#he doesn't let his disability stop him but by the time he's done with you you're gonna fucking wish he did

[sprnklersplashes]

shout out to leigh bardugo for creating a disabled character who can be described as "he doesn't let his disability stop him from achieving what he wants (threat)"

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

omg congrats for 5k doll! i wanted to slide in and see if i could have a protective!bf Gaz written since my baby is so underappreciated??? i saw this tweet about the scene in mw where gaz's disabling a bomb and is unable to and price throws the guy off the balcony, but this time the bomb in strapped to his love and he's and he's struggling and sees price out of the corner of his eye and remembers what happens last time and panicks and goes all 'you won't do that to her'. just a thought, love all your work!

—Don't Look At Her

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞

"Gaz," your voice wavers, watching the rapidly working man and seeing his darting eyes—lit with panicked fervor. He doesn't answer, so you speak again. "Gaz!"

"No!" He barks, brown eyes instantly meeting yours. Lips pull in a right frown; there's a glint in his gaze that you'd never seen before—not in the many years you'd known him. Kyle's firm hands don't leave the wiring attached to your chest. The vest.

The bomb.

"No, Love," he grates out, immediately getting back to work as you try to keep your tears at bay, body jerking back and forth as your boyfriend pulls at the straps and bits. "Don't even say anything. You're going to fucking fine, you hear? It's going to be okay."

It was the product of bad intel, really. You'd been sent in without the proper know-how, leading to a scuffle where the butt of a gun had been slammed into your temple. When your eyes opened again, it was already too late.

Kneeling in the middle of a large office building, the glass of the windows shattered behind you, and the wind whips the back of your skull aggressively, you stare down at Gaz. Trying to form words on a tongue that won't cooperate.

"You need to run," you whisper out, resigning yourself as the rapid beeping increases. Your heart moves so fast you can't feel the skin of your chest anymore. "Kyle," pleading, you watch his jaw clench something fierce. "Listen to me—!"

"I'm not leaving you!" A sharp snap of a metal piece hits your ears, the piece of the vest clattering to the ground in a violent display of desperation. Gaz glances back up at you stubbornly; as if uncaring about the impending incineration only minutes away. "So you stop bloody talking like that, yeah? I'm not just giving up!"

The sides of your eyes dribble out rabid tears, lungs a mess of air and inhales that can't even be considered breathing anymore by how wheezy they sound.

How would it feel? Exploding into a patchwork of blood and fire—instantaneous, sure, but feeling Kyle's heat and his puffs of air; his fear, you can't imagine him dying like that. Not him.

"Look at me," Gaz pants, fingers pulling at cords in search of the one he needed to cut—unable to pinpoint it through the hack-job that had been done to your vest.

There was every color under the sun except fucking yellow. His teeth clench so tight they hurt his jaw, but he sends you quick glances as you shakily do as he says.

Brown eyes soften, and while the both of your hands shake, for a second there's a relief at the eye-contact. "Repeat it, Love."

You lick your lips and stammer, "y-you're not leaving."

Lips press firmly into yours, and you clench your eyes tight at the sensation, tiny sob breaking the contact.

"That's right." Gaz growls. "Not on my life."

Rapid footsteps race into the room, but before the Sergeant can reach for his weapon, the familiar call from the Captain echoes out.

"Friendly!" It's as if Gaz doesn't even register, still digging and fearfully looking at the timer.

50 seconds. 49. 48. 47...

"Sergeant," Price jogs over. You can barely find the inner strength to look up at him. "Sitrep."

Blue eyes dart from the vest to you and the Captain's serious face goes grim. His expression flashes with the inner workings of his mind, eyes narrowing and a grunt stuck under his lips.

"I have it," Gaz speaks quickly, and the words strike you as odd, though you don't comment. Price slid him a sharp look.

"Gaz—"

"Don't even look at her." Snarling like an animal, brown orbs are volatile enough to rend stone in two as they meet the older man's. You and John are rendered speechless, sharing a swift glance in shock like teenagers hearing their parents swear for the first time.

Kyle's eyes are wild, sweat slicking his brow. "Come fucking on!" He yells and your body is snapped forward as Gaz pries on the straps, having to steady yourself on the man's shoulders for support. Every muscle in his body is taunt; shaking with force.

Perhaps it was the memory that invaded his brain like a parasite that had made him snap at his superior like that—a stab to his fine tissue that digs all the way down his rail-straight spine.

Piccadilly Circus. Tanto building. Hostage with an explosive vest.

Kyle's fingers bleed as they peel back rough velcro, having ripped off his gloves to be nearer to you.

It all flashes past his mind in horrible increments, the past, but instead of a man—the hostage is you. And Price was burning his neck with a harsh stare once more.

He's going to throw her out the window, Kyle panics and you watch with the deadly realization of the situation. No. No, I won't let him. Not her.

"Garrick," Price says, voice deep. But he doesn't move. "You need to get your head back on."

"I've got it screwed on just right, Captain." Gaz grunts. "Trust me."

12 seconds. 11. 10. 9...

You stare at Gaz and memorize the make of his handsome face—the dates and the late nights speaking about the future sticking to your skin like leeches; sucking away every instance of love and happiness. His laugh. His brown eyes.

His smile.

Oh, you want to see your Love smile.

"Sergeant!" Price yells, moving forward to grapple onto Kyle's shoulder. "It's going off!"

Your boyfriend rips out of his hold, fists clenched and screaming.

"Get the fuck off of me! I can save her!" Your back hits the ground with a slap and a ragged gasp from your lips, the Brit straddling your hips in a desperate play to deactivate the bomb.

"Kyle," you look up at him, pleading. "You have to take cover, it's...it's okay. I love you, I need you to know that—"

"Bloody shut," eyes spark, locking on the bright color under the front of the vest. Gaz snaps a hand under the material and rips at it in a ruthless wrench of his arm. 2 seconds. There's a deafening snap of wire. "Up!"

The beeping stops and the world stills.

Your wide eyes can't stop crying as you stare up into brown eyes with astonishment; struggling to breathe. You can't tell if the building is vibrating or only you, but nothing seems to be able to focus as a wave crashes down on you; adrenaline still striking you.

Everything rings inside of your ears, pounding in your head.

Hands grasp the base of your jaw and lips descend to yours, tears slapping your skin from above in a wave of feral agony. Gaz stifles his sob on your mouth as you shake wildly, panting over your flesh.

Price gives off a large sigh from behind, standing straighter and turning his head.

Gaz's forehead connects with yours, but there are no words to be said—just the silent gazing and lingering fear of death. He won't let go of your cheeks, and, quivering, you go to grasp tightly at the sides of his arms.

With a shuddering breath, he closes his eyes and sags into you.

TAGS:

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[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 16

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 15, Part 17

Warning! This is sagau imposter so expect some gore and manipulation this chapter! At least no death this time :D

Each step of your dirty shoes on the bare rocky terrain held more weight than Azhdaha's heart and soul. His body shuffled and shifted, resisting the urge to ram the barrier trapping him.

"Don't be so impatient, Azhdaha. You've waited for millennials, surely a minute for me to reach you is nothing." You slow your steps purposely to tease him with a deceivingly gentle smile.

The ground rumbles briefly as Azhdaha settles in place and rests his head on the ground. If he had fur instead of stone, you would believe he was just a giant dog.

"Forgive me your grace. The leylines I command are constantly blooming with power at your every step."

"Was it not the people of Liyue who harmed the leylines causing the events that led to your imprisonment here?" You ask, selecting your words carefully.

Red eyes carved from ruby stare at you as you stop right outside of the barrier surrounding his body. Not wanting to accidentally disable the barrier, you rest your hand on the closest pillar. 

Pillars with the same design and origin of the one who was a little too late to save his dear friend from this fate.

"Was it not the ruler of those people that failed to reach you in time?"

"Even you, your grace, are aware of the shameful state I have been reduced to. Morax may have provided me with these defective eyes but at least now I can view your glorious prestige."

Surprisingly there is no rush of anger and violence in Azhdaha's movement and tone. He moves closer till his face is gently pressing against the Geo-decorated barrier.

"I beg of you, Creator of all things. Let me feel your skin, your warmth. The memories of my creation are lost to the erosion of time. Whether it be your hand or foot, I will adore it all the same. I am nothing but the groundskeeper to your playground called Tevyat."

A originally blind dragon has no need for eyelids so all he can do is gaze pleadingly at your silent form. Blue crystalline clink on the ground as it drops from his eyes as the silence persists. Even still you stare at him with a blank expression until his head is completely bowed to the ground.

An isolated dragon desperate for even the slightest bit of affection was like wet clay for you to mold to your liking. The only thing that ruined any plans you had for him was that dreaded erosion. You seriously doubted that he could stay calm and lie to match your facade the way Beisht can.

"Rest easy now, Azhdaha." Your hand moves through the yellow barrier, which thankfully doesn't deactivate it, to lay on his rocky forehead. "A dragon like you, who I have created with my own hand before this vessel, is not easily forgotten. Many of your brethren have perished before I could return."

Cupping what little of his wide, rough jaw, you tilt his head to stare up at you. A delicate expression with sadness and love swirling together is what paints your face. "You have done so well to persist this long, Azhdaha."

A loud roar of anguish is let loose as he tries to move further into your touch. Ignoring the threat of scraps, you pet his stony exterior with a smile. 

"Your grace! Your holiness! Those words are what fuel my pitiful existence. The feel of your skin on this degraded body brings memories of my creation from the clutches of erosion."

Mindlessly stroking the weeping dragon, you think deeply on his words. 'Memories of my creation' is what he called it. Azhdaha was struggling at first due to the contrasting information from the eyes corrupted by the Gnosis and the leylines of Teyvat. All it took was your touch on his body for him to fully give in to you. 

Perhaps the other dragon sovereigns and primordial beings will recognize you easily with your touch as well. Could it work on the Archons too?

"Are you okay, your grace? I know that day, you were injured due to my own careless ruling. I failed to control my subjects and you suffered from it. If death is my penalty for my negligence then I will accept it wholeheartedly."

The strange and unexpected words laced with guilt made you confused. Caressing the rugged layer of stone near his eyes to grab his attention, you ask carefully. "What do you mean by that?"

His tail lowers onto the ground as he speaks lowly. "Not long ago, the Geovishaps were making their rounds on maintaining the leylines when two hatchlings got lost."

Oh, you knew where this was going.

"When they dug back up to the surface, they were in the city. While trying to escape, they hurt someone. They hurt you." That last word is said with bubbling anger. Resisting the urge to yank your hands away from the dragon capable of turning into a volcano, you brush your hands further to distract him.

"Teyvat had already warned us elemental beings about someone injuring you with malicious intent. To feel the leylines in your area go into a frenzy from that incident made my blood boil. It's only fair that the perpetrator suffers the bare minimum consequences."

So, it wasn't Teyvat that had the hatchling kill the other. It was Azhdaha.

Despite the harsh truth that Azhdaha just admitted, your hands seemed to move on their own to keep Azhdaha subdued. You aren't necessarily scared of Azhdaha, you're just more cautious on how to approach leaving him.

You couldn't just teleport out, who knows how Azhdaha's battered and worship-obsessed brain would interpret it. You didn't need a bunch of Geovishap and Geovishap hatchlings chasing you throughout Liyue.

But the thought of returning back to the city takes less priority than your current one. A dragon one head scratch away from rolling over at your command is vulnerable to your words. Just what could you strip from Azhdaha for future use?

"Azhdaha, you love me don't you?" You ask it with a deceivingly shaky voice as your hands halt their stream of pets. His reaction is immediate.

His claws scratch the ground as he stands to his full height.  Even still, his back hunches trying to keep himself respectful to your much smaller form. "My love for you will exist even after my death. Every Geovishap that roams this world and every leyline that reacts to your presence is proof of my love for you, beloved Creator."

A small, sad smile crosses your face at the words he utters with zeal. It was so easy to get his deteriorated brain to fall for your expertly crafted facade of vulnerability. It's not like he was your first or last victim to this 'side' of you.

School faculty couldn't turn a blind eye to the way you paled at the cost of lunch. Empathetic, heroic, and kind students wouldn't resist the urge to defend, tend to, or help you when any bullying started. Even strangers with bleeding hearts had no problem giving you food or money when you were a roaming teenager with nothing but a backpack.

