door open.

“Downstairs, like in a basement?” Chucky clarified. Tiffany sighed, “What else could we be talking about, huh? Come on, you’re bleeding all over the porch.”

“Oh yeah, let’s go inside and bleed on the carpet-“ He snarked, his other girlfriend lingering by the door to catch a worrisome glance from the courier. Still, they smirked as she murmured, “I can explain, I promise. Thank you so much. We just couldn’t go to the hospital, you know.”

“Sure, of course.” They assured, nothing else needed to be said as they guided them in. One last look into the street, across it to the cemetery for a beat, then they closed the door behind them.

“Good timing. I had just been up and walking around when you pulled up.” The courier explained, ushering an open jar of peanut butter behind the toaster on the counter, one second upright and another crouched down, opening a drawer where you might expect them to keep the pots. Looking over one shoulder, they offered, “You can take a seat anywhere you’d like, by the way.”

“So, sweets.” Chucky rolled his eyes over to the waitress, and teased, “Do you have multiple pals that happen to be bangin’ a couple doctors, or is this who I think it is? Be honest.” The courier perked up, trying not to smirk. “She’s told you about me?”

Chucky shot a look towards the woman on his left. “All I’m saying is that you told me that you weren’t taking me to the Frankensteins. What do we mean by doctors, exactly?”

The waitress asked, “Do you want to be taken care of without the legal work or not?” and the courier lamented as they set some medical supplies on the counter, “Do we have to word it like that?” The gears continuing to turn in their head as they tore the seal on a bottle of peroxide, they then repeated in a confused tone: “Frankensteins?”

Seeing them busy quickly, even finding a pair of nitrile gloves conveniently stashed with the rest of the supplies and wasting no time to stretch them over their hands, Chucky scoffed, “Well, this whole household’s full of doctors, huh?” They met eyes with him and chirped, “Oh no, I’m a courier for the county, actually.” He gave a look of concern back down to the heavy tear – both through his sweater and doubling down into his skin – above his stomach.

They then hummed, “It’s alright. When you live with people in the business, you learn a little. Believe me, I may not be licensed but I know what I’m doing. I’ve patched up those doctors themselves a few times when they weren’t able to.”

“What, when they burn their hand on the stove or something?” Chucky scoffed, getting a small laugh from the courier. “Sure, or when they stub their toe on a doorframe.” They went along with it, shrugging casually but their smile slightly bent into a disguised grimace.

Chucky sighed, half from the load off he took on a barstool by the counter and half by the return of his humor. “Sure. Just like everyone here, you also know a thing or two about all that necromancy garbo, too. I know a sadist when I see one.”

The courier’s kind eyes grew wide. “Oh, did she tell you about that, or…?” They met eyes again, both confused now. He mumbled out, “…No? No, I was- I was joking, buddy.”

Before they could rewind their terrified expression, a door opening down the hall towards the right side of the house made their head snap towards it. They dropped the gauze from their hands into Tiffany’s lap. She merely watched in shock as the poor thing nearly lost balance shooting around the counter.

“The boys must be in.” Tiffany mused, one hand resuming the work they had been doing but still giving a curious glance towards the doorway where they had slipped out of sight.

Hushed conversation. The courier begging with a quiet, “please” was all they caught before they slipped back around the doorway and cleared their throat so all three people in the kitchen looked over. There were emerging figures from the hall, still shrouded in the deep dark of the corridor but still clear enough to see that one was taller, lankier while the other had a pair of metallic-framed glasses.

“These are friends of mine. They ran into some trouble and just needed the help.” The courier explained, “Friends, these are my partners.” The two men finally followed as they walked back in, the light showing their faces far better. The taller one was quick to react, giving a confused nod before his eyes settled on the blood seeping across the counter, finding the source and immediately softening in stature at the sight, concern making him antsy in how he stood behind the other two. His counterpart was far less disposed to it, still giving a close look to the courier, a raise of the eyebrows when they locked stares in a silent ask of ‘All this, and you brought them inside?’

“Oh, that one’s definitely a freak.” Chucky cringed under his breath, both of his girlfriends slapping hands over their own mouths and then his with the free ones. The courier disregarded it, ignoring the offense from one man by saying his name. “Herbert, Dan. This is a friend I meet up with every Thursday after late runs, and … her partners. Chucky and Tiffany?” Looking in a silent question to the other two just to be safe, both silently greeted in affirmation.

“Sorry about the blood, you guys. I know tricks on how to get it out of linoleum if you need.” Tiffany mentioned to them as both men tried to find their place in the scene unfolding. Dan quickly responded, shaking his head hurriedly and trying to crack an edgeless smile for her, “Oh, we got cleanup down well. I, uh- “ He gestured to the courier, “They get nosebleeds a lot, actually. Don’t you, honey?” Briefly pecking each other on the lips, the courier put a hand to Dan’s lower back and commented, “Yeah, about that. They know we do more than nosebleeds around here.”

“They what?” Herbert turned from the counter, paused in his movement to find some gauze. He even held it close to one shoulder, like he was about to abstain from the entire ordeal, but Dan quickly snatched it from him. Knowing there were more pressing matters, he came around the counter and asked Chucky, “How did you manage something so bloody? At this time of night, too?”

“Believe me, it’s better you don’t ask. What’s important is making sure I don’t die around your boyfriend over there.” Chucky grimaced, earning a suppressed glance from the man.

Herbert snorted at that, the courier cringing to themselves as Dan assured him, “Come on, you’re not doing that. You haven’t lost enough blood to die, I promise.” The courier then added kindly, “You’d need a lot more than that, actually.”

“I’m sure stranger things have happened,” Herbert warned, making Dan finally frown over at him as the courier hissed, “Enough.”

Chucky groaned, “For Christ’s sake, I think I know where this caravan is going. We all kill people, or at least know about the whole murder ordeal, so let’s stop being a bunch of pusses while we have this small talk, huh?”

“Kill people?” Dan echoed, half terrified of the mere mention but trying to disguise it as confusion.

“Oh, murder?” The word stained Herbert’s tongue, like a bad burn, “Is that what you call it?”

The courier scoffed at him, “I didn’t give them that word.” Giving a pointed look back, like they were growing exasperated from the assumptions, they silently resolved the issue and looked back to the others.

“Huh, we seem to know a little more ‘bout each other than I thought. Have you been yapping, too?” Tiffany then asked the waitress, crossing her arms to make the other woman huff, “Not…not anything specific about what you and Chuck do for a living, if that’s what you mean.”

“Well, we can understand now, can’t we?” Herbert piped up again, the courier handing him a pair of gloves as he now joined the small circle forming in the center of the room, “We don’t need to be so discrete: If you must know, I met Daniel in a morgue and the other one sneaking around two nights after they had moved in.” Even though it was a bit rude, the courier seemed tickled by the use of the other one, and when Tiffany noticed with a narrow of her eyes they whispered, “Long story.”

The right man for the job, Dan closed in as the one in charge of patching Chucky up. Herbert watched in a thinly veiled , but was soon distracted by the courier, who mosied over and took his fiddling hands. He gave them a tough look, but it was ignored in favor of peppering a soft kiss to one knuckle, whispering something that made him roll his eyes but finally release the tension in his hands and let them rest on his sides.

He fell far more content with watching, their chin on his shoulder as they mouthed, “God, he’s handsome, isn’t he?” Herbert didn’t respond, but a contemplative glance back over at Dan was all the courier needed to smile a little. They met eyes with the waitress, and they couldn’t help but feel some sort of strangely placed perfection in how they acted with the two misfits that had emerged from the depths of this strange little house in the middle of some desolate valley of silence and almost crypt-like complacency.

The waitress then turned her attention back to her own two. Tiffany had been idly speaking with Dan, but as soon as the awful gash in Chucky’s side was no longer visible under a healthy layer of gauze she was looking at him.