The money you saved by not paying lunch almost always went straight to the locked box you had for when you would be inevitably moved to a new guardian. All the bullying incidents were helpful in making the other students invite and accept you into any group of your choosing. It's not like anyone would believe that meek and polite you could jump the bullies on their way home with a malicious smile and a blunt weapon, nor would a passing stranger that helped you be aware of the man and cat that you returned to completely contrasting the story you spun.

"Then you're willing to protect me, right? Ei, that Bakufu was intent on seeing me as an imposter. She tried to take my life right when I just returned. It's due to that, that I have to live in fear of this mask being removed."

Moving closer, you rest your forehead against his head, trembling in fear of the horrid memory.

"I'm sure if I arrived in Liyue instead of Inazuma, I would be able to walk on Teyvat with you proudly on the surface with me. You would protect me, you would fight for me. You would die for me, would you not? Dragons are known for their loyalty after all."

Azhdaha continuously repositions himself as he breathes heavily. There's no doubt he's torn between anger against Ei, happiness at your trust, and excitement at the prospect of being on the surface.

"You have my word, my grace. I would fight any enemy, defend any stronghold, obey any command you have for me. Simply relay your order and I will fulfill it to perfection. And if it pleases you, allow me the honor of destroying the Shogun for her unforgivable sins."

"But can you really protect me with those imperfect eyes?" Your words are spoken gently with a smile laced with sweet poison. "You are putting me in danger by using those corrupted eyes to watch over me. Do you not know why I crafted you without eyes?"

A sole finger touches the edge of the red jewel eyes as silence permanence the air. He doesn't flinch from the fleeting fingertips despite the slow unraveling of your intentions.

"Geo lifeforms that stay underground don’t have eyes as they have no need for it. And as thankful as I am that Morax provided you with eyes to enjoy the surface, it wasn't my original design for you."

Experimentally tapping his eyes and smiling at the crystalline texture, you speak with a low timber. "You were always meant to stay underground to properly care for the leylines. You didn't know it at the time, but accepting these eyes had the same effect as accepting Celestia's lies."

You let Azhdaha think deeply on your revelation as you pet the area around his eyes. The mere fact that he was contemplating it was a good sign, those eyes are proof of his contract with Morax after all.

"Your benevolence, are you requesting the destruction of my eyes?"

"Of course not, Azhdaha!" Laughing reassuringly, your fingers dig into the corner of his eyes ignoring the way he flinches in pain. "I'm commanding you to give me those eyes. I cannot bring you to the surface with me, so bringing a remnant of you will soothe my aching and lonely heart. It's convenient that those eyes prevent you from doing your job correctly too."

A low pained groan leaves his jaw as your other hand mimics the action of the former. Nails digging into his eye cavities, you feel the ruby eyes lift from the force. Azhdaha's body shakes, alerting you that you pushed him far enough. Releasing his eyes you take a step back to be out of the barrier in case he makes any attack.

"I once yearned to see the sun, that blazing ball of fire that lights up this world providing it with the warmth to live. All because I knew that you must shine even brighter than it. In those days of old, envy and despair consumed me as did the love and joy I felt being embraced in this world that you crafted. I know better now. I know that even without these eyes that I enjoyed from that traitor I once called my friend, I could still make out your glorious form. Every leyline on this planet shines like dull cobblestone in comparison to the gold figure that stands in front of me."

"I have no way to wretch these crystal eyes out of the unneeded cavities. Take them from me, your grace, take any part of my body that you desire. My sole regret is that I could not offer you my original body to pick from."

An excited smile stretches across your face with a heartfelt caress to the bridge of his nose. "Thank you Azhdaha, do not fret. The day that I craft you eyes worthy of the dragon you once were is near. Thank you for being such a good boy."

Despite the condescending tone to your last words that slipped out, Azhdaha still rejoices with the same fervor of a real dog. The tree tail wags slowly, revealing his happiness.

Carefully, you dig your nails into his right eye. It's heavy and hard to pull out. This would surely be easier using your sickle but you didn't want Azhdaha to feel even more pain. At least with you using your hands, he feels some comfort in your skin.

After a tough tug, the eye is finally out and stuffed haphazardly into your bag. Blue crystalline liquid coats your hands and flows from the now-empty cavity. Wiping it off on your clothes carelessly, you give Azhdaha a break by petting him.

"Just one more Azhdaha, then it'll be done." He leans into your touch without a single sound escaping him. You aren't fooled by that tough facade. He's silent in fear that speaking will only result in his pained cries.

The red jewel chips slightly as you dig it out of his head. Beads of clear blue roll down as you grit your teeth. It finally comes out and that trickle becomes a stream. Putting the eye into your bag, you peek at the now blind dragon.

A slow, continuous dribble of aqua crystalline stains his face as the cavities slowly stitch close. The cavities closing simultaneously are heard by the cracking and grinding of rocks. Azhdaha curls into himself from the pain but refuses to allow any sound escape him.

Your body moves on its own to hug the suffering dragon. Murmurs of praise and thanks leave your lips as the rocks creak louder and faster. The tear tracks left on his face stain your clothing blue yet you can't find it in yourself to care.

A selfish person, that's what you were to your core. There are no words you can use to justify what you have done to Azhdaha. You may never have the power to craft new eyes for him. You may not even live long enough to research how. Yet, you still manipulated him into giving it up. The bitter self-hatred and burning feeling of loathing yourself builds up inside you.

"As sad as I am to surrender my eyes, there is nothing that brings me greater joy than to be of use to you your grace. I will readjust to living without eyes."

Releasing him, you stare at his now-healed face. The cavities have been completely sealed shut as if there were never eyes to begin with. His voice is deep and rumbles softly.

"The leylines of this world relay to me more than elemental crystals shaped in the visage of eyes can."

The words do little to ease the guilt you feel for your cruelty but before you can do anything, a loud sound interrupts your thoughts. Frowning, you adjust your bag back onto your shoulders and look at the entrance to Azhdaha's lair.

It's silent and it only makes you more suspicious. Taking a few steps toward the lair's entrance, a glow behind you makes you whip around quickly. Azhdaha's body glows with white cracks throughout his body as he roars ferociously.

Backing up in confusion, you watch in disbelief as Azhdaha's body shrinks and compresses. Loud bangs echo from the lair entrance in sync with Azhdaha's deafening cry.

That loud bang is accompanied by the sound of the seal covering the entrance shattering. Deciding to focus on the unknown intruder first, you catch the sight of a tall figure walking with powerful steps toward you.

A sole amber eye is what catches your attention first.

Brown hair with glowing tips loosely drapes over an earthy-colored hanfu. Only a stub can be made out from inside one of the dark sleeves as the tall man looks at you with an emotionless expression.

"Zhongli. It sure is a surprise to see you here." Your mind spins as it tries to comprehend just why Zhongli was here. Azhdaha's unwavering roars, his missing eyes, just everything about this situation was suspicious.

His other arm, which thankfully hasn't been cut off, raises to cup your face. Gloved fingers are featherlight on your dusty cheek as you stare up at him with perplexion clear on your face. He leans closer to speak with unwavering confidence.

"Why did you leave?"

He's got to be kidding.

"Why wouldn't I leave? I wasn't interested in being a third wheel to your conversation with the Creator." You answer back with a disbelieving tone before getting startled at the slam of a hulking body hitting the ground.

"MORAX! How dare you reappear in my prison after all that you had done?! What audacity have you fostered that let you dare to touch the Creator?!"

Fuck

Shit, oh fucking hell. 

Thousands of curses swarm your mind at Azhdaha's words, you keep your face in its confused expression as you run through any plan or excuse to survive.

"You're making Y/N uncomfortable with your insane claims, Azhdaha. They're an Oracle sent from the world the Creator is residing in." Zhongli is calm in his refute to Azhdaha's tantrum.

Pushing Zhongli's hand off your face, you turn to look at Azhdaha who is now much smaller. His stature is exactly like you saw when you played Genshin. That bright light must have not only degraded his body to the erosion-damaged body but his brain too. It's simply too suspicious that he became this wildly angry at Zhongli's presence.

Looking up at Azhdaha with sad eyes and a kind voice you speak gently, as if trying to soothe the dragon with no idea of what he claimed.

"I know my presence is similar to the Creator due to my otherworldly origin, but I'm really just Y/N. The erosion must be so painful that it even brought you down to this point. The creator hasn't forgotten you, I can promise that."

Zhongli frowns as Azhdaha tries to refute you. "NO! Don't you see, your grace?! That traitor is merely trying to keep you from reaching your full glory to keep you to himself!"

"How can you say that when you can't see at all?" Zhongli's voice is chilly as he places his gloved hand on your shoulder. His grip is tight and you try to step away. He doesn't budge and merely pulls you closer to him.

"Solidify!" The familiar line is yelled before a dome-like shield completely covers you and Zhongli. Your confusion on his action is answered when rocks from the ceiling start to rain on the shield. His hand positions your head to look back at him.

"Why won't you look at me Y/N? Do you still hold bitterness against me for my doubts against you? I was proven wrong utterly and completely, I apologize for my rudeness."

His voice is pleading and his lips tug down into a sad frown. You really can't understand why Zhongli's just ignoring all the suspicious things in this situation. Was the attachment acolytes feel towards you already affecting him this strongly?

"I'm not mad at you. Sure, it was annoying that you kept suspecting me despite all my efforts but you do believe me now after sacrificing so much. Actually, just what and how much did you offer? The sky lit up quite a few times."

An excited smile graces his lips as he takes a step closer to you, but unexpectedly sways making you grab his arm in worry. He laughs gently before speaking.

"After I noticed your disappearance, I gave as many offerings of my body as I could. Not only as my repentance toward the Creator but also as an apology to you."

Your eyes trail down his change of clothes. The hanfu is black with brown, gold, and white parts to it. The Geo symbol sign is clearly stitched into the inner robe.

"Is that why you have a change of clothes and are swaying so much? Be honest and tell me what part of your body you gave."

With closed eyes and shaky breaths, he places your hand on the top of his head. His hair is ticklish to your bare palms. "This human body wasn't nearly enough to make an impactful offering. But my Exuvia is adequate for our beloved creator. Naturally, my horns were the first to go."

The slight nub you feel between his locks must be the stump from his horns. You aren't sure whether to be sick or amazed. But Zhongli doesn't stop there, he takes advantage of your bewilderment and takes hold of your other hand.

"My spines were the next to be cut off. Those jagged ambers were more helpful for flying than anything else." His head nuzzles your hand on his hair as he takes your other hand to the spine of his back. You can feel the ridges of the amber remnants.

"My tail was in a similar position, useless in my current form. If only they didn't bleed so much. If the creator took any longer to accept my offering, I would have passed out from blood loss."

Even more worried about his physical state, you try to pull your hand away from his back and graze his side making him hiss in pain. He's quick to grab hold of it again and press it deeper into his side. Your jaw drops as he groans in pain and gives you a pained smile.

"I severed my claws yet got no response. I really believed I would have to stop at that point but I remembered another draconic part of my body that I could offer."

Your eyes filter between his happy and pained smile and the hanfu that was starting to blossom with red. Just where the fuck was he going with this?

"My skin, or rather, my scales were still in my body. Each clink of the scales as they were torn or cut out of my body may have left me lightheaded from the gushing wounds. But nothing could compare to the feeling of the Creator accepting me."

Blinking in pure shock, your mind struggled to comprehend the mere insanity of his actions. You were joking about him having the possibility of sewing his mouth shut from finding his idle annoying. This motherfucker would actually do it!

Zhongli takes your reaction, or rather lack of reaction, in stride with him pulling you closer to him. Your hands rest on his body to not be pressed against him but that only has him wincing in pain. He stubbornly holds you closer as you cringe from the feeling of wet blood seeping through his hanfu and onto your skin and clothes. 

"Stop. Doesn't this hurt you? Just how long will it take you to heal, let alone regain those dragon features?" Asking him with the purpose of distracting him, you speak in a rush. He merely hums as his arms stay around you firmly.

"Elemental beings like myself will always recover. I'm exceptionally strong with my status as an Archon, I'll be fully healed within a month at most."

You couldn't even linger on the idea that in a single month, he would be completely back to normal. The ground shook as more and more rocks fell on the shield. You couldn't stay trapped in Zhongli's embrace, at this rate you couldn't even stay in Liyue for much longer.

The slight sway of his movements, the slow speech pattern, and the rising of his body temperature permeating through his clothing gave you an idea.

Halting your resistance to his hold, your hands trail up his clothing with a pitiful smile. Rough and dirty hands from all the hardship you faced to get here cup his face enhancing the contrast of his smooth skin. His eyes immediately close at the contact with a deep rumbling sound coming from his chest.

"Still, it must be painful. Not just physically but mentally too. You have gained and lost so much over your lifetime. I have no doubt that it won't stop here. Just stay strong a little longer, won't you? Be patient till the Creator arrives and rewards you properly."

Zhongli's features soften till his eyes droop and his lips tremble. His full vulnerability is on display as he nuzzles into your palms shamelessly.

"Just what kind of ability do you possess? Young as you are, your ability to perceive and empathize with feelings is beyond your years. Do not stress for me, I have already been awarded by the Creator."

You frown slightly at his last words, not fully grasping at what his 'reward' from you was. The sacrificial method? The artifacts and weapons? He smiles at your confusion with half-lidded eyes.

Grasping your hands, he brings them closer to his mouth and kisses your knuckles with a smoldering grin. You aren't completely sure whether the pink decorating his cheeks is from embarrassment or a fever from his injuries.

"What greater reward than an Oracle sent from our God to soothe my soul?"

Suddenly you don't like where this is going. The thundering sound of rocks being thrown agrees with you.

"As fellow devoted servants to the Creator, should we not join in union? Marriage is a contract till death does us part after all."

There's no way this was happening. You were not getting proposed in a basement with a raging dragon just a few feet away from you.

Sensing your hesitation, Zhongli continues to speak with a romantic timber as he places a kiss on your palm.

"This may be sudden but I can assure you that I'll take care of you. I'll protect, provide, and love you as the closest person to our beloved creator. You may not love me now but just being from a different world has caused many problems for you. You are the only person who can match the amount of devotion I hold to our creator."

If this was a true confession of love at first sight or any other extremely fluffy trope, you would seriously contemplate saying yes. He wasn't wrong about your life being much easier with him by your side.

But it instantly died when he revealed that it was from you being such a strong believer and being the most intimately connected to the creator. It killed any romantic prospect of the situation. All you felt was dread and a longing to just leave.

You truly hope that he was only saying this shit from the blood loss getting to him. The annoyed expression you wear isn't even covered up, letting Zhongli see it plainly. His affectionate expression breaks and his lips part to ask you something but it's cut off by a bang.

It seems Azhdaha unknowingly agreed to break you out as a rock finally breaks the dome shield that had been protecting you all this time.

"Succumb to my fury Morax! Not even addressing the creator properly during your whole conversation is a disgrace to the Geo element and dragons alike!"

Wrath seemed to have consumed Azhdaha enough that one of the pillars of the barrier broke. Zhongli summons his spear and walks past you to stand protectively in front of you.

"Do not fret Y/N, I'll subdue Azhdaha so that he does not cause any more problems. Permanently." You absolutely did not want that but at the same time, you really wanted to escape this whole situation.

Azhdaha is going insane, Zhongli's bound to realize what you had taken from Azhdaha, and the duo of women are bound to get closer from the activity. That's not even counting how close this cave seemed to be from collapsing. 

"Azhdaha is still the creator's loyal creation! He may have deteriorated from the erosion that you failed to prevent, but don't kill a loyal and faithful follower like him!"

Hitting Zhongli with such a sharp remark, you watch his deadly glare weaken. Azhdaha begins to make careless attacks toward Zhongli's vicinity which, unfortunately, you're still in.

Picking you up with ease, Zhongli dodges the many attacks and stops near the lair's exit. Azhdaha does his best to give chase but isn’t much of a threat in that size.

Setting you down and wiping away the small pieces of rock from your face, Zhongli gazes at you warmly.

"You should return to Liyue Harbor. I'm sure many things require your attention considering how much trouble you seem to get into. And when we meet again, I expect an answer to my question."

Trying to ignore his last words, you wave to him before he jumps back into battle with Azhdaha. As soon as his back is turned you book it out of the lair. Leaving the small cave entrance the night sky shines above you.

Thousands of stars shimmer as you stand in silence. It felt good to have a break from everything going on below ground. Walking slowly your eyes gradually climb up the Dragon-Queller tree trunk to admire its full beauty.

It seems you were correct in assuming that the crystalline blue glowed brighter at night. The cerulean-colored branches pulsed with an eye-catching glimmer. The orange leaves blew in the night air as the pink petals of the flowers below you swayed.

You spot a familiar-looking constellation in the sky that seemed to twinkle for your attention. Lapis Dei, Zhongli's constellation, was lit up by four points. It was pretty incredible that you went from a C0 to C4 in a matter of hours.

But, just what effect did constellations have on characters other than making them stronger? It was closely connected to your creator power so it must be important outside of the game. Would whatever effect it have differ between humans and archons? 

What would have happened if you had gotten Zhongli to C6 before coming here?

Setting those lingering questions aside, you gaze up at the Dragon-Queller tree one more time before bringing up your game screen. You've finally witnessed everything about this area giving you a sense of satisfaction. 

Creak

The sound makes you pause and lift your head up from the screen in confusion. It's silent for a few moments until Teyvat bombards your mind with a sense of something going wrong.

CRACK

Ice. Lots and lots of ice spring up from the ground circling around your feet. Quickly moving back from the ice, a sharp and cold solid spike tears through your calves. A cry of pain leaves you as you stop in place. Red drops of blood stain the spikes of ice that impaled you.

Did it break your bones? Was it an important muscle for running? If you pulled it out, would you lose too much blood? 

Those thoughts swirled in your mind as the pain blinded you from the fact that Teyvat never stopped warning you.

Keeping a hand to your heart trying to slow your breathing and push down the rising sobs, you focus on what you can do now. But it's already too late. Something glints in the distance and a swish of air is heard before pain blooms from your chest.

Scalding water leaves boils on the right side of your chest as an arrow stays embedded into it. Tears of pain and anger stick to your eyelashes as you carefully move your head trying to spot the woman.

You knew Yelan and Shenhe were somewhere here. Even with the tears sliding down your mask, your lips were curled into a defensive snarl.

The small breaths you let out don't feel wet or painful, therefore your lungs are unharmed. Yelan had the skill and power to hit your lungs if she desired. This means she wants to speak to you, she wants some information you have.

She won't kill you yet.

Commanding Teyvat to show you where they were hiding, you blink sluggishly at the elemental sight being activated. Teyvat creates a path of Anemo leading to two separate points making you smile through the pain.

"Yelan, Shenhe. Shouldn't you both at least reveal yourself when taking a hostage?"

There's no need to play dumb at this point. They already suspect and harmed you to the point where it just wouldn't be smart to act ignorant.

After a beat, both women leave their respective hiding spots and make their way to you. Yelan is relaxed with an easygoing gait showing that she has all the time in the world. Shenhe is more ferous in her approach, weapon on hand, and a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Except Shenhe begins to sprint at you once you lock eyes with her. Despite the rapid thumping of your heart at her stance, you stay still not wanting to show that you could escape when needed.

As expected; Yelan grits her teeth in annoyance and activates her skill to catch up to Shenhe. Shenhe is just a few feet away from you, her spear is held out prepared to slash when she's pulled back by Yelan's lifeline. A sigh of relief escapes you as you slump into place.

"Not yet Shenhe, I need them alive for my job first. Afterwards, you can kill them as you please." Dropping Shenhe from her lifeline Yelan sighs in exhaustion. 

Shenhe doesn't react much to Yelan's attitude. Merely brushing off the dust and repositioning her weapon while watching you. 

"Eyes over here Y/N." The sound of your name from Yelan's lips catches your attention. She smirks at your wary glance and spins her bracelet. "Why don't you and I have a little chat?"

It's done! This one didn't take as long since I have been getting settled into school. If everything is cool and I'm fast then I could finish a chapter every weekend. But let's be honest. I'm far too unlucky for that. This was edited by my annoying dear editor @serpent-benediction . Don't pay attention to him tho. That was mostly a joke! I know the Zhongli cutting limbs wasn't as much as one would think since he goes around without his dragon features most of the time anyway. I just couldn't find a good reason on him cutting off his legs and still managing to fight Azhdaha. So, I hope everyone isn't too disappointed by that and can enjoy the most yandere character so far! Personally, I would not accept that marriage proposal. But now we get to focus on Yelan and Shenhe! I've taken great care to keep Yelan's intention very vague, but I think those that have read her story have a good idea on why she's here. The next chapter should be quite exciting! Taglist - remember if you're username is in italics, that means I couldn't tag you! @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia

[genericpuff]

yeah so let's talk about the scenes between hades and thanatos that went from being goofy "haha a boss being hard on an employee" 'jokes' to child abuse as soon as it was revealed that hades was thanatos' adoptive father

and yes i'm putting a content warning jump for ❗❗❗ child abuse and neglect ❗❗❗

so first off, before we even get into the Thanatos / Hades father son relationship thing, I wanna mention a sequence in Episode 39 and why I think Rachel included the scene of Hades reaming Thanatos for being bad at his job.

And it's simply because of what happens the episode before.

Persephone's ableism aside (seriously, I have legs, that doesn't mean I want to walk everywhere, I also own a car, that doesn't mean I have to drive everywhere, maybe flying is tiring? Maybe he's injured and shouldn't be flying? Maybe he has a disability that results in him having wings that can't fly? Check yourself Persephone 😒) this is one of the earliest signs of LO's "Revenge for Persephone" problem which is CONSTANT throughout the narrative - that anytime Persephone is slighted or inconvenienced in the slightest, then the narrative needs to ensure there's some kind of revenge, either directly for her sake or indirectly for the audience's, and it's often always facilitated through or by Hades.

And that leads us to Episode 39, which is when we get exactly that.

Moving onto the scene itself, this is what we call in the work environment a "dressing down". This is not how legitimate employee reviews are given. Hades is not planning on giving him any sort of formal review or constructive criticism. He's planning on tearing him a new asshole just for the fun of doing so. You can even see it written on his face. He's doing this just for the joy of tearing him down. As someone who's been subject to this kind of behavior in previous work environments, I can assure you that this is not normal behavior that's indicative of a functioning workplace, this is abuse.

Taking that train scene into account, it's a way to indirectly "avenge" Persephone. She was slighted by Thanatos, so now Hades is going to make his life hell. But here's the thing - this not revenge for Persephone's sake. Hades doesn't even know Persephone's in the building, and Persephone doesn't know that Thanatos is being berated by Hades. But the scene is here anyways because of course the audience needs to feel "better" about Persephone getting pushed by a stranger at the train stop.

Now, scenes like this have been done in other stories, often times to explain the behavior of bullies/aggressors/etc. because in many cases, textbook bullies, whether children or adults, are abusing others because they're being abused by a higher authority so they take it out on those "weaker" than them.

But this doesn't work in LO, for several reasons.

First off, it pretty much plays it off like a joke, especially when the scene continues after Persephone has walked into Tower 4.

But beyond that, the higher authority abusing Thanatos is someone we're expected to root for. He's the main love interest. While this could be written as a legitimate character flaw, we all know now, in the year 2023, that Rachel sees Hades' behavior as a feature, not a bug. While most scenes written like this would cast a new perspective on a bully and allow some room for understanding and empathy from the audience, in LO's case, we're still not expected to empathize with Thanatos here, they want us insulting him right alongside Hades.

And of course, that brings us to the big blue elephant in the room - the knowledge of Hades and Thanatos' relationship completely re-contextualizes these scenes in a way that's far too depressing and horrifying for a writer like Rachel to be able to wrap up confidently.

Of course, she tried, but her efforts... can't even really be called efforts. For starters, because a lot of it is played off as a joke, as if Rachel can't handle even a single moment of legitimate emotion, she has to "write off the awkward" by making things "funny".

But when she does try to seriously write these scenes of introspection, reflection, and communication, it just winds up turning into the main protagonists going "woe is me, I was the real victim!" and never actually suffering consequences for their actions as a result as they Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss their victims into apologizing to them. It still isn't asking us to empathize with or side with Thanatos, it wants us to end up right back at square one supporting Hades' side of the story.

Literally "well you weren't that bad, at least you were there!" bare minimum accountability, followed by "well I didn't make your life easy so I get it" from someone who was literally a child who was abandoned and left to live with an abusive asshole. It wasn't his fault that he was in the situation he was in, it wasn't his fault that he was a "handful" for Hades because he was a CHILD and Hades was the ADULT, but the comic paints it as Thanatos being at fault anyways for being "ungrateful".