Dan finally gave them space, nodding one last time before walking over to the sink to wash his hands, meeting the other two there. Putting a hand on his shoulder, the waitress grinned as they shared a kiss themselves as Tiffany huffed, “Very nice work, Dan. My man’s almost good as new. If only you could fix that clunky chip on his shoulder.” Chucky made a face, and muttered, “Keep talking like that, and I’m running away with this one.” The waitress giggled, slapping him on the shoulder playfully as he pulled her into the two of them, giving her a kiss as well. A dim thought fell over her, and her smile faded as she murmured, “Well, now we just need to scrap the body that’s still in the car.”

There was a plastic clatter on the counter over by the sink, the triad looking at them while Dan slowly turned off the water. “You guys brought the body?” The courier gasped, and Chucky shrugged, “What, were we supposed to leave it out in the open with our fingerprints all over it?”

Tiffany then pointed out, “Well, we’re by a cemetery, we can just find a hole in the ground and take care of it.” She looked at Dan, who was shooting a gaze to the living room with the window pointing towards the graveyard. “You guys know a good spot for that, I suppose?”

“Body disposal?” Dan murmured, letting one of his dry hands slip around the courier’s hip, having them fit snug against him. Chucky jutted his chin towards him. “What, are any of you gonna say something?”

Tiffany then sighed, “Whether it’s burying the guy, dissolvin’ him in a bathtub like you see in those over-the-top crime shows…I dunno, we just need it gone one way or another, so we all don’t go to jail.” The courier gave a careful look to the hem of their shirt, streaked a bit with blood that had been lingering on someone’s hand while they had brushed past them.

Finally, Dan offered, “Well…we can help with that, too. I-If you want, I mean- we know how difficult…” Listening to him stumble, the courier’s arm came up to press their fingers into his back in mute support, “It can be to get rid of evid- Bodies, all of that stuff.” He finally swallowed his last thoughts, looking down at the tile floor with an almost ill look on his face.

Herbert stopped rubbing the smudges from his glasses, placing them back on his face. When he got another uncertain glance from the waitress, he then mused more to his partners than them with an amused tone.

“Yes, I think that can be arranged.”

Tiffany beamed, “Great, so it’s a double date?”

The courier looked over at the waitress, and instead of anxiety, confusion, worry… There was a glimmer of mischief on the way they pursed their lips. It was more to hide a smirk than to express discomfort, and the waitress had to put a hand over their mouth to hide the matching smile.

It was dangerous; they had a match made in Hell and they weren’t sorry about it.

[numberonepeacock]

HUGtto! Pretty Cure Characters as Mobians

🩷📣🌸💙🪽👩‍⚕️💛👩🏼‍✈️⛸️❤️💜🎤🎸👶🏼🐹

Cures:

Hana Nono/Cure Yell - Magenta Squirrel/Light Pink Squirrel

Pretty Cure of High Spirit

Hana is short for her age to the point that she looks almost child-like

Dreams of becoming a stylish and mature big sister figure

Saaya Yakushiji/Cure Ange - Navy Blue Dove/Bright Blue Dove

Pretty Cure of Wisdom

Was a famous child actor

Homare Kagayaki/Cure Étoile - Arctic Fox (has yellow hair)/Bright Yellow Arctic Fox

Pretty Cure of Strength

Is a figure skater

Emiru Aisaki/Cure Macherie - Auburn Nightingale/Platinum Blonde Nightingale

Pretty Cure of Love

Daughter of the Aisaki Corporate runners

Ruru Amour/Cure Amour - Lilac Jackal/Pale Lavender Jackal

Pretty Cure of Love

A former part-timer in the Azababu branch office of the Criasu Corporation

She is an android who soon developed a human heart when gathering information on the Cures

Faires:

Hugtan - Mobian Squirrel Baby Cure Spirit

A mysterious baby who fell from the sky, along with her guardian, Hariham Harry, while being chased by the Criasu Corporation

She used to be a Pretty Cure named Cure Tomorrow, who reverted into her current form when she traveled to the present

After returning to the future it is revealed that she is actually Hana's daughter and her real name is Hagumi

Harry Hariham - Hamster Cure Flicky/Red Hamster

He is a hamster and the caretaker of Hugtan

His role is to guide the Cures

Harry can transform into an amazingly handsome boy

Magical Allies:

Mother Heart - Winged Lioness

Is the second oldest of Vanessa’s sisters and the Goddess of Time and Love.

She guards the each world’s eleven Mirai Crystals and guards Mobius from evil.

Villians:

George Kurai - Black Swan

The company president.

George dreams of creating a world where everyone is eternally happy. To achieve his goal, George sends out his subordinates to get the Mirai Crystals.

In the original timeline he was married to Hana but a tragedy fell upon her, which became a catalyst for his actions. His unwillingness to repeat the tragic events involving the Hana from his timeline drives his ambitions, taking extreme actions to ensure that younger Hana won't suffer anymore.

Listol - Blue Caviidae/Gray Hamster Flicky

He works for the Criasu Corporation, where he is the president's secretary.

Listol is actually a hamster flicky just like Harry.

Bicine - Light Gray Weasel/Grayish Brown Hamster Flicky

He is a young man who is part of the Criasu Corporation, and works at the Azababu branch as a client specialist.

He used to be locked up in a cell inside the Corporation for his ferocity until Listol released him.

Bicine and Harry used to be partners who both worked for Criasu until Harry decided to quit.

Bicine is actually a hamster flicky just like Harry.

When he returns to the future he reverts to the age of a baby.

Doctor Traum - Gray Jackal

He is an old man who was a senior from the Criasu Corporation and the Counselor in the Azababu branch office.

Doctor Traum was originally a happy man with a lovely daughter back in his younger days. Unfortunately, a tragedy happened and contributed to the loss of his daughter.

He then joined George Kurai's alliance and became one of the early members George had recruited. Many years later, Traum created a female android whom he named Ruru Amour, in a way to ease his agony of losing his beloved child.

Nonetheless, Ruru was defiant and unable to comprehend the instructions he gave to her. He even once regretted to program Ruru to grow freely because of all the troubles she had brought and her inability to understand humans. He ultimately decided to enlist her as a part-timer for Criasu Corporation and distanced from the android girl ever since.

Gelos - Dark Green Fennec Fox

She is an executive in the Azababu branch office who is often flanked by her bodyguards, JinJin and Takumi.

When she returns to the future she becomes a young girl.

JinJin - Grayish Pink Leopard

One of Gelos' faithful servants and butlers.

He used to being "wage slave" that worked in Criasu Corporation.

After his purification he becomes a construction worker.

When he returns to the future he becomes a schoolchildren with Gelos and Charaleet.

Takumi - Sliver Gray Cheetah

One of Gelos' faithful servants and butlers.

He used to being "wage slave" that worked in Criasu Corporation.

After his purification he becomes a construction worker.

When he returns to the future he becomes a schoolchildren with Gelos and Charaleet.

Daigan - Black Oryx

He is an imposing man who works for the Criasu Corporation as head of the Azababu branch office.

When he returns to the future he has become Saaya's nursing assistant.

Papple - Dark Blue Serval Cat

She is a woman who works for the Criasu Corporation as section chief in the Azababu branch office.

Charaleet - Bleached Blonde Sea Turtle

He is a charming and good-looking young man and worked for the Criasu Corporation as a chief clerk in the Azababu branch office.

When he returns to the future he becomes a young boy.

Family:

Shintarou Nono - Brown Chipmunk

Hana’s father.

Sumire Nono - Auburn Squirrel

Hana's mother.

She works as a reporter.

Kotori Nono - Dark Magenta Chipmunk

Hana's younger sister.

Is in elementary school.

In the future Kotori has become a cheerleading coach.

Sousuke Anno - Gray Squirrel

Hana's late grandfather.

Tanpopo Anno - Pearl Pink Panda

Hana's grandmother, who runs a traditional Japanese sweets shop called Tanpopo House.