But there are even more subtle signs that point to Thanatos' childhood with Hades that, while not specifically mentioning it, do paint a pretty nasty picture of how Thanatos views Hades and the people around him as a result of his childhood, in a very fridge horror "stop and think about it" kind of way.

First of all, the fact that Thanatos hasn't even been allowed to touch Hades' car. Obviously he's referring to specifically driving it but it makes me wonder what kind of bare minimum accommodations Hades made for his own adopted son. Again, played off for a joke.

And of course we have this one piece of concept art-

Now to be fair, this is concept art from before it was retconned that Thanatos was Hades' son, but it still casts an icky implication in hindsight both because of Hades' treatment towards Thanatos as well as the implication that Thanatos was getting "too close" to Persephone for Hades' liking. This sort of weird dynamic can be found in the actual comic when Hades admits he knows Thanatos was sleeping with Minthe.

And then there was this one scene, which prompted me to write this post in the first place, shared in the ULO Discord.

Thanatos has just met Daphne, so it's not necessarily weird for him to be suspicious of her asking for his phone, but the actual dialogue... doesn't line up with what you'd assume he would be suspicious of.

He doesn't say "you're not going to peek through it, are you?"

He specifically says "You're not going to smash it, are you?"

Now, if this line were intended to be anything more than some throwaway "haha funny" line (which, again, where's the punchline here) then maybe it could point more to something that happened between him and Minthe. But there's nothing that implies she was ever violent towards him, and the one time she IS violent towards anyone, it's implied that's the first and only time she's ever escalated things to that point and that even she's shocked and disgusted at her own behavior.

There is plenty to imply that Thanatos was abused by Hades, though.

So reading this line in hindsight... really just feels like further proof on a growing pile of evidence that Thanatos was constantly being berated, controlled, and abused by Hades, a guy who he never asked for as a father figure, but was still expected to apologize to anyways.

But there is one last thing I wanna mention before I wrap up. One thing that was mentioned by yet another user in the ULO community that really stood out to me because it just goes to show how horrible Hades has been towards Thanatos, both in the past pre-retcon and in the present well after it was established that they were father and (adopted) son.

And that's Hades' two dream sequences that involve him having children with Persephone.

One of these scenes is from before the retcon. The other is from after.

Neither one features Thanatos as a part of Hades' visions for the future.

Hades has been Thanatos' entire life. But Hades doesn't see Thanatos as even a part of his.

[dandylovesturtles]

leo and mikey, treat

(fav duo tbh, pretty underrated)

More Sidelined AU! Are you sick of me yet? Hopefully not because this has consumed my brain.

Part 1

Part 2

We're jumping ahead a bit in time to hopefully give you guys a bit more idea of The Flavor of this AU. And also to give it a bit of a happier note. It's not all doom and gloom!

No content warnings to speak of on this one

---

Mikey lands on the roof and powers on his earpiece, whispering, "Mikey in position. Can you hear me, Base? Come in Base."

"Helloooo New York City," comes Leo's voice, loud and clear. "You're tuning into L.A.I.R 179.12, with your host, DJ Neon Leon! Bringing you the hottest rock from the other side of the millennia."

Mikey snickers, then tries to pull himself back together. "Leo, come on! I'm here."

"Who?"

He sighs, even though he isn't mad at all. "I'm here, DJ Neon Leon."

"Ohohoho, excellent." He hears the click of typing, and then Leo says, "Can you get me visuals, Shelldon?"

"Right away, Neon Leon," Shelldon's voice crackles through the comms. There's a moment of silence, and Mikey can just imagine Leo rolling his chair around his "command center."

(He and Donnie had spent ages building it to look like the bridge of the S.S. Starbolt, with added mobility access, of course. Leo loves it as much as Donnie loves his lab.)

"Got your visuals, dudes," says Shelldon. There's some more typing from Leo's end, then he says, "Alright, Miguel, you should see two guards coming around the building riiiiight... now!"

Sure enough, two guards in plainclothes circle either side of the old apartment building across the street. Mikey watches as the two of them meet in front of the entrance, exchange a few words, then turn and head back the way they came.

"Right on time, Leo."

"Perfect, we're synced." Some more typing, and then, "The rooftop will be clear - let me know when you're over there and I'll get you inside."

"Roger that," he says. "Mikey out." Then he clicks his earpiece to silenced.

A hop, skip, and a jump later he's on the opposite roof. There's a door here, and he edges toward it before contacting Leo again.

"I'm here!"

"Alright... Disabling alarms... now!" Mikey can just see how dramatically he must have pushed the button. "Check the door to see if it's locked."

Mikey reaches out and jiggles the handle, but it doesn't budge. "Locked."

"Alright, no problem - you got your lockpicks?"

"Yep!"

"Remember what I taught you?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Alright. Make me proud, little bro."

Mikey grins, pulling his lockpicking kit out of his gear. It takes him a few minutes, because he's nowhere near as fast at this as Leo is, but he gets it done without needing to ask for help. The training Leo made him go through is still fresh in his mind.

"Alright, I'm in," he says as he slips through the door. He's in a deserted stairwell, but just to be safe he crouches down into the shadows near the wall.

"So far, so good. You need to go down two flights of stairs. No guards are coming around right now, but keep it quiet just in case."

"Don't worry, I'll be silent as a mouse!"

"Knowing Dad that's not giving me as much confidence as you think."

Mikey giggles, then sucks in a breath and gets his game face on. Right. Silent. Ninja skills GO.

He does manage to make it to the right floor without major incident. There's no one in the hall when he enters, looking at the rows of numbered doors. He doesn't know why this is where the artifact is being kept hidden, but it doesn't matter.

"According to our intel, you should be looking for door four-oh-nine," says Leo. "The floor's clear, so get goin'."

"Got it," whispers Mikey, then hurries along in a silent crouch to the door Leo specified. He stops when he gets there, hissing in disappointment.

"What's up?"

"There's some kind of keypad lock."

"No problem. Just hook Donnie's doohickey in there."

Donnie would definitely hate it if he heard them calling it a "doohickey," and that makes Mikey grin. He pulls it out of his gear (it looks like a USB stick, but slightly thinner) and slips it into the maintenance slot on the keypad.

"Alriiight, hacking in progress," says Leo. "Big solo mish is going pretty smoothly so far, huh?"

"Yep," says Mikey proudly. "Told you guys I got this."

"That you did. Oh, and... alakazam!"

There's a click as he says it, then the red light on the keypad turns green. Mikey grins and opens the door, slipping inside the dusty apartment.

"You're getting pretty good at that hacking thing."

"Uh, you know I don't actually hack anything, right bud? I just get Shelly here to do it for me, or shoot it off to Dee if it's too complex."

"Don't sell yourself so short, dude!" says Shelldon. "You're picking it up real quick!"

"Ugh, don't say that. It makes me sound like nerd."

Mikey laughs again, searching the apartment for... well, he's not sure exactly. But he's pretty sure he'll know it when he sees it.

"What's the Foot Clan want this thing for, anyway?" he asks.

"Ours is not to question why, Miguel. I'm leaving that question for Donnie to answer."

"Mm... guess so..." He's about to say something else, but then he feels... something. Like a pulse, getting stronger as he moves toward a closet.

"...I think... I can feel it."

"Feel it?"

"Yeah... it's like..." He frowns, moving forward. "Like it's calling to me."

He opens the closet to find a safe. It also has an electronic lock, so once again he inserts the doohickey. The safe door opens with a click, and he peers inside.

There's only one item: a glittering green stone, with markings he doesn't understand carved in its surface. The pulse is super strong now, waves of energy washing over Mikey. Whatever this thing is, it's definitely powerful.

"I found it!" he says to Leo, a little louder than he should. He reaches in and wraps his fingers around it.

"Great! Hold on, just let me see if-"

Before he finishes his sentence, Mikey pulls the stone out - and immediately a loud alarm starts blaring, making him jump.

"What the heck is that!?" he yelps, jumping to his feet. He hears Leo curse on the other end of the line.

"Pressure alarm. Get out of there!"

The windows are barred - it's why he didn't come in that way in the first place. Mikey has no choice but to go back the way he came, dashing into the hallway. He turns on his heel and is making for the stairwell when his earpiece crackles again.

"No good, they're coming up the stairs."

"Then where am I supposed to go!?" he asks, frantic. All the windows are barred in the hallway, too, so that's no good.

"Okay, okay, hold on... oh, I got it! Opposite direction, about five doors down. Laundry chute."

Mikey sprints. Just as he hears the door of the stairwell open, he's tipping into the chute, pulling his limbs into his shell.

Getting chased by guards? No fun. Sliding down a laundry chute? Very fun.

"Whoooohoohooo!" he cheers when he reaches the bottom, landing in a pile of old rags and t-shirts. "That was awesome!"

"I remember having a distinctly less fun time the last time I had to do that," says Leo. "Anyway, stay there. I'm going to set off the roof access alarms and lure the guards up top, then you go up the stairs and slip out the front. Got it?"

"Got it!"

Leo's plan goes perfectly, and within a few minutes he's back outside. One later and he's back on the rooftops, running to safety.

"Yessss!" he yells once he's finally far enough away, jumping in the air and pumping his fist. "Mission successful baby!"

"I knew you could do it, little bro!" cheers Leo, his voice full of pride, and it makes Mikey beam.

"Couldn't have done it without you, Leo," he says back, truthfully.

It takes Leo a second to answer, which puts the smallest damper on Mikey's enthusiasm, but finally he comes back with, "Sure thing. You know I'm always here to help."

It's not perfect. But it's getting better. Leo is getting better, every day.

Mikey's celebratory mood cannot be quashed. He whoops again, eliciting laughs from Leo's end.

"Alright, now get your butt home before Raph freaks out. He's walked past my door twelve times."

"Thirteen," Shelldon corrects.

"Thirteen!" Leo echoes.

"You got it! Mikey out!"

He clicks the earpiece to silent, then runs and jumps to the next roof with an extra spring in his step. His solo mission was a complete success!

Of course, no missions were truly solo anymore. Not with his faithful older brother ever in his ear.

[piratefishmama]

Winged Eddie has me DYING I tell you, DYING. Like, it's so so so good.

In a sort of analysis way (which I understand was probably not how you wrote it but yk death of the author and all that) the wings are a GREAT metaphor for visible queerness and disability. Just scrumptious. I am eating this concept.

But also just like on a pure enjoyment level - THIS IS SO GOOD. IM SCREAMING. Steve finding out that petting the wings is a thing for Eddie - and then having like a 3 pronged conflict because he did that, but he wasn't trying to arouse Eddie, just take care of him, and now Eddie has run away ashamed and embarrassed and Steve needs him to know that he is so so so into him but also he needs him to know that he could tell Steve to stop and that he doesn't have to be ashamed or embarrassed

Just absolutely screaming I tell you. I'm eating this whole thing. Scrumdiddlyumptious

Ehe u caught me a lil bit, I was kind of aiming for it being an "othering" sort of thing with how it's not UNCOMMON, that there's way more of them in big cities and such but they're rarer in small towns in the middle of nowhere, like queerness and disabilities in general.

Steve has always been a caretaker type too, he mothers his friends, he big brothers the kids, he's a babysitter, a caregiver, he CARES, it's his love language to provide care for someone, and what better way can he care for someone than to groom their wings for them, something they're clearly struggling to keep ontop of themselves. Eddie may seem like he's doing it on purpose but Steve's caught him struggling to itch a spot multiple times and he's SEEN him stress out over pin feathers still stuck in keratin sheaths when he thinks no-one is looking.

And Steve knows he can do that. He can help with that, an when Eddie LETS him he doesn't think anything of it because why would he? He's just helping out, he's absolutely positive that it means way more to him than it does to Eddie, but he's very wrong abt that.

Eddie is so sure Steve will be weirded out by him enjoying it like that. And Steve is so sure that he's done something wrong, and Eddie is VERY good at running and hiding, despite the wings he's pretty good at disappearing, so it's basically up to the party to figure out what the hell happened cause they're not talking and lemme tell u.

Dustin is sufficiently mortified to learn that if they were BIRDS, Steve would have been basically one step away from mounting his DM lmao. just whining cause "Steeeeeeevvee it's a boyfriend/girlfriend thing, Steve!!"

Now the question Steve is pondering is why Eddie allowed it to happen if it was a boyfriend girlfriend thing. Many thoughts. Many, many thoughts!!

[deyisacherry]

3 steps for a love confession — DCA x Y/N

First step, analyze their feelings for you. Done.

Second step, accept them. Done. Hardly.

Third step…

Confess.

There you were, sitting behind the desk. The kids had recently left, the Pizzaplex hadn't closed yet.

Good, great, wonderful. They have time.

Sun had excused himself to you, saying that he had to tidy up some things in his room. Of course… walking around the site, accustomed to nimbly dodging the pile of things lying on the floor, was the complete opposite of that.

Thank the stars that he and Moon can communicate internally, or his incessant nervous chatter would have been noticed by you a long time ago.

"How is someone supposed to confess their feelings? What are we supposed to do? You know how bad I am at telling the truth, I'll just say something stupid to avoid it and ruin it, I'm sure. Very sure!" Sun paced back and forth, his beams spinning as he tried to think. Poor thing, anyone who saw him from the outside could tell that he had gone crazy. He even moved his hands in expressive gestures as he communicated with Moon.

"Staying up here, not talking to them, probably not much will happen if we keep doing this."

"Moon! I'm serious! I'm not good at this, and you- neither are you!"

"Rude."

"You know what I mean."

"So cruel."

"Moon."

"I know, I'm just playing."

Sun sighs, stopping his pacing. "Maybe a letter? They're nice, and personal, and… oh, no, no, I'm going to get carried away and probably make them feel uncomfortable, plus I don't have self-control with details, and drawings, and glitter glue-" Sun he lets out an exasperated groan in his mind space, causing Moon to growl. "Why is this so difficult?!"

"Noisy."

"Please be of more help, you also want them to know how we feel." Sun says, with a tired expression.

"Flirt until they find out?"

"Oh, please…" Sun says annoyed, placing a hand on his forehead in disappointment.

"Hey, it's not even that terrible." Moon defends himself against his reaction. "You don't have to be too obvious… just play around."

"It's easy for you to say, you always do…"

"Not like this…"

Sun is silent for a few seconds, and then groans softly knowing that he is accepting his proposal.

"I guess we can try." He crosses his arms, looking down at the Daycare through his balcony.

"I have an idea."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"… Should I trust you?"

"Maybe you should, maybe you shouldn't." Moon responds, with a very soft laugh.

Sun has a feeling that he's going to regret it.

———

When the crepe paper rose is ready, Sun holds it in one hand, while the other one holds a piece of sticky tape.

"… This is goofy… even for me."

"If you don't try, you'll never know."

"Don't apply my sayings to me!"

"Just do it."

Sun complains silently, and begins with the last step of Moon's idea. Best scenario, it really works. Worst scenario… he'll resign himself to letting you see him and will stay in his room forever.

"… I'll blame you if anything happens."

———

There's at least an hour left before the Pizzaplex closes its doors. You are reviewing some messages that you forgot to reply to. Yep… it was definitely a good idea to have disabled the option to show when you read a message. It saves you from the idea that they will hate you for losing social energy mid-conversation and leaving them on seen.

You're in the middle of drinking some coffee you ordered, when you feel Sun approaching. You usually let him talk or do something, so you don't turn to look at him. But he doesn't do anything, so oddly enough, you look away from the screen to where you know he is.

And you're immediately greeted by the sight of Sun, with a paper rose taped to his smile. His eyes narrow with excitement as he leans across the desk. "Hello, Sunshine~"

A wink from him, and- Oop.

You just choked on your coffee from how badly that caught you off guard, coughing and covering your mouth as you look away in panic.

"Oh no, no, no! Sunshine! Sorry! Sorry! Bad timing for that! I'm really sorry!" Sun tries to get his hands closer to you but he doesn't know how to help, and seeing him with the rose still stuck to his mouth doesn't help your coughing stop.

———

"I knew it was a bad idea! I knew it! I knew it! And you knew it! You wanted to make fun of me!" Sun yells into his headspace, pressing a Freddy stuffed plushie against his face.

"But the flirting worked, they were blushing and embarrassed."

"They weren't blushing nor embarrassed! They were choking!"

"… Isn't that how embarrassed people react to something like that?"

"Moon!"

… The third step will have to be postponed.

---

edit: god dang it i just realized i made some mistakes with the font color AAA

[josnhoes]

Dc knak au with the batfam and a fem!disabled reader.

Warning: yandere (knak aus are by base yandere), mentions of illness, mentions of poor mental health

You'd been more tired lately, you noted mentally with a frown. The aches and pains had gotten worse too. When you'd woken up in the new body you had been excited thinking maybe the health problems from your past life would be gone. But no such luck.

In a way it had worked in your favor, no one wanted to adopt a weird kid let alone one who had so many struggles. At least until the Wayne family showed up. It had been a fund raiser thing, you didn't care much for the details; but all the kids at the home were in attendance. You had been forced to come despite being in a lot of pain and feeling oh so worn down.

You stayed away from the other kids, and the various adults who were there to support the home and possibly adopt. You'd limped your way into a quiet corner trying hard not to let the pain in your back make you cry in public. The head of the home sent a glare your way and you knew there would be consequences later.

This was one of the better homes in Gotham, so the punishment wouldn't be abusive. A grounding and a lecture, which sucked since you couldn't help how you physically felt. But they didn't understand, how could they? They were grown able bodied adults and to adults kids exaggerating feeling bad was common. Still you wished they try.

The batfam or the majority that had made the appearance while the others did patrol had been watching the kids like hawks. This entire event set up to scope out rumors of large foster homes being used as a front for trafficking children. They were all pleased to see this one didn't seem to have that issues. But they couldn't help but notice the one child who limped, who looked pale and more tired then any child so small should.

It was Dick who approached you a soft smile on his face, "Hey there kiddo you feeling okay?"

You recognized him no way you couldn't, "It's not important." And it wasn't he had more important things to worry about then you.

"Of course it's important," he tried to reassure you taking note of how his words just made you seem more tired and sad.

"It's really not. I'm always sick and in pain. 'S not contagious or nothing if that's what you're worried about. It just doesn't go away."

"That a pretty big word for someone so little." He gave anlaugh but the concern on his face was painfully obvious. Dick had always been the more open one emotionally, at least when he was in civilian mode. He wasn't completely readable just what he wanted people to read.

You blinked at him looking done. Maybe it was the pain, or the depression, or the over all ick you felt but you snipped at him, "I'm not a fucking idiot dickie-bird. Now please leave me alone, I just..." you gave a sigh deep and pained, "I just want to rest."

Dick was shocked, one you had just cussed at him, and two you used a nickname only Jason used. He didn't know *how* you knew it but he knew there was something about you. Even if the nickname was a coincidence you had his attention and you clearly needed their help.

He left as you closed your eyes. You hoped the matron didn't catch wind that you dropped an F-bomb at one of Bruce Wayne's kids. But at the same time you couldn't bring yourself to care. You just wanted to rest.

You wouldn't get that chance as you were approached again this time by Bruce himself, him and Damien that was. He'd been concerned at your state, but when Dick had told him to speak to you Bruce knew something was up. The whole group had been trying to stop his adoption habit yet his eldest seemed to insist he meet you.

Damien had come over simply to see what the fuss was about. Upon seeing you he couldn't help but think how pathetic you looked. Curled up in a corner so small and frail. Gotham... no the world would tear you apart. Hebwas supposed to protect the weak. He could not leave you here where obviously your needs weren't being met.

The look he shared with his father seemed to echo his own thoughts. That fact soothed him. You would never be like them, a hero; but he'd always kind of wanted a soft little sister to dote on. And if Richard's words were anything to go by you had a spark in you that he wanted to help grow.

Bruce didn't see any signs of abuse as he looked you over. You were a tad thin but he supposed if you'd been sick a while that maybe you were struggling to eat. Equally possible was you just struggled to put on weight. You weren't an unhealthy weight. God you looked so *small* like he could carry you in his hands. You weren't that small but he couldn't help but think it. And how long had it been since there was new tiny feet parading around in the manor? Maybe just maybe it was time to fix that.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! Thank you for this blog. I was wondering if you could recommend any fics where one or the other or both at once think the other is dead?I love presumed dead fics.

Hello! You can check some previous presumed dead recs here, and you may also be interested in our #temporary character death tag. Here are some more presumed dead fics...

The Empty Flat & The Burning Bookshop by probably_publius (T)

It took a lot for Aziraphale to finally give in and give Crowley the thermos of Holy Water, and when he does, he is ladden with guilt. He can only hope that he doesn't use it on himself. In this storyline, Sergeant Shadwell takes just a minute longer to run to Mr. Fell's bookshop and misses Aziraphale after he runs to Crowley's flat. Meanwhile, Crowley is driving (if you can call it driving) to the bookshop. Aziraphale finds the demon goop and his thermos of Holy Water in Crowley's empty flat, his best friend gone. Crowley finds the bookshop in flames, his best friend gone. Warnings!!! You have been warned! Heavy angst, some swearing, reference to murder , reference to discorporation, reference to stealing, mention of Nazis, themes of and apparent suicide, themes of depression, self-loathing, and self-guilt.

Fractured Heart by Blue_Sparkle (T)

Angels are sturdy beings, but rigid and changeless and not meant to endure grief or loss. When thousands Fall and many more are slain in the Great Rebellion, they either literally break apart...or forget. Aziraphale's only memories of his lost beloved are his lover's skill at creating stars. Memories he cherishes above all else. It complicates matters when his heart starts attaching to a certain demon, but perhaps his time on earth can teach him how to heal.

Stitches by CaspianTheGeek (E)

Until now, Aziraphale's family has seen fit to ignore him slipping into the village to see his tailor-turned-lover. That is until the King dies and Aziraphale's brother decides it is time he finds a proper match. Crowley is sent to prison and Aziraphale is told he has died for daring to love the prince. Love isn't so easily stopped, and Crowley is determined to return to Aziraphale however he can. (I promise, this will absolutely have a happy ending. As all my stories do.)

Anyway, Don't Be A Stranger by Juno_Sunlit (T)

It's been 10 years since Crowley died, and Aziraphale has mourned for every single minute. It's also been 10 years since Aziraphale died, and Crowley, up in the stars, has done the same. To God's chagrin, neither is aware of the other's continued existence. Sick and tired of grief big enough to end a universe, She sends them both on a trip through their old haunts, hoping they'll meet. All is as well and good as possible until something happens to Aziraphale, and a grieving Crowley must unknowingly come to his rescue. Includes musings on existence, gentle, warm flashbacks, demonic heists of a homosexual nature, God in slippers, asshole Gabriel, tearful reunions, the inherent tenderness of loving someone ever so much, and, through all the sorrow, a very happy ending.

A Beautiful Fiction by Thestarlitrose (E)

Nineteen years after having his memories of Crowley stolen, Aziraphale encounters Warlock and has everything come rushing back to him. Together; with the help of an ex-antichrist, they embark on a journey through the Southeastern, United States to locate Crowley to bring him home, where he belongs. Chapters with smut and other potential triggers will be listed in the notes.

The Ghost of Husbands Past by A_N_D (E)

Az always knew that he’d be thrown out the moment his father found out he was gay. He hadn’t expected to be declared dead though - or for his husband to believe it! But their marriage had been a foolish teenage impulse (not to mention invalid in America), so when Az moved to a small town far upstate New York to start his new life, he moved alone. The kindest thing he could do was let Crowley mourn and move on, not be shackled for life to a now disabled partner. Tony Crowley never recovered from losing his best friend, his childhood sweetheart, his better half. He’d been drifting ever since; no plans, no hope, no money - and now, just before Thanksgiving, no job either. Given the stark choice of freezing to death or accepting his sister’s invitation to join her upstate, Tony reluctantly lives out the Hallmark cliche of Recently Unemployed Person Moves to Small Town for Christmas. It’s a time of hope, love, and family. It’s time for Az and Tony to find each other again.