Shuji Yakushiji - Dark Blue Pigeon

Saaya's father.

He takes care of the housework while Reira is working, he is good at cooking.

Reira Yakushiji - Dove

Saaya's mother.

Is a very famous actress.

Chitose Kagayaki - Polar Bear

Homare’s mother.

Mogumogu - Puppy Flicky

Is Homare's rescued puppy.

Haidon Aisaki - White Kingfisher

Emiru's father.

Is responsible for running the Aisaki Corporate, along with his wife, Miyako Aisaki.

Miyako Aisaki - Auburn Nightingale

Emiru's mother.

Is responsible for running the Aisaki Corporate, along with her husband, Haidon Aisaki.

Masato Aisaki - Brown Kingfisher

Emiru's older brother and a student at L'Avenir Academy.

Baku Aisaki - White Kingfisher

Emiru's grandfather.

He is also the main CEO of Aisaki Corporate.

He is an old-fashioned and stubborn elderly man, who dislikes changes and is rather unsupportive towards his family.

Supporting People:

Ranze Ichijou - Orange Canary

Ranze is a junior actress, who considers Saaya as her rival.

In the future she has finally achieves her dream career of becoming a successful actress.

Henri Wakamiya - Blonde Arctic Wolf

An old friend of Homare's who is still active as figure skater until.

Umehashi-sensei - Brown Ram

The P.E. teacher and the coach of Kagayaki Homare.

Uchifuji-sensei - Red Fox

Is Hana, Saaya, Homare and Ruru's homeroom teacher.

He later becomes a father to a baby boy after his wife, Yuka gives birth.

Amano Hinase - Black Alligator

He is in the same class as Hana, Saaya, Homare and later Ruru Amour.

He is part of the school's brass band as the trumpet player.

In the future Hinase has achieved his dream of becoming a musician.

Fumito Chise - Brown Sugar Glider

Fumito is in Hana, Saaya, Homare and Ruru's class and is the president of the Cure Yell fan club.

In the future Fumito is Hana's personal secretary at the company that she is the head of.

Aki Momoi - Reddish-Brown Alpaca

She is a classmate of Hana, Saaya, Homare and Amour, and close friends with Tokura Junna.

In the future both Aki and Junna become television presenters in the future.

Junna Tokura - Brown Llama

She is a classmate of Hana, Saaya, Homare and Amour, and close friends with Momoi Aki.

She is also the head prefect of L'Avenir Academy.

In the future both Junna and Aki become television presenters in the future.

Yone - Light Violet Red Panda

Is Anno Tanpopo's old friend and a regular of Tanpopo's sweet shop.

She originally complains that Tanpopo's sweets no longer have the same quality as before, but actually worries about Tanpopo's health and wants to help her.

She later talks things out with Tanpopo, and begins helping out at Tanpopo's shop afterwards.

——————————————————————————————————

Previously: 👩‍🍳🎂 | Next: 💫🔭

Masterpost of AU: Jewel Sonicure AU Masterpost

[midnightcaptions]

What are your top ships in Soul Eater?

Thanks for the ask! SoMa is my vicodin. I need a regular dose to keep the agonies at bay.

I don't think too much about the rest beyond I would stick Maka with almost anyone, but the runner up would have to be Black Star/Maka. I just love the chemistry and how they interact, and that sorta unrequited rivalry thing on Maka's part. lol Which the same could be said for Kid/Star I suppose but as Maka's my favorite I tend to favor Star/Maka, with the bonus of they basically canonically grew up together, or at least in proximity.

3rd place is probably a touchy one? But I actually like the potential of Crona/Ragnarok, unhealthy or otherwise, Crona being one of the few who can handle Ragnarok's brutishness. There's some things Ragnarok says and does that makes me feel like he's got a soft spot for Crona too, like praising them for punching him and wanting to be praised too.

Others that feel natural that I'm always pleased to see or ponder is Tsubaki/Black Star, Stein and Spirit chillin' in tha hot tub, Harvar pining for Ox, and Stein and Medusa being madly devious together.

[lollytea]

Ok I’ve had this thought in my head for a while. Broke: Hunter blushing in ASIAS was unnecessary and adds nothing to the episode. Woke: Hunter blushing in ASIAS means he instantly falls for Willow. Bespoke: Hunter blushing is actually just him being touch-starved and not knowing how to respond to affection. It’s only as his friendships within the hexsquad develop that he realizes that he feels different when the affection comes from Willow and it takes him a while to piece it together

Personally I believe that the little ASIAS blush is intended as romantic. Like I actually didn't think it was at all until Labyrinth Runners when Hunter's crush became obvious. Before then I fully believed that Hunter was just overwhelmed and touched that Willow still considered him a friend after everything he put her through and clearly wasn't used to being treated like that. But now, with the point hunlow is currently at, it's obvious the crew added that little detail for rewatch value. So you'd look back on it and be like "Ah. This is where it begins."

But you're right. He is touch starved. He doesn't know how to respond to affection. But I definitely think, in addition to that, he felt something for Willow in that moment that he didn't really understand. It was just a funny little flip in his stomach. Hunter was too stunned to do much analysing. He just kinda froze and was maybe a little confused about why he froze.

But then Darius opened his mouth and drew the attention away from the weird feeling before Hunter could think about it too hard.

Hunter didn't fall here. There was an itty bitty crush gradually sneaking up on him throughout the episode that he hasn't really evaluated yet. The little blush is just another prickle of it. Like very subtle symptoms of an illness that you barely notice at first. And then all of a sudden, WHAM, you are on the fucking floor writhing in agony.

[womaninwinter]

Greetings. For the AO3 Wrapped thing: 3, 5, 18, 20, 28, 30!

Bless you Daf ❤️

3. Work I’m most proud of:

Choosing is agony BUT it’s gotta be From the Cutting Room Floor at the end of the day. First because it’s really rare for me to manage something so compact (long rambling WIPs are more my style) and second because I like how I wrote Lucy’s voice so much – I think it’s the closest I’ve gotten to the tone of the books.

Runner up is probably Crushed, because it’s the first fic that I ever sat down and tried to plot out, and the first time I’ve ever collaborated with someone else (my beloved @itripandfallalot), which has been a stretch for me, but like in a good, “actually I don’t have to do everything by myself” way.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

Definitely Sanctum Rosarium. I started writing it more or less as a joke because I didn’t think anyone but me would be interested in an explicitly, non-ironically Catholic fic. I thought the people who asked for it would cool off quickly once they saw the reality. But even though it is (unsurprisingly) my least popular fic, it still gets a lot of love even from people that aren’t even Christian. So that was a shocker.

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Hrm. All of them lol. I think actually Flo is pretty hard but she hasn’t given me much trouble because I haven’t written her much 😅 Lockwood is a struggle because he’s very different from me, even though I spend all my time projecting on him. In fact, the projection is what makes him a challenge. It’s very easy to just make him a mouthpiece for my own feelings, so I have to keep correcting myself as I write him.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

Again, probably cutting room floor. Just picture me doing the narcissus gazing into a pond thing with that fic.

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Am I being super boring if I say Cutting Room again?? I also love Gutted and The Intruder, because errr maybe I am exorcising a lot of my demons in those fics, don’t read into that pls. And of course, there’s Crushed, which I adore because it’s given me a chance to work with the ultra cool and wonderful Shelby.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Actually the biggest surprise was less to do with the writing itself and more that I met such amazing people through it. Legit has changed my life meeting you guys ❤️

[samcat0925]

Favorite storylines any of the actors liked doing? Who ends up playing King?

Luz's favorite storyline was in Hallow mind as it was Luz trying to show an abuse victim about who their abuser really is while also figuring out that Philip and Belos were one in the same which is something that would break any heroine, to know that you unknowingly helped the villain which led them to hurt so many people would be heartbreaking.

Hunter's favorite storyline is either Eclipse Lake or session 3, episode 1. Either because he got to act totally unhinged due to being a traumatized teen who had been abused all of his life and was about to fail his abuser for the second time or because Hunter got to discover who he is as a person and having to pretend to be Belos possessing Hunter's body was fun for him to do.

Amity's favorite storyline was also Eclipse Lake because it was Amity seeing who she could have ended up if she hadn't met Luz and continued to follow her mother's orders.

Gus's favorite storyline is either between Through the Looking Glass Ruins or Labyrinth Runners. They both showed Gus's insecurities and that he was able to overcome them with the help of someone who he previously had a hard time connecting with aka Matt and Hunter. It really showed that Gus wasn't just the comedic relief character but actually had much more depth despite being one of the youngest in the group.

Willow's favorite storyline was Any Sport in a Storm because it was her character showing that she wasn't the scared timid girl that she used to be.

Skara's favorite storyline is also ASIAS because it showed that she actually got to be a better person. It also gave her an opportunity to hang out with Willow more.

King's and the Collector's favorite storyline was King's tide because for King, it was very emotional storyline for him to do, especially the ending where King tells Luz thanks for being his big sister while for the Collector, he was just having fun being a chaotic god who got to yeet Belos into a wall for betraying him.

Belos' favorite storyline was Elsewhere And Elsewhen because that's when you didn't really know that Philip is evil but got the sense that something is off about him which was fun for him to do since he likes playing a secret villain that the hero as well as the audience doesn't know is the villain and thinks that they're the good guy.

Alador, Edric and Emira's favorite story line was Reaching out because it showed Edric's insecurity side as well as the twins being their own person while it gave Alador's character a chance to see how much his children were suffering while he just never listened to it so he can improve as a person as well as a father.

Matt's favorite storyline was Labyrinth Runners because while he didn't get to be in it much, it had his favorite scene with his character which was Matt being so anger about the fact that he couldn't be in the illusion track that he yelled, "Mother of Titen!" before ripping the sleeves off of his uniform and in the next scene, he bashfully taking his ripped sleeves and putting them back on after he was told that there was a way for him to keep being in the illusion track. It implied that Matt was really looking for to being in the illusion track so being told that he couldn't be a part of it really upset him.

Eda and Lilith's favorite storyline was Agony of a Witch because of the fight scene as well as Eda's struggle with the curse.

Raine's favorite storyline was Eda's Requiem as that was the first time you could tell that despite the two not talking to each other in probably years, there were clearly signs of old feelings and that the two of them really care about one another.

Darius's favorite storyline was Any Sport in a Storm because you can see his character going from thinking that Hunter is just an obedient tool from Belos to Hunter is just a kid who needs to taught that the Belos is acting isn't good and that it's okay to want what's best for yourself.

King's design is made with special effects as well as CGI and King's voice is played by a kid that's one of the staff's.

[infinitethree]

Aaaay an update, fuckin' finally, it's only been Forever!

Next fic draws near. The first part of the last chapter is already done, as is the very end, which just means I need to fill in the middle in a way that suitably sets up the next fic.

In my desire to get to said next fic, I decided to cut my losses (and try to keep some of my sanity) by yeeting a section I decided didn't fit. It was what I first tried at the start of this chapter, but I decided it was too much, too fast-- Daz would rather be a BIT more cautious.

Consider it loosely canon. The parts about his past and feelings are true, the actual scene (if it happens) would happen after the end of this fic & with some tweaks.

>But, well, he needs to suck it up. He's decided to take Theo up on a previous offer to join in family dinners. It's a perfect chance to gather more information about the server from sources other than Theo and occasionally Atlas.

And, well– he’s been able to hear them up until now. Not words, but he can more or less guess the general vibe of the meals.

Chaos. Usually that chaos involves screaming and one or more fights, at least according to the death messages that pop up on his shiny, fancy new com.

Still– it's been what feels like an eternity since he really had a chance to have a meal with others.

Sometimes he eats with Theo or Atlas, but they both have lives. Atlas especially seems to be doing pretty damn well for himself– or, at least, is seriously dedicated to his craft.

Fuck only knows if that’s abnormal. It's not really like Daz spent enough time around Techno to have a good grasp on much of anything about him.

At one point, he had been so desperate to be accepted by his so-called brother that he adopted the color of his cloak. It felt wrong, but at the same time– maybe it would have been worth it. 

Maybe, if it had gotten more than a few passing words on the rare occasion he could be bothered to be around him, it would have justified what he now realizes is unthinkably offensive. Forcibly giving yourself some else’s claim is– it’s practically trying to rip open their heart and set up shop there. It’s refusing an admin’s agency so deeply and so profoundly that you deny them even the choice of liking someone or not.

But didn’t matter. Techno never noticed. 

Over the years, being so invisible got under Daz’s skin and left a festering wound. If Techno wouldn't even acknowledge him enough to reject him, then fuck it– Daz would steal his color and make it his own.

And now he can’t even stand the sight of it.

At least making his hoodies– a different pattern than what he had made for Dream, of course, but it felt more natural wearing one than not– gives him plenty to focus on. The construction is easy enough, but the painstaking embroidery gives him something to channel his restlessness into.

But that’s only really going to matter as much as he might need to pretend to be sad if one gets ruined by the anarchy at the meal.

Honestly, Daz can't deny he's curious about the other members of the family. Daedalus only in that single traumatic incident, and ditto for Achilles…but he knows there's two more.

The first is Orpheus, the nightmarish Tubbo-but-he’s-Wilbur he’d heard about a few times. Atlas’ twin, evidently, which cleared up why Atlas looked just like Daz’s ex-elder brother.

And, similarly to Wilbur, Orph likes music. He’s on some sort of server-runner thing, which sounds like a terrible idea. There’s no way he’s not causing someone, somewhere, deep and unending agony.

Daz, having had his hands full with the existing soul-rending stuff, wasn’t terribly eager to add on to it by facing down any version of Wilbur. A rat is a rat is a rat, and that particular rat would fuck with his head, what precious little sleep he’s been able to get, and probably kick him in the nuts for the hell of it.

So, the one time Theo mentioned meeting the bastard, Daz had put on the ‘this is a deeply traumatic topic but I’m too scared to say that’ act he’s gotten so good at using.

Worked like a charm. Daz has yet to get another offer to meet him.

The other brother is another Dream, the second youngest. Perseus, known for feats of cleverness and agility in a long-running sport of some kind. Given even accidental orders were shredding Daz’s soul, he wasn’t terribly keen to push the idea of seeing the recordings.

And, Theo had told him with an air of pride, a huge nerd who mostly competes to fund his expensive hobbies.

There was something about collector's editions and table top books, neither of which Daz had been curious enough about to question further.

But, well, now he gets to meet this fabled final Was-Taken brother for himself. 

Rather than sit and stew in his anxiety about the whole thing, though, he opts to arrive early and help Day.

As much as Daz doesn’t particularly like the man, he's enough of a known variable that he can be tolerated.

No matter how he ends up resolving the fundamental issue of trying to kill people in a world where there's no limit on respawning, being trusted by Day is going to help him out.

He hesitates just before stepping around the corner and in sight of the kitchen. Day doesn't stop what he’s doing, or even look over at him. “Need something?”

Daz flinches a little. “Uhm– I just…” he fidgets with his sleeves, and mumbles, “I– I feel bad, because I shouldn’t make you cook for me.”

That makes Day pause. “...I don't mind cooking, and I usually make enough for leftovers anyway.” “But I'm not your family, and I haven't earned it,” Daz protests.

Much like…pretty much every implication he makes of this nature, he has to fight down the bile that threatens to rise.

Day’s mouth forms a grim line. “You don't need to earn food.” “Good food is for good people,” he argues.

Innit oh-so-helpfully makes a retching noise in the back of his head.

There's a long, tired sigh. “That's– so incredibly fucked up, but I'm not the person who you need to unpack that with. If I had an problem with cooking for other people, I wouldn’t be feeding the dozen or so people outside of Summer Hills that regularly drop in.”