- Mod D

[happyhauntt]

gold rush modern au hcs

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: the anya / nikolai brainrot is real and i want to start writing for their modern au so until i do, here are some fun headcanons bc i literally cannot stop thinking about them.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

anya lets her guard down when she's drunk and early on in their situationship it's the only time nikolai gets to take care of her.

like she calls him to come and get her from a frat party genya took her to and she's so cuddly he's honestly concerned she's been drugged and/or cloned

like 'who are you and what have you done with the girl who bullies me like her life depends on it???'

he's so soft for it when he realises she's just drunk and he tucks her up in her bed with painkillers and a trash can within reach and he sits on the couch until dawn to make sure she's okay and then slips out before she wakes up.

everyone: 'for someone who hates nikolai you sure are obsessed with him'. anya: 'no i'm not???' everyone: 'sure you aren't babe'.

they are the definition of 'fell first, fell harder' !!!

nikolai was out here pining for anya for years, and she just wakes up one day and gets slammed like a fucking freight train with the realisation. oh fuck. i'm in love with nikolai. somehow. how the fuck did that happen. WHY the fuck did that happen. my life is over.

this is right after nikolai is injured at winter fête during an assassination attempt against his father and her whole world just screeches to a halt.

genya and david are just in the corner and david's handing genya a wad of cash and they're laughing while anya has her little meltdown it's adorable.

entering into a friends-with-benefits situation when anya is engaged to vasily (it's an uno-reverse plot of their original story where nikolai is engaged to alina bc PARALLELS and also i can't let them be happy in any universe without first making them suffer) is a Bad Idea but these two are nothing if not self-destructive.

anya may be in love with him but she doesn't have the emotional capacity to Deal with that yet so she's just gonna fuck him.

being friends-with-benefits is all well and good until nikolai gets so fucking jealous of anyone who even looks at anya. she finds this hilarious (until someone's looking at nikolai and then she's throwing hands.)

anya is very insecure about her disability, especially because of her status and expectations, and nikolai makes it his duty to show her how much he adores every inch of her, every day.

anya is engaged to vasily and she and nikolai fully get caught by zoya sneaking out of the engagement party to go makeout in the bathroom. these two are gonna give her premature grey hairs honestly-

anya admits to nikolai that she misses being able to dance. nikolai helps her dance around her apartment by supporting her weight and they're giggling and suddenly they're slow dancing and it's so fuckin adorable.

it's hard to believe anya was so mean to him for literal years.

nsfw beneath the cut!

anya learning she's actually a sub is so fucking funny

like she is so submissive during sex but absolutely not at first. she has a dire need for control in her life and definitely runs their sex life/tops for the first few months.

it's really significant the first time she realises she trusts nikolai and surrenders that control to him, because what she really wants is someone to take care of her, someone to trust completely.

she's so bossy at first and then sex becomes this thing where she just melts and nikolai literally thinks he'll die the first time she allows him that control because it's like seeing anya for the first time, and he's so in love with her already even if it's just sex but in that moment he swears he fell in love with her again. knowing he had her trust like that was,,, everything.

teasing eachother like it's an olympic sport?? more likely than you think.

like she used to hate him (lol not really) and now it's her personal fucking mission to rile him up at any given opportunity. public events?? in the library?? at her own fucking engagement party?? you got it.

nikolai fucking anya in her wedding dress??? yes.

because she is a masochist and doesn't know when to stop hurting herself (or nikolai honestly) she's like 'hey it arrived from it's final fitting, can i show it to you?' and he wants to say no so badly.

she's marrying his asshole brother, there is no world where he wants to see this dress, see her in it, picture her wearing it for someone other than him.

but her eyes are so wide, so vulnerable, and he realises she needs this. needs him to be the first person to see her wearing it. needs him to understand.

so she comes out, and he's honestly,,, floored. and angry. and so, so turned on. his eyes grow dark and hungry and before they know it he's hiking the dress up to her waist and fucking her against the doorframe.

and it's so possessive and full of remember you're my good girl, not his and when you're saying your vows, you gonna think of this? think of me fucking you in this dress? you're so beautiful, my darling, he doesn't deserve you. look at me. you're gonna walk down the aisle and all i'll be able to picture is your face as you come for me.

it's so hot and the room smells like sex and nikolai takes a picture of her in the dress afterwards, draped on the bed, face flushed and eyes shining and happy. and he'll pretend it's their wedding night.

[scoobydoodean]

sam tricking dean into seeing a faith healer (and getting healed) by saying it was a specialist is something i dont see discussed imo because its akin to violating medical consent?

like dean was going to die and hed pretty much accepted it. but sam hadnt.

dean literally asks him "youre not gonna let me die in peace, are you?"

at no point does sam think about what dean wants. dean is the one dying, but its sam who decides that they cant just accept, its sam who goes looking for a supernatural cure, its sam who tricks dean into going to see a faith healer. its all sam sam sam.

when dean is the one dying; he is the one who should get to make these choices. if dean decides he doesnt want to spend his last week's alive chasing down a cure, that should be final. the decision should be deans alone because dean is the one dying, not sam.

sam should have respected deans decision. but sam didnt and yeah its understandable his brother is dying and all, but then he deliberately misleads dean so hell agree to go to nebraska to see the specialist who dean - reasonably - assumes is a doctor.

if nothing else, the deception alone is equal to violating medical consent. its the equivalent of leading a patient into believing theyre going to receive one treatment and then giving them another.

maybe its the angry disabled in me, but it frustrates me to no end when samgirls talk about dean always making decisions for sam when sam uwu baby winchester decides dean doesnt even get to make decisions for himself when hes fucking dying.

So I will say—I don't think Dean wanted to die after his heart got damaged in 1.12. I think he didn't think Sam could do anything and because of that, he was ready to accept the reality of death. He actually expected Sam to be willing to leave him behind, but when Sam wasn't and actually wanted to try and save him, I do think Dean was touched by that and was willing to go along with it. We see that Dean doesn't want to die in 2.01, when Ghost!Dean pleads with Sam and John to save his life, and in 1.22 when Dean begs John "Don't you let it kill me."

Sam most certainly did lie by omission about where he was taking Dean though. He knew Dean wouldn't be amenable to seeing some christian faith healer in a tent, so he omitted certain details to get him in the car. Sam does something very similar in 3.15 "Time Is On My Side".

While Dean was willing to try (thus his willingness to see a specialist), he wasn't really down to see the religious faith healer—that's absolutely true—and if we reversed the situation and Dean had done this to Sam, samgirls would never shut up about it. For me personally, Sam's unhinged ploys to save Dean are one of his more entertaining qualities though. Even if I don't always like how it works out, I enjoy seeing Sam do extremely unhinged things and easily brush it under the rug afterwards.

What's more troublesome to me is that in taking Dean to see this faith healer, ushering him into the tent when Dean is really too sick to put up more than verbal protests, and then insisting Dean sit up front and then go up on stage (with added pressure from the crowd)... the outcome of that is... terrible. Of course, it's something terrible that Sam does not know about or expect. Sam didn't know that when Dean got healed, someone else would die. But the simple fact is that Sam easily dismissed it.

DEAN Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me? SAM Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed.

Dean didn't have such an easy time. Dean had to live with it. Dean had to contend with the knowledge that not only had someone died so he could be healed, but that his life was saved over Layla's life, which made him feel terrible. The entire situation made Dean feel so guilty and horrible and wrong that he stopped running from the reaper at the end of the episode and planned to let it kill him so that Layla could live, and all of this resulted from a situation that started with... Sam tricking Dean. Is it any wonder that Dean immediately says "No" in 3.01 when Sam wants to take him to another faith healer?

[threadsun]

*slides in wearing a cute kitty costume for halloween*

So, since Elias doesn't show many symptoms of MS in game what are some symptoms you'd think he'd have? Along with any behavior changes he might have? (I'm asking you what your Elias would look like basically)

You're the cutest kitty and I'm kissing you with tongue!!!

So he definitely would have coordination issues and muscle weakness and spasms imo. Whether or not they've progressed to the point of full time wheelchair use idk, but he definitely would've had a part time one. Wheelchairs were pretty common (and cool-looking) in Victorian and Edwardian times, so it's not unreasonable at all.

Chronic pain and fatigue also make sense to me, including peripheral neuropathy. Lots of tingling/shooting nerve pains, definitely. And he suddenly becomes overwhelmed with bouts of fatigue so bad that he has to sit or lay down immediately, his eyes start watering, he can't help but yawn... just one moment perfectly fine and the next moment exhausted beyond belief.

I also like to imagine him with some cute glasses he wears on occasion because he gets blurry vision and sometimes double vision. Reading takes him longer than most people because of it, but he has plenty of time to read so it doesn't stop him.

I imagine his speech to involve more tripping over his words, almost like his tongue is too big for his mouth. If he really slows down and makes an effort to enunciate he's usually fine, but sometimes he just can't get his tongue to cooperate with what he wants to say. And if he gets excited and starts speaking quickly, it gets worse.

He'd also struggle with his memory and his ability to process things. He sort of just needs a moment to retrieve things and comprehend what's happening or being said to him. He tries to react as quickly as he can because he's used to people getting annoyed about it, but he does need a good minute or two every so often to let his brain catch up to whatever's going on.

And because disability isn't all cute quirky stuff, he'd absolutely have difficulty with his continence. He was always thankful that he was never too far from a bathroom, being housebound. But he also got very used to calling his maid up to change his bedsheets when he had a bladder spasm or anything of the sort. (Also because I love to sexualise disabilities as a disabled person, piss kink go brrrr)

Anyway I feel like there's. Significantly more they could've done with his MS (or like. Anything. They could've done Anything with it.) so that's how I would do it/how he is on my blog! And no, this stuff doesn't change/miraculously go away when he becomes a ghost because fuck that.

[altargarden]

Hi, do you have any advice for communicating with Lucifer for the first time? Even advice about not having an altar or offerings to do so? Any help is appreciated! I heard he's great with shadow work and is very kind to work with and understanding. -Jade

just as a heads up, my approach to demon work is a lot different from the norm due to my disability and i just want to preface this with a statement:

demon contact can be as simple or complex as you want it to be.

you wanna just say (or think/pray) "hey lucifer"? go for it.

you wanna do a whole summoning ritual with food and wine offerings and candlelights and sigils and enns? go for it.

if you don't feel anything back energetically speaking that doesn't mean he's not there and listening.

additionally on the other end of the spectrum, complexity does not guarantee you verified contact. don't let witchy-flavoured capitalism fool you. burning your $100+ lucifer sigil candle will not guarantee you as an audience with him.

i'll say it again, complexity does not guarantee you verified contact.

no, not even that $500+ "guaranteed" lucifer summoning ritual you saw on etsy with sparkling reviews. people want to take advantage of you, don't let anyone fool you into thinking that you need anything but yourself and your will to talk to lucifer. if you don't have an altar or offerings or anything at all, then that's not going to stop him from receiving whatever message you send to him. hell, it won't even stop him from talking back, if he so desires.

and above all, and i've said this before, just experiment. fuck around and find out. jump right in and accept the consequences. if you're not ready for any potential consequences, don't do it. be respectful. treat him as you would any other spirit or deity. find somewhere comfortable, and start talking (or thinking if speaking aloud isn't safe). that's how i've always done it, even if that involved making plentiful mistakes (such is the nature of experimentation).

good luck and have fun <3

[kookie-doughs]

Maybe Hero

Hawks / Keigo Takami X Reader

-Y/N L/N a UA’s 1st year Department of Support was mistaken by the No. 2 hero as a hero.

Chapter 1: Robots and Swords

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Your quirk is Technokinesis

There's a lot to unpack in this quirk, you'll just learn more about it through out the story or you can look it up online I'm probably goinf to follow what it says there to keep the character from being too OP

You can have the ability to create a machine if you have the blueprint in your mind and the materials in front of you. Mei doesn't want you to try the suit because your quirk optimises to you and prevents any malfunction thus the blue print would be altered without knowing what went wrong.

The optimise only works if youre in contact with the said machine. When contact is lost, the machine would revert back to it unoptimised version.

Example you connected the wrong wires, it could cause an explosion when touched the wires correct themselves, when untouched it unconnects. Even if in battle when youre firing left and right it will explode when contact is lost.

You can manipulate any data and equipment with a look but only to some degree, your power works best if you hold it, which triggers the "fix everything when touched" part of your quirk so its difficult to adjust in between. You can also analyse any equipment or such but it only gives off surface level information, once again deep analysis work when in contact. Your analysis only gives about the machine, such as function, who, when, where it was made and whether its faulty. Deep analysis gives all the materials used and their function, if you inspect a faulty one it shows those despite the machine working fine as is.

Only minor altercations can be done by sight. Changing the street light from red to green or changing your scores in arcades or make the claw hold the toy tighter. In fight lets say Katsuki is supposed to explode using this gauntlet, you can prevent that one click once because you do have a cool down so if he barrages you with it you can stop about 25% of his attacks.