Daz frowns, brows knitting. “But they’re not bad,” he argues. “If they’re welcome, they have to be good. Otherwise they wouldn’t be welcome. And since I’m– since I’m not welcome, I– I know I’m–”

He folds his arms around his waist, eyes trained on the floor. He’s breathing like he’s fighting a panic attack, shoulders hunched and shaking.

And then Day ever so gently, giving him time to pull away, folds his wings around him.

“Whatever you were told,” he says, voice soft but sincere in a way that burns, “if it was true at all, it’s not true here. You’ve been through a lot, Daz. I don’t blame you for being scared, for thinking you’re the one to blame for everything. It’s not true. As much as it absolutely fucking sucks, sometimes other people are just…monsters.”

For a second, it makes him long for a version of reality where his family was whole, loving, and truly welcomed him.

Fuck, that almost makes him feel bad about planning to kill Day.

Daz sniffs, stuffing that guilt down with all the other things he’s repressed. “...You’re nice. You’re not as scary as I thought you’d be.”

A soft snort escapes the winged man. “Thanks.” He pulls back, leaving Daz almost wanting to cling to the pretty lie.

“If you’re willing to help, I’d appreciate some help with cooking,” Day offers. He nods a few times, letting a tiny smile peek through. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

[jjorbles]

(Repost) This is not my Wonder Woman

Note: This article was originally posted July 28th, 2014 on the Agony Booth, which I used to write for. Since that site is sadly no longer with us, I’m reposting my old articles here.

So as you probably know by now, the image above is the new Wonder Woman, as she will appear in her first (official) theatrically-released motion picture role. It’s pretty much exactly what I expected her to look like. The design is focused predominantly on her Greek warrior origins. The image is meant to sell her first and foremost as badass and intimidating. Surprisingly, despite details like her bandolier leaning toward utilitarianism, Wonder Woman still apparently fights evil in high heels, which will probably rub some people the wrong way*. It’s hard to tell from this sepia-toned image, but it looks like there’s next to no color in the outfit; dark brown, bronze, and a dull silver seem to have replaced the traditional American flag color scheme, which is new. Presumably, the idea is to make her more in sync with the muted color scheme of the film, which will likely carry over from Man of Steel. Overall, it does nothing for me, but it’s not a horrible costume. Gal Gadot certainly looks the part, and it’s actually quite faithful to the spirit of who Wonder Woman has been for the last twenty years or so. The problem is, it’s not my Wonder Woman.

Wonder Woman, as a character and as an icon, means a great deal to me. She is by far my favorite comic book superhero, and has been for a long time, so much so I once made a makeshift costume of her to wear when I was five. Seriously, I did that. I was a weird kid.

So naturally, I have pretty strong feelings about Wonder Woman. Which is not easy for a character who’s had such a strange and tumultuous existence. One of the reasons I love her is that she has by far one of the most bizarre and fascinating histories and origins of any superhero. And while that’s a source of her charm, it’s also her greatest weakness. Despite being inarguably the most recognizable female superhero of all time, she remains strangely obscure for someone so iconic. Her image is universal, yet her character almost unknown. Her media presence is constant, yet strangely few adaptations of her comics exist compared to her male counterparts. She’s managed to stay in constant publication for 73 years now, yet unlike Superman, Batman, or Spider-Man, she’s almost never had more than one concurrently-running title at a time.

Why is this? Why has Wonder Woman traveled such a rockier path than other superheroes? Why does everyone know who Batman and Superman are, but know very little about Wonder Woman beyond her name and costume?

There are a lot of complicated reasons for this, but one way or another, most of them have to do with one simple fact: she’s a woman. No one likes to admit it, but even in this day and age, the comic book industry at its best has an... awkward relationship with women. Study the history of any female character who’s been in publication for a decade or more, and things get weird and often uncomfortable.

For example, Lois Lane, the most well known woman in superhero fiction outside of Wonder Woman, started out strong, willful, and career-minded, one of the first to break the mold of how damsels in distress were meant to act. She had agency and goals of her own outside of her relationship with Superman. And keep in mind, this was the 1940s. But then the ‘50s came around, and Lois’s character turned towards an outright psychotic obsession with marrying Superman. The pages of Superman’s Girlfriend Lois Lane are packed with bizarre, misogynist stories that frame Lois as a shrill harpy constantly scheming to entrap Superman into marriage and failing, like some matrimonial version of a Road Runner cartoon. Things have gotten better for Lois lately, though they do have a tendency to write her as a gun-toting commando ninja, because that’s obviously the only way a woman can be empowered. It seems like the writers are constantly overcompensating for Lois’s perceived status as a damsel in distress.

What’s the disconnect? Well, for the majority of its history, comics books have been written, drawn, edited, and published almost exclusively by men, and while that’s becoming less and less the case, male attitudes still tend to dominate the industry. And male creators tend to overthink their female characters at best, and at worst, imprint their own warped views of the opposite sex onto them. This is especially true in Wonder Woman’s case. In fact, Wonder Woman comics are so predictably influenced by changing attitudes towards women that you can actually see the last 70 years of the feminist movement reflected in her publication history.

You remember the feminist movement, right? That thing that apparently we don’t need anymore? Yes, this is going to be a bit of a rant, but unfortunately there’s no way to talk about Wonder Woman without talking about feminism. The two are essentially joined at the hip. The character was created by a feminist based on his own radical gender politics, and essentially co-opted by the feminist movement as their mascot. Basically, as Wonder Woman is perceived, so is feminism perceived, and vice-versa.

Any given era of Wonder Woman comics in some way reflects what the popular image of a “strong woman” was at the time. The ‘40s through the ‘60s saw Wonder Woman’s alter ego Diana Prince as the mousy, secretly-overqualified secretary pining away for a man who barely notices her. You can see shades of everything from Bewitched to Woman of the Year in early Wonder Woman. The Robert Kanigher era especially was all about Diana apologetically emasculating her boyfriend Steve Trevor.

The ‘70s briefly saw her morph into a fashionable, liberated “modern woman”, a powerless kung-fu detective with more than a little of Emma Peel in her. 1980s Wonder Woman had more of a Princess Leia vibe, as a regal, dignified ambassador with no steady romance in her life. Finally, the ‘90s began the rise of “Straw Feminist Wonder Woman”.

What do I mean by “Straw Feminist Wonder Woman”? Well, do you remember that episode of The Powerpuff Girls called “Equal Fights”?

It was about a costumed lady bank robber named Femme Fatale, who justifies her crimes to the Powerpuff Girls by citing gender discrimination against women, and the fact that all men are jerks. She essentially has a persecution complex: as a member of an oppressed minority group, anything she does if justified in her eyes. Femme Fatale was designed as an archetypical Straw Feminist: man-hating, irrational, and abrasive. While not in the least bit subtle, “Equal Fights” was an admirable attempt to educate its audience on the true purpose of feminism. Unfortunately, the episode ended up being strangely prophetic. Except, in the real world, Femme Fatale won.

And this is where I get ranty. Feminism has had a bit of a PR problem over the last twenty years, which has recently come to a head. There’s a new online movement calling itself “Woman Against Feminism”, involving women declaring they “no longer need feminism”. In some ways, the movement has admirable goals. Many of its members clearly have their hearts in the right place. They want equality and understanding between the sexes, and simply don’t understand that that is exactly what feminism is about. (A few of them, of course, are just plain slut-shaming or belittling the suffering of others, but I’m just going to ignore them. Let’s talk about the actual problem here.)

This one image for me sums up the entire problem here. For some people, the word “feminism” has come to mean something else. What a “feminist” actually is is someone who believes in equality between the sexes. That’s it. That’s all there is to it. If you believe women should be allowed to vote, you’re a feminist. If believe women should have control over their own bodies, equal pay, and the right to make their own financial choices, then you are a feminist. It doesn’t matter if you choose to self-identify as one*, those are the ideals the movement is defined by. That has not changed. Only the popular conception of the movement has changed.