A big altercation you can do is when holding the equipment you can disable it. Lets say youre playing in the arcade, you hold the claw machine you can shut down the entire mall as theyre all connected. You can also stop anything motor powered.

You can feel every equipment around 30 meters when you focus. If something is faulty to the point of danger you are alerted and you have to figure out whats wrong. It doesn't say what's wrong.

When you have the blueprint and the function in mind you can restore, repair and return any broken or damaged non-living object to its optimal state no matter how long it has been broken or how damaged it was.

Most importantly, you can move your consciousness to an equipment, machine or any of sort when your body fails(passive) or on command as long as your body is within 20 meters. Your body would be locked in a cylinder shield to prevent damage. You can stay in another body for 5 minutes max. You can not possess the equipment causing you danger(unless it was passively activated and its the only thing around). You can move your consciousness every 12 hours.

I almost forgot to say this you can not mess with someone else's quirk. You cant turn off the charger if its plugged on Denki. But if Overhaul or Tomura breaks a computer you can bring it back if you know the necessary information about it, you can not deep analyse a computer that broken down but you can still surface analyse it.

Mei and you work together a lot she's often the one making blue prints and you create the blueprints so she can adjust them. It gives her more time to hone her creations. She may be better at making them but you're not that far behind.

Shinsou has been your friend since a child as you were the only one unafraid of him, because he cant penetrate your mind easily, because you always move your consciousness passively when he tries.

Im sorry if the explanation is bad or its too overpowered but yeah thats your quirk for this story. I'll try to adjust the quirk to be less overpowered.

-kookiedoughs

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @applepie-macaroon @nykie-love-anime @qardasngan

[offsidekineticist]

Ohhhh this took forever, and it was genuinely painful to write at times, but I did it. Mind the CWs, this chapter is less "fantasy action and True Love's Kiss" and more "watching a loved one struggle to adjust to a new disability really fucking sucks, doesn't it?" Although those who have played the Hell's Rebels AP will probably have fun with the references.

CW: debilitating chronic pain, medical gore/hypothetical body horror, rationing of medication, doctors one after the other saying they can't help, implied suicidal ideation, looming possibility of unmedicated chronic pain, loss of religious support, subversion of due process, toxic family dynamic, mentions of bookburning and purges, and the desecration of remains and exploitation of tragedies for the entertainment of the Public

Excellent Work

You wake to the sound of pained hisses and groans and whimpers, almost as exhausted you were when you went to sleep. You slip out of the oversized bed and walk to the other side. Theo is burrowed into Giliys's chest, arms crossed over his own chest with his eyes squeezed shut, tears sliding down his face. Giliys, wide awake, is cradling Theo's head in his arms. He glares at you.

"Is the pain bad enough now?" Giliys demands accusingly. You ignore him as you retrieve the bottle of flayleaf extract. Theo was doing better earlier. You had thought he'd be alright until morning, but the chill of the night must have brought the pain back with a vengeance. You measure out an amount you hope will be enough to let Theo go back to sleep–or start sleeping, if he never fell asleep in the first place.

"Theo, can you hear me?" you ask, holding the spoon of flayleaf extract in your hand. He nods with a whimper. "Alright, I have some medicine to help with the pain. Open your mouth?"

He obeys, keeping his eyes shut, and you bring the spoon to his mouth. He swallows the extract, and you take back the spoon. It takes a few minutes, but the sounds of pain gradually become less frequent, and then stop altogether as the exhaustion puts Theo to sleep.

"I told you, you don't have to ration it. If they won't believe you're a healer, I can get more," Giliys hisses.

"The last thing we need is one of us getting arrested for drug smuggling," you snap. "And I don't trust the quality you'd be getting, either. We need to make it last until I can find a healer who can fix his hands."

"If you haven't found one yet, you're not going to find one without heading to Absalom. You need to figure out a way to get him regular meds–he can't live like this."

You take a deep breath to avoid snapping. You know this isn't tenable. You're a goddamned healer, of course you know Theo can't live like this. But you're already doing the best you can. It's been a month, and the best you've been able to do for his hands is immobilize them in crude splints made of bandages and tongue depressors. Your healing magic is useless because his bones have been crushed to the point that you can't set them without surgery, and you can't use healing magic on bones that haven't been set right because that's how you get bony growths piercing through skin and creating a constant infection risk. You've tried to find a healer who can help him–almost every day since he's been strong enough to walk, you've dragged Theo up to Temple Hill, going from temple to temple looking for help. It always ends the same way: another healer, face drained of color, apologetically explaining this is beyond their ability to heal while you carefully re-splint Theo's exposed fingers and pretend not to notice his tears.

Giliys is right, though. Theo's pain is too intense for you to manage while also rationing your remaining supply of medicine. You keep overestimating how much he can go without so you keep having to give him even larger doses to bring his pain back under control. It's become a vicious cycle that's depleting your supply far more quickly than you expected. Something needs to be done.

"I'll contact the church," you finally say. "If I can get the priests to vouch for me, I can get the credentials I need to order more medicine legally. Then it will just be a matter of finding the money."

Giliys gives you a disbelieving stare. "It can't be that easy. You'd have done it by now if it was that easy."

"I was prioritizing finding a permanent solution so we could use our money on the permanent solution, but since that solution seems farther away than expected, I am reprioritizing."

"They're gonna be pissed at you, aren't they?" Giliys asks, eyes widening in realization. "Shit, Qweck–you don't have to go back to them, I'll figure something out–"

"I'm a cleric, not a slave," you snap, too exhausted to deal with Giliys conflating accountability with abuse yet again. "I won't be flogged for returning after an…error of judgment."

His expression closes off at that. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say, princess. I'm gonna get some sleep." He closes his eyes, and you get the feeling he would have rolled over to face away from you if he could move without disturbing Theo.

You return to your side of the bed, but you don't sleep. You haven't just been avoiding this because of priorities. You aren't a slave and you won't be flogged, but that doesn't mean reporting to your former colleagues after abandoning your duties to commit a novel's worth of crimes will be pleasant. Especially not when you need something from them. 

You lay awake through the telltale signs of morning–first the moonlight disappears, then you hear the sound of dockworkers leaving their homes to go to work. Then you hear children giggling on their way to school. It is only after you hear the shouts of the newscryer that you see sunlight peeking through the windows. The sun rises late in Kintargo–it takes time to rise past the peaks of the Menador Mountains. You still aren't used to it.

You don't stir until Theo does. You're too afraid of waking him, given how little he sleeps these days. You would guess it's about an hour after sunrise when his eyes open with a groan. Giliys wakes immediately, and the three of you begin what has become your morning routine. You put on a pair of flowy trousers and then tie a sash around your waist over the chemise you wore to bed before beginning to prepare breakfast while Giliys, still only half-dressed himself, helps Theo get dressed. You were surprised at first to see how adept Giliys is at this task, easily managing Theo's clothes and disarming his pride with unexpectedly earnest assurances of "allow me" and "here, I've got that" and so on.  

"Shave?" Giliys asks as he does every morning. 

"No," Theo says flatly as he does every morning, apparently unbothered by the patchy, scraggly not-quite-a-beard on his face. He used to shave daily, absolutely meticulous about his appearance. You suspect he doesn't trust an assassin to hold a razor blade to his throat. Then again, he won't let you shave him, either.

There's no table or chairs in your apartment, so the three of you sit on the floor to eat the rest of yesterday's leftovers, preserved with the same magic you were taught to preserve corpses. You know there are other spells that can conjure food out of thin air–you ate such food regularly during your days as a novice training at the monastery before your ordination–but you never learned such spells. According to Giliys you never learned to make food without magic, either, though he usually keeps his opinion of your cooking to himself until he's at least tasted the food, which usually isn't until after Theo has finished eating. Theo rarely comments on the food at all. Instead he just gets more irritated as Giliys has to spoon feed him because he can't hold anything with his hands splinted as they are. 

You finish your meal before Giliys is even halfway through spooning the leftover shellfish stew for Theo. You put your empty bowl on the cold stovetop–Giliys will take care of washing the dishes while you're out–and slip on your shoes before offering your farewells and heading out the door. 

Hocum's Phantasmagorium has been abandoned since long before your arrival in the city, apparently created by a man allegedly eager to spread joy and wonder in the wake of the then recently ended Chelish Civil War. You were born too late to have seen that time, but given the dark looks and sullen silence you got whenever you tried to ask Theo about that time as a child, you feel it is safe to assume joy was in short supply in those days.

Whatever the intent of this Mr. Hocum, you can't help but feel the downfall of his business was a boon to the city. Walking through what's left of the exhibits, the degree of misinformation and shameless, voyeuristic exploitation of tragedies (such as the Temple Hill Slasher's murder spree) strikes you as tasteless at best. Let the Opera house and dancehalls bring joy to the city. They do not display the remains of sasquatches - intelligent humanoids - for entertainment.

You idly wonder if there is some way of laying those bones to rest, some family of sasquatches that would be grateful to have their remains returned, as you approach the reason for your trespass in this supposedly abandoned building: a statue of Aroden nestled in a small alcove. The god of prophecies is dead and hears prayers no more, but you are not here to pay tribute. You have to climb up the statue to reach it–this place was built by tallfolk–but on the statue's chest, circled by Azlanti runes, is Araden's holy symbol, the eye of Aroden. Blind as it may be, it still has its uses. You turn the pupil of the eye, pointing it from rune to rune, until you have spelled the name of the Master of Masters whom Aroden once called friend: IRORI.

With a groan of stone scraping stone, the statue moves, and you release your grip on the dead god's arm to leap back to the floor outside the alcove. The statue stops, revealing a spiral staircase to the basement below, and you descend to the only place in Kintargo dedicated to Irori: the Many-Steps Monastery

You had always intended to visit this monastery. Built from the basement of Hocum's museum after it closed, it served as a treasure trove of pre-Thrune art, literature, and history. Its existence was not commonly known in the church of Irori, but Giliys caught wind of it through contacts with the Bellflower Network, so he passed the information onto you. That is how you first came in contact with the Sacred Order of Archivists–the order of Irorian scholars dedicated to preserving Chelish history and culture–a connection that proved fruitful through the years until they suddenly went silent. The only explanation you received was that their sudden silence coincided with "The Night of Ashes" and the late Barzillai Thrune's crackdown on Kintargan dissidents.

If you look closely, you can still see evidence of Thrune's raid–scorch marks on walls, occasional burgundy stains on the floor–but for the most part the place seems ready for scholars to return. Based on the Message you received not long after your arrival in Kintargo, they already have. Or, rather, one has.

You find Corvinius Basad in one of the scholar's cells, standing over an open book laid out on the desk in front of him. He holds his hand, glowing pale blue with divine power, over a book, opened to a section where pages have been torn out. He is older than you remember from your days as novices–the long braid looped around his neck, typical of the Irorian priesthood, is streaked with gray, and his face is now lined from age–but that is to be expected. That was a quarter of a century ago, and humans age so much faster than gnomes.

"Just a moment," Corvinius says, not looking up from the mutilated text before him. Before you can reply, the tattered remains of one of the torn out pages begins to shift and then grow. You stare in awe as the book seems to heal before your very eyes, and a single page, ink and all, is restored.

"How did you do that?" You blurt out as Corvinius straightens and wipes a bead of sweat from his brow. He grins.

"Wonderful, isn't it? A little trick I picked up from a friend. She uses it for somewhat less altruistic purposes, which is likely why it can only be used to restore a single page at a time." He grimaces. "It's slow going, but the alternative is to allow what the Asmodeans destroyed to be lost forever. In any case, it is good to see you again, Sister." He bows his head slightly in greeting, and you return the gesture with some embarrassment.

"And you as well, Brother. Forgive my rudeness–I did not expect to see a miracle performed today."

Corvinius snorts. "I heal books one page at a time, sister. You heal bodies with a single spell. Which of us is the miracle worker?"

You nod politely, trying to keep the flare of guilt from your face. You wouldn't be here if you were a miracle worker. 

"I am, nonetheless, glad you are so intrigued," Corvinius continues, sitting down at the desk and, with loving care, gently setting aside the book he was repairing. "Because this work is why I contacted you."

That surprises you. You had assumed that Corvinius, as the nearest representative of the Church, had been tasked with convening a hearing that would determine the severity of your Censure for abandoning your post, and you tell him as much. Corvinius seems surprised, and then strokes his chin thoughtfully.