[*And since this always manages to come up, yes, there’s something to be said for the idea that we shouldn’t need the word “feminism” anymore. Yes, I also saw and agree with Joss Whedon’s excellent Equality Now speech. Yes, it would be great if gender equality was at the same place that racial equality is now in the national conversation, where we no longer need a word for “not racist” because not being racist is just assumed to be common sense. But for feminism, we’re not there yet. And as the video below points out, removing the word “feminist” from the discussion isn’t helping, because it’s not actually changing the public discourse. It’s just avoiding the issue, and steering the topic away from gender.]

Laci Green articulates things in this video far better than I ever could, but basically, society has somehow become convinced that feminism is some kind of extreme female superiority agenda rather than a simple call for gender equality. Feminism is a dirty word, conjuring up images of shrill, unattractive harpies who hate all men and shame good-looking women purely out of jealousy. People feel the need to distance themselves publicly from the movement in order to be taken seriously when speaking about gender issues. Celebrities like Katy Perry and Shailene Woodley and Lana Del Rey have gone on record claiming to not be feminists. Even Wonder Woman herself fell prey to this recently, when the new creative team set to take over her book said in an interview that they didn’t want her to be feminist.

If I may steer the conversation away from Wonder Woman for a moment: Whenever the topic of “when did feminism go so wrong?” comes up, people always want to play the blame game. Usually people fault the movement itself for going off-message. The notion is feminists let too many extremists join the movement and give it a bad name. And I really don’t think that’s true, mostly because there are so few actual well-known feminist extremists to point to. Usually Andrea Dworkin’s name gets thrown out, and people are always quick to pounce on the Tumblr community. But in my experience, feminist extremists are a very small minority, and not a very vocal one compared to the many, many positive feminist voices out there. No, the reason feminism’s image was so easily distorted is that as much as we hate to admit it, this is still a man’s world. The patriarchy is slowly losing its grip, but it’s still in power.

Men don’t like to admit how much we still benefit from a patriarchal society, and when confronted with reality, we become defensive. We’ve somehow convinced ourselves that sexism is more or less “over”. It isn’t. Not even close. Women still receive less pay for equal work because of their gender. Less than fifty years ago, it was still legal for men to rape their wives. Women still face constant obstacles when trying to make decisions about their bodies. They still (rightly) fear coming forward after being raped because of the likelihood they will somehow be blamed for it. And yet, we often manage to overlook all this.

We’ve decided things are more or less equal now, and anyone still fighting against sexism is perceived to be overreacting, and fighting a war that ended long ago. No one likes to be blamed for the sins of their fathers, but unfortunately, we’re living in a world still dealing with the consequences of those sins, and blaming the victims isn’t helping. It’s making us culpable, and it needs to stop.

But I was talking about “Straw Feminist Wonder Woman”, wasn’t I? As I said before, this image of feminism as bitter and anti-men has been the popular conception since the early ‘90s, and not coincidentally, this is roughly around the time Wonder Woman suddenly got very, very angry. To be fair, everybody was scowling in comics in the ‘90s, but Batman and Superman were scowling because “DARKNESS! NO PARENTS!” Whereas Wonder Woman started scowling because “Ugh, men are dirt, amirite ladies? I’m gonna go back to my island of butch militant lesbians because I hate men so much!”

As previously stated, comics have an awkward relationship with women, due to them being mostly written by men. Men, many of whom aren’t really feminists, and in the case of Wonder Woman, find themselves tasked with writing a character who’s almost literally the living embodiment of feminism itself. Therefore, they always find themselves falling back on what they think a feminist is. She hates all men, or at least looks down on them, and overreacts to every sexual or romantic proposition, because how else are we to know that she’s a modern, independent woman that doesn’t need a man? She’s extremely aggressive, and prone to anger and violence, because how else are we to know that she’s a strong woman who can kick just as much ass as a man?

Trying to distance Wonder Woman from feminism isn’t new either. In the late ‘80s, a new element of the Wonder Woman mythos was added: The Amazons of Bana-Mighdall, a splinter faction of Amazons living in secret in the mortal world. How they’re used varies from writer to writer, but generally their purpose is to provide deliberate straw feminists to contrast against the less extreme, accidental straw feminist Wonder Woman. They’re the man-hating extremists who want to reap bloody vengeance against anyone with a penis. They’re basically there to say, “See? Wonder Woman’s not that kind of feminist! She’s totally cool with dudes! These are the man-hating dykes you so fear and despise!” It’s understandable why the writers feel the need to include them, but they have the effect of delegitimizing Wonder Woman’s position rather than clarifying it.

It may seem like I’ve gone completely off-topic here, but the point I’ve been building towards is that people don’t understand Wonder Woman because people don’t understand feminism. Her comics have always been subject to the changing image of feminism and her writer’s skewed perspective on feminism, so much so that she’s never managed to remain consistent long enough for people to get to know her. Our site’s own Sofie Liv posted an excellent video essay to that effect, putting forth the well-reasoned assertion that maybe Wonder Woman just doesn’t have a character.

And I can’t really argue with that. If nothing important or character-defining about Wonder Woman remains consistent from writer to writer, then what argument can be made about her character? It’s a question I honestly don’t have an answer to. On the one hand, I believe in Death of the Author. I believe that characters in fiction take on a life of their own, independent of the influence of their creators.

Batman has evolved far beyond the original vision of Bob Kane and Bill Finger. The current Superman certainly isn’t what Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster first imagined. On the other hand, I also don’t believe characters are completely defined by popular perception. If that were the case, Batman would be a bloodthirsty Punisher knockoff, based on what a lot of his fans seem to want. So what really defines a character like Wonder Woman, who’s been around forever, but has had so many completely incompatible interpretations?

I don’t have an answer for you. I don’t know if there is a direct answer for that. Maybe it’s all subjective. Maybe who a character is to you personally is all that really matters, and if other people share and enjoy your vision, then great. I can only tell you what Wonder Woman means to me, and unlike Superman or Batman, it comes almost entirely from the mind of her creator.

Outside of Spider-Man, I’m not sure there’s a superhero as popular as Wonder Woman who was as fully formed as she was in her first appearance. William Moulton Marston was one of the most interesting men ever to write for comics, and his vision of Wonder Woman, odd as it may have been, was a fleshed-out, living entity all its own. The seven years’ worth of Wonder Woman comics he wrote before his untimely death remain the highlight of the Golden Age for me.

Wonder Woman was the first notable attempt (to say nothing of success) at creating a female action hero who didn’t need to sacrifice her femininity in order to be powerful. Wonder Woman got to save the day and be the hero with no qualifiers or concessions to male sensitivities. Her stories were almost a complete gender reversal of the superhero formula: In Wonder Woman comics, all the heroes, villains, and otherwise powerful and influential characters were women, including most of Wonder Woman’s rogues’ gallery, while men were usually limited to roles with less agency that were normally occupied by women. Steve Trevor remains one of the only examples of a male damsel in distress.

Marston’s comics were bold and groundbreaking, not to mention nutty as hell and immensely fun. The mythology of Wonder Woman’s world was unique and eye-catching in ways that few comics even today can match. Golden Age Wonder Woman rode giant kangaroos through space, fought seal men and fire warriors from the sun, and rescued WWII soldiers from evil valkyries, all in the name of love and peace.

After Marston left, things got a lot more shaky with regards to Wonder Woman’s “Girl Power”, but the comic itself got no less strange. It was the Silver Age, after all. A strange mix of science fiction and fantasy still remained, and Wonder Woman herself continued to be a mostly peaceful champion of love.

After the reboot in the ‘80s, however, things began to get a lot more conventional, and in my opinion, the poorer for it. Previously, Paradise Island was a wondrous mix of science and magic. They had ancient marble architecture, but communicated with telepathic radios. The invisible jet was one of many unique aircraft. Wonder Woman didn’t just journey through a greatest hits collection of Greek mythology; She travelled to other planets, subterranean worlds, and subatomic universes. The Greek gods themselves would occupy other planets instead of vaguely defined, seemingly earthbound realms. But all of that changed after the reboot.

No longer playing fast and loose with Greek mythology, the comics suddenly began valuing historical accuracy. Paradise Island became Themyscira, devoid of anything remotely fun or interesting. Gone were the giant space kangaroos, replaced with more conventional mythical creatures like pegasi. Gone were the strange space-age gadgets, leaving the Amazons still technologically primitive after thousands of years of immortality. Wonder Woman’s adventures lost their pulp sci-fi edge, confining themselves to the familiar world of Greek myth. Wonder Woman became almost completely earthbound, and those unique elements that remained, like her invisible jet, began to be downplayed.

One of the more subtly subversive changes was that the character’s patron goddess was changed from Aphrodite to Athena. It may seem insignificant, but whatever else she may be (Goddess of Wisdom, Justice, etc.), Athena was still a War Goddess. And war, even justified war as Athena was meant to represent, is not something Wonder Woman should ever be a champion of.

See, whatever else may have changed over the years about Wonder Woman, there’s one thing about her that’s remained consistent enough for her best writers to latch onto: She’s a peacemaker. Always has been. The Marston comics and the Lynda Carter TV show—probably the best and most defining versions of Wonder Woman ever—were both very clear on this. One of the best quotes ever made about the DC Trinity was when Gail Simone said, “When you need to stop an asteroid, you get Superman. When you need to solve a mystery, you call Batman. But when you need to end a war, you get Wonder Woman.”

That’s who she is. She never fights in the name of war, even a just war. War is her enemy. Literally. Her archenemy is Ares, God of War. If there’s one thing Wonder Woman has always been about, it’s preventing conflict. That’s why her signature weapons—her lasso, bracelets, and tiara—are nonlethal and defensive in nature, designed to defend and subdue but never harm. That’s why her patron goddess was the goddess of love. As her theme song says, Wonder Woman’s goal is to “stop a war with love”.

This subtle change in Wonder Woman’s ideology was immediately felt. Wonder Woman wasn’t exactly barbaric at first, but she was definitely more violent, frequently ripping her (admittedly nonhuman and monstrous) enemies apart. But the thing that really cemented Wonder Woman as warlike in readers’ minds was Kingdom Come.

That mini-series featured the image of a sword-wielding Wonder Woman who, at the book’s climax, murdered her human opponent by stabbing him through the chest. That moment was meant to shock and horrify, by showing how far the once noble heroes of the DC Universe had fallen, with the kindest and most nonviolent of them cutting a man in half. The image of Wonder Woman running a man through was meant to feel as wrong as Batman shooting someone. But in a bitter irony, from that moment on, that image would be what defined the popular concept of Wonder Woman.

She’s now frequently seen carrying a sword and other ancient weaponry, her lasso hanging unused from her hip almost as a formality. Heavy, stylized armor is often added onto her costume. Her sisters, the Amazons, have become almost unrecognizable.

Paradise Island was once essentially a highly sexual nunnery, an island of women dedicated to the way of Aphrodite, and the way of love. The whole reason they were on that island to begin with was to escape from the war and violence of Man’s World. Now the modern Themyscira is like an all-girl boot camp, filled with armored, battle-ready Amazons, constantly training and fighting. They act as if they enjoy war and conflict, which completely defeats the whole point of living on a isolated island in the first place. The great Wonder Woman, once a trippy, unique pulp sci-fi heroine, has been reduced to the generic Xena clone that Gal Gadot will apparently be playing onscreen. Because one warrior princess is the same as another, right? No need to go deeper into her character than that!

Look, I like Xena. I like Lucy Lawless. I like badass warrior girls in general. But that's not who Wonder Woman is. It has never been who Wonder Woman is. Wonder Woman is as much like Xena as Ellen Ripley is like Buck Rogers. Yes, they both fight aliens in space, but that’s about where the similarities end. And giving Wonder Woman a sword isn’t just counter to her whole message of love and nonviolence, it actually disempowers her as a character, which is the opposite of what they’re presumably going for.

Giving Wonder Woman weapons and armor implies that she needs weapons and armor, which she never has before. She’s always been able to take on rogue gods with nothing but a lasso, a tiara, and a pair of bracelets. Giving Wonder Woman a sword and armor just because she’s a warrior princess is like giving Superman a raygun and a jetpack because he’s an alien.

But mostly, a lot of the problems with Wonder Woman stem from how every writer approaches her with the idea that she’s somehow broken and in need of repair. She’s too weird, or she’s too political. Whatever the reason, they all feel the need to junk everything and start over. But they never start by asking themselves who Wonder Woman is. They instead ask who she reminds them of. So not only does Wonder Woman become whatever the current version of a “strong woman” is, she takes on incongruous elements from other, more popular superheroes in the hopes that her books will sell. She reminds us of Superman, so let’s give her the power of flight, even though she’s already got that iconic invisible jet. She reminds us of Thor, so let’s put all the focus on her mythological background. She reminds us of Xena, so let’s give her armor and a sword, and have her take joy in battle.

Wonder Woman is not Superman. She’s not Thor, and she’s not Xena. She’s a wholly unique entity. She is Princess Diana, peacemaker, healer, ambassador. She’s the champion of Aphrodite, pledged to end humankind’s suffering and conflict by teaching them how to love. It’s Wonder Woman who won the Tournament of Grace and Wonder, and the right to bring peace and love to Man’s World. It’s Wonder Woman who reformed Baroness Von Gunther, a Nazi war criminal. It’s Wonder Woman who was so pure and honest of heart as to withstand the scorching breath of Drakul Karfang. It’s Wonder Woman who withstood blow after blow from an angry Green Lantern while continuing to hold out her hand in friendship.

She has the strength to crush armies and the heart not to use it. She’s a woman who’s never had to fear any man, and therefore never has reason to hate. She has the strength of women, yes, but also the empathy and gentleness of women. She fights not to divide or punish the sexes, but to unite them. She is kind, empathic, curious, fierce, loving, dominating, and utterly fearless. She’s the greatest superhero who ever lived.

Well, that’s who she is to me, anyway.

[sepublic]

You know another reason why The Owl House doesn’t ‘fit the brand’ for Disney? It’s because TOH doesn’t just celebrate the persecuted but also calls out the persecutors (hence one of its main villains being a white colonizing Puritan with founding father vibes), which is too much for Disney’s milquetoast ‘family values’. They want to appeal to additional markets, without risking ‘alienating’ pre-existing ones by naming them in discussions of prejudice.

TOH is too spicy and openly defiant, it’s not about existing in a neat, accommodating, and palatable manner, but fighting, hence the emphasis on questioning authority, critical thinking, and challenging the status quo. Characters are already doing such a thing well before they or the audience find out about the villain’s doomsday plan, because even without such a plan, the status quo is inherently unsustainable. And it’s a system too topically parallel to a certain real-world one...

It’s hilarious. I remember giving Disney the benefit of the doubt when I saw them allow Enchanting Grom Fright, and its queer rep; Daring myself to think they’ve actually begun to change. Only for Disney to decide to shorten TOH’s run within three weeks of the episode airing; Within two weeks of Wing it like Witches, no less! TOH was officially cut after Agony of a Witch aired, but that’s so soon after two consecutively gay episodes, and I’m sure the decision to shorten a show takes a week or so to finalize and announce to its runners.

[squaretablehold]

what if I posted the end of a fic idea without writing the beginning or the middle.... haha wouldn't that be ridiculous???... hahahaha....Unless. (varré/omc like, twice and neither ends well)

So the background to this is there's been a long standing tension between Varré and Juzan where Juzan thinks Varré could be a great doctor and good man if he'd just stop fucking killing people, and Varré has a crush on Juzan because he's equated love and connection with suffering and Juzan's fucking miserable all the time cause he hates being a white mask.

But then Varré meets a runner named Linden and Linden falls hard for Varré and starts trying to woo him, and Varré's confused by this cause Linden's not dying, why would he want to be around a war surgeon? But they get closer and right as Varré thinks this might be something real Linden fucking dies.

Varré breaks down about it and doesn't really know why and this scene is Juzan coming to comfort him because he's a decent friend.

"You've never lost anyone before have you." Juzan states.

"Don't be ridiculous," Varré snaps, "of course I've lost patients. I'm hardly perfect. Your flattery in this moment is perverse!" Varré sniffles and wipes his nose on the back of his glove as if to drive the point home, shooting Juzan a glare but doing nothing to pull away. The other surgeon lets out a sigh that sounds suspiciously close to a laugh.

"No, I mean you've never lost a loved one before." At that Varré freezes. Love? Did he love Linden? Is that why it feels like someone's carved his heart out and replaced it with caltrops? Juzan's still rubbing soothing circles into his back like he hasn't just shattered Varré's world and the warmth of his hand isn't the only thing stopping him from plummeting into the sky.

"No." Varré feels himself say. "I haven't."

Juzan lets out a long breath, and shifts closer on the cot, wrapping his arm around Varré and pulling him into a partial embrace. The war surgeon hesitates for just a moment before turning and burying his face against Juzan's shoulder. He winds his arms around his squadmate and clings, willing himself not to start weeping again but failing utterly.

"When I was eleven years old my baby sister froze to death."

Varré stills, shocked out of his stifled sobs by the sudden and terrible fact about himself Juzan's just shared.

"That's horrible," Varré mutters, not wanting to pull away but feeling like he ought to.

"Yeah, I thought the whole world was ending at the time, but then when I was thirteen both my uncle and my older brother got drafted into the army. We'd get the courtesy wood ash for them one after another the next year." Juzan continues softly, like it's a secret he doesn't know how to share.

"Wood ash?"

"It's what they send when they can't be bothered to find a body or their actual ashes," Juzan's typical derisive tone creeps back, and Varré can almost see the angry frown. Now he does pull away.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," Juzan tilts Varré's chin to catch his eyes from where they'd fallen to his lap, "I want you to know that you'll survive this. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you will, and it will get easier. The pain fades. Not all the way, but it does. What's left is how you hold onto them, even though they're gone." Juzan smiles then, one of his few genuine smiles, but it's tinged with a precious agony that steals Varré's breath away. It glitters in his eyes like candlelight over dark water, deep and beautiful and treasured in the other surgeon's heart. And Juzan offers it to Varré as a balm for his own, while smiling at him like he's worth it, like he makes it better.

Varré doesn't think as he surges forward to capture that smile in a kiss and drink in their shared pain, all he knows is that he wants this. This is what he knows, he knows pain, he knows agony, and he knows how to drown it in tenderness. He didn't know he'd loved Linden until it was too late, but when Juzan offered up his wounded heart bid Varré partake to mend the shreds of his own he knew he loved - loves - Juzan and all his dazzling pain.

Varré's first kiss will always belong to a dead man, but he thinks that maybe his second is even sweeter for knowing what to expect, for knowing to expect it. Or it would be, if Juzan wasn't pulling back and grabbing Varré by the shoulders to keep him at bay.

The two surgeons stare at each other, each one's mouth slightly parted. Varré's in horror at what this could mean, and Juzan's in a flustered shock. Ice creeps up Varré's spine as every damning second creeps by, his heart thunders like the hooves of a frightened animal and he has the strangest urge to run far away from how his friend's shock is turning into a pitious scrutiny.

It's Juzan that speaks first, "Don't- don't do this Varré."

"I-I-, " Varré stammers, his usually silver tongue turned leaden in his mouth.

"This isn't a good idea. You just lost Linden, you can't just…" Juzan heaves a sigh and drags his hands down his face. Released from his hold, Varré has to fight the urge to lean forward, his mind screaming that he has to fix this somehow.

"You're hurting Varré I know, but don't use me as wound dressing. It isn't fair to either of us."

"That's not what this is!" Varré insists, "I wasn't even sure I loved Linden until he died, but you…" Varré goes to grab Juzan's hand but stops when it flinches away. Something gnawing, cold, and ugly starts chewing its way through the pit of Varré's stomach, something with words he doesn't want to hear.

"I felt this way before I even met Linden," Varré whispers, watching Juzan's hand because he can't bare to see the look on his face. It's a lie but it feels truer than anything he's ever known. How had he ever not loved like this? How could something that seems to flow through every part of him as surely as his blood have ever not existed? It's impossible.

"Even if I believed you, I don't- I can't…" Juzan huffs a breath as he folds over and buries his hands in his hair. He grips it in the way Varré knows means he's struggling terribly and his heart leaps to soothe even as it aches and cracks apart all over again at the only thing Juzan could mean.

"Do you not feel the same for me?" The smallness of Varré's voice surprises him. He thought it'd be louder, more tremulous, reflect some of the howling desperation that's screaming through him. He's not sure what he expects to see when Juzan looks up at him but it's certainly not a guilty sort of pain that makes his surely masochistic little heart flip in his chest.

"I'm sorry. I could. I think I could, but not now, not like this. Not as a white mask."

And with that admission Juzan might as well have shoved Varré backwards off a cliff for how everything tumbles around him. He can't breath for the wind rushing in his ears even as he's frozen in place.

It takes a moment for what Juzan said to sink in, and when it does Varré's shock turns to anger.

"Oh? So you could love me if I wasn't what I am?" He bites out the question and relishes Juzan's shocked expression.

"That's not what I m-" Juzan cuts himself off, the realization that Varré's misinterpretation of his words rings just as true playing dizzily across his face.

"Fuck, Varré, don't take that the wrong way."

"And how should I take it? I was raised to be a war surgeon all my life, so if you find that distasteful you may as well pull out your dagger and start carving my face off yourself." His accusative and gruesome comparison fails to elicit Varré's desired reaction from Juzan. Instead the other surgeon takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and speaks in a carefully gentle tone.

"You're angry cause you're hurting, and you're misunderstanding me."

Somehow the attempt at patience and understanding from the normally abrasive man only riles Varré up further.

"I understand perfectly! You can't do what you must for the good of the army and insist on torturing your patients as if that'd make your hands any less bloody. You're a failure of a war surgeon and instead of facing the truth you've convinced yourself we're all evil, unlovable, wretches. Is that it, hm?" Varré isn't sure when he leapt to his feet to try and tower over Juzan, but he only realizes it when the other man glares up at him from his seat on the cot. There's a familiar hatred there that makes Varré's blood run cold. He's pushed too far this time hasn't he, bringing up their disagreements as doctors.

"Fuck off, Varré," Juzan huffs as he grabs his mask and stands. He heads for the exit, but Varré catches him by the arm as he passes.

"Where are you going? We're not done here!" His voice cracks on the last word, that missing desperation from earlier finally making itself known.

"We are." Juzan states as he wrenches his arm from Varré's grasp and puts on his mask, shattering any intimacy that might have remained between them, "I have patients."

He says it like an accusation, an indictment of Varré not having patients to tend to, and that twists whatever knife had seemingly found its way into Varré's gut. He stands there alone in the tent unsure of where to go from here. Linden is dead, and Juzan rejected him. Nobody loves a white mask it seems, a bloody killer in the guise of an angel. No one can stomach it, they're not meant to. A killer is only loved when life is too painful to continue, and so Varré must face his life without. He must snach bits and pieces where he can, and eek out a heart on the fringes with his own kind. He tries to tell himself he can be content with that again, as he once thought he was. But after knowing the warmth of love, his mask feels far too cold against his lips.