"Of course–I had assumed news would have reached you, but in retrospect, things being as they are–" he pulls himself from his thoughts and meets your gaze. "An emergency hearing was held without you. Very irregular, but, under the circumstances, politically necessary."

"Politically necessary," you repeat.

"Well, yes. Thrune wipes out an lrorian order for hoarding banned books, and just over a year later an Irorian priest rampages through a hellknight citadel to rescue a dissident also accused of hoarding banned books? The church in Cheliax has been walking a tightrope for years now. They can't be associated with the most wanted woman in Cheliax."

A yawning void opens in the pit of your stomach. There's only one way the church could avoid being associated with one of its priests. "I've been excommunicated, haven't l?" 

To be excommunicated is a priest's worst nightmare. It is to be barred from participating in church life or holy rituals, no longer entitled to the support or assistance of the church. It is a punishment reserved for those who have committed unrepentant anathema against their god, usually only enacted after Irori himself has expressed his rejection by taking back their divine powers or cursing them for their blasphemy. It is a punishment always handed down by a council of elders after lengthy deliberation that always includes the testimony of the accused. To excommunicate someone in absentia when they have neither committed anathema nor been subject to divine punishment would be a travesty–it should not happen.

And yet, even before Corvinius answers, you know that it has, and you understand why. 

In a gesture far too nonchalant for the situation, Corvinius holds up his hand and wiggles it in a "so-so" type motion.

"You've been excommunicated in Cheliax. I doubt anyone outside Cheliax will care, assuming lrori hasn't taken back his power–he hasn't, has he?"

"No, of course not!" you say, momentarily losing your composure at the mere idea that you would commit a sin egregious enough that Irori himself would take notice.

"There you go. And, for the time being at least, Kintargo is not in Cheliax. So when l ask if you would be willing to join me in rebuilding the Sacred Order and its collection, I am a servant of Irori requesting assistance from a fellow servant of lrori."

Still reeling from your excommunication, it takes a moment to process what is being asked of you–long enough that Corvinius continues. "Ultimately I'd like to renovate the building above so the entire complex can be a temple. True, it's not Temple Hill, but I personally see that as a boon. We will be accessible to those who need us most. That's all in the future, of course–until we know we are safe here, we'll continue to keep the order and the monastery secret. We can't risk the church being associated with even more dissident activity. For now the most pressing matter–"

"You realized I abandoned my flock, yes?" you interrupt. "Politics or no, I should be censured for my actions."

Corvinius shrugs. "I am less inclined to judge you for that. There were extenuating circumstances. And even if there weren't…I am attempting to restore an entire library of damaged books one page at a time. I need help. And, given the circumstances of your alleged excommunication, I thought you and your compatriots might be interested in our work. Or at least in a place to stay rent-free in exchange for fixing books."

You can feel the blood drain out of your face at the thought of that. You can't ask that of Theo–he's too lost, too fragile. He won't see the danger, won't see how precarious Ravounel's independence is, how easily history could repeat itself. You can still see him as he was when you found him, emaciated and exhausted, body battered and wounded and covered with dried blood and filth, hands mangled and crushed and the haunted look in his eyes–

"Absolutely not," you say with more vehemence than you intend. "I'm not here so you can draft my f–my friend into a doomed secret society when he can't even turn a page on his own." 

Corvinius's eyes widen in surprise. "Obviously it would be his choice, I have no intention of-"

"No. He's not–they had him for weeks, do you understand? Do you have any idea what that does to a person? What they do to people? He can't go through that again. It would destroy him."

"May I ask–no, nevermind."

He backtracks quickly, and so you are intrigued. "Ask what?"

"Nothing–the question would have been inappropriate."

You squint at him warily. "Now I have to know what it was."

"I don't–"

"Just ask the goddamned question, Corv!"

Corvinius sighs. "Fine. I wanted to ask who are you trying to protect? Him or yourself?"

Rage blooms in your chest. How dare he? "I gave up everything to save Theo, and you have the gall to question whether I'm trying to protect him?" 

"I only meant–"

"No. Nuh-uh. Stop. I don't give a fuck what you meant. The answer is no. I'm not here to let you prey on my father when he's too weak to stand up for himself, I'm here to get a representative of the Church of lrori to vouch for my credentials so I can get him the meds he needs for his life not to feel like a tribute to Zon-Kuthon. Now can you do that?"

He looks almost regretful. "The Church of Irori can't officially be in Kintargo until the situation has stabilized–it could put all of our brethren at–" 

"Yes or no, Corv?"

"No. But I–"

"Fine. Thanks for nothing."

You think you hear him calling after you as you storm out, but you're not inclined to listen. You're fuming the whole way up the spiral steps and back through the tacky so-called museum. How dare he try to take advantage of your situation? How dare he try to recruit you immediately after revealing your excommunication? How dare he reveal that and then dismiss it as nothing?

The most galling part is that if he hadn't been so slimy about it, you would probably have agreed–not to recruiting Theo, of course, but to joining him yourself. It's not as if you hate the idea. You were close as novices, and though you've both changed, it would have been nice to have the chance to catch up. And while you'd hate spending your days casting the same spell over and over, spending days restoring a single book, you believe in the cause, and you're willing to endure tedium for the sake of your beliefs.

But dragging Theo into it? When you're still not certain Ravounel will be able to maintain its independence, and Corvinius is rebuilding the order in the same place Thrune already raided? Theo is already so broken from what happened in Rivad, and Corvinius has the gall to ask more of him? You should be planning your escape in case Ravounel is reoccupied, not joining a secret society that has already died once! 

Still furious, you return to the apartment to find Theo and Giliys in their usual places. Theoven sits cross-legged on the oversized bed, slouched forward to read a book laid flat in front of him, Giliys sitting beside him, dutifully turning pages at his signal. Giliys turns at the sound of the door opening and gives you a perfunctory nod. To your surprise, Theo looks up from his reading at the sound of your entry. 

"Welcome back," Theo says, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end because it's the most like himself he's seemed in weeks, but it's so unfamiliar to you now that it feels like a trick. "Giliys said you were going to speak to the Irorians about your credentials," he continues, and you relax slightly–the other shoe has dropped. “How did it go?"

"The Church of lrori does not have an official presence in Kintargo, and it will not until Ravounel's independence is more secure," you recite. Theo does not let his emotions show on his face, but it's not hard to guess his thoughts on the matter. 

"And unofficially?"

You shouldn't be so transparent to those outside the church, especially someone with such a big target on his back, but, truthfully, you're beyond caring. If Theo is going to have to resort to Giliys's black market contacts to manage his pain, he deserves to know why. "Unofficially they're setting up a monastery at the headquarters of a lost Irorian order."

"The Sacred Order of Archivists?" Theoven asks, and you have to stop yourself from gaping.

"How do you know about them?"

"Giliys mentioned them, years ago."

You roll your eyes with a sigh. "Of course he did." It's a silly thing to be upset about at this point, but it still galls you just how blatantly Giliys ignored your admonitions to leave your family out of your resistance work.  

"The guy already had more illegal books than I'd seen in the rest of my life fucking combined," Giliys explains defensively. "I just thought he might want to–"

"You knew about the books?" you interrupt. Giliys freezes for a second before doing his best to feign nonchalance.

"I mean, I didn't know just how fucking many he had. He just kept trying to lend them to me before he figured out I couldn't fucking read–"

"When you destroyed one of them," Theo says, and you can tell his patience is beginning to fray. Giliys slouches slightly.

"I said I was sorry," he says with a meekness that seems wrong coming from him.

"Sorry doesn't bring back priceless artifacts of pre-Thrune Chelaxian culture," Theo observes, the claws beginning to come out.

"But you found out–it was an accident?" you interrupt, because you need to know and the conversation is going to die with the last of Theo's patience. "Like you went through his bag when he wasn't looking or–or something?"

Giliys looks uncomfortable now. "No, he, uh, he just loaned me a book and said to be careful cuz it was very rare and also incredibly fucking illegal."

You don't know what to say to that. Theo had never even hinted to you that he owned anything untoward, but he just handed the evidence of a potentially capital crime to an assassin because he thought he'd enjoy some light reading?

Clearing his throat, Giliys starts again. "So, uh, yeah, I thought he might be interested in getting in touch with the order, but he said you'd get more use out of that, so–"

"You told him first?!" 

"I am sitting right here, if you would like to lodge a complaint," Theo says, crossing his arms, an unusual edge to his voice. "Not that you have much of a leg to stand on, given how adamant you were that I never find out about your resistance work."

You don't physically flinch, but your insides recoil at the accusation. "I was trying to protect you."

"Yes, excellent work on that, by the way."

There is something inside you–something steadfast and solid that has been straining to carry you through this ordeal. You can hear it crack under the force of that jab.

"She did her best, Thay," Giliys says quietly as you listen to the cracks spread.

"It doesn't really matter when her best leaves me unable to feed myself, does it?" Theo retorts flatly, not even glancing in Giliys's direction and holding up a bandaged hand for emphasis, and you feel a flare of frustration.

"It's not forever," you insist. "We'll find you a healer who can fix your hands, you just have to be patient."

Charcoal gray eyes flash dangerously as he speaks. "Patient? I have been nothing if not patient while you drag me from useless healer to useless healer because your pride can't stand the idea that maybe there's something you can't fix."

Corvinius's words echo in your ears. Who are you trying to protect? The anger flares in your chest anew. "You have no business lecturing me on pride, not with the stunts you've been pulling."

Refusing to eat because he can't stand being spoon fed; routinely soiling himself for days before breaking down and accepting help with the toilet; almost killing himself trying to shave–the past few weeks have taught you that Theoven Derenge is nothing if not proud.

"Forgive me for not being the perfect patient. I had assumed it was acceptable to be imperfect considering I am being cared for by a blatantly imperfect priest."

You almost snarl at the jab at your commitment to your faith, but your self-control wins out. "Would you rather I let you die in Rivad so I could be a more perfect priest?"

He has the audacity to shrug. "At the very least, I'd get some peace and quiet."

You gape at him. "I abandoned my calling to break you out. Giliys and Kob almost died before we even found you. And you're so determined not to show gratitude that you'd say something like that?"

"I never asked anyone to do anything for me. That was your decision," Theo retorts, voice chillingly even. "Nobody is stopping you from going back to your calling. Perhaps you'll actually be useful there."

"Okay, maybe we should all just shut the fuck up now before someone somehow says something even fucking worse," Giliys interjects, finally regaining some of his usual bravado. Neither of you acknowledge him.

"Useful?!" You exclaim voice rising. "Who healed your wounds? Who splinted your hands? Who has been measuring out your medicine?"

"You refuse to give me enough medicine to get me through the night and expect me to be grateful?"

"I thought it was enough!"

"Because you were too much of a coward to face your church if you didn't have to."

It feels like a slap in the face, the even tone he says it in just rubbing salt in the wound because he seems so damnably calm. The cracks spread, loudly.

"I don't have to put up with this," you say, working hard to keep your voice from cracking. "You understand? I don't have to stay."

"Then don't. There's not much of my life left to destroy, so your work here is done, isn't it?"

The cracks go silent as that thing inside you finally shatters, and everything suddenly feels clear for the first time since hearing of Theo's arrest. You turn and pick up your doctor's bag from its resting place next to the door before turning back to Theo and holding eye contact.

"I will be back in two weeks to take off the splints," you say. "Unless you decide you'd rather take them off yourself than trust an imperfect coward." 

If Theo has any visible reaction, you don't notice it before you turn and go out the door. You make it perhaps five steps down the rickety flight of wooden stairs before you're stopped by a desperate cry.

"Qweck! Wait!" It's Giliys, racing out the door after you, closing the door behind him before hurrying to your side and speaking in hushed tones. "That's not him–it's just the pain talking. You know he doesn't mean that. You know–"

"No, Giliys, I don't," you say, your voice louder than his–you don't have it in you to care if Theo can hear you. "What I know is I've given up everything to help that man, and he still thinks of me as an arrogant coward who ruined his life."

"He doesn't think that! He's just–he's scared. He knows we're almost out of meds, and he knows what that means, and he's fucking terrified."

"And I can't help him. I tried, but I don't have a way of getting him more medicine."

"I can take care of the meds, but I need your help to take care of him–I know I'm usually the one helping him eat and read and wipe his ass, but you help him by being here. I swear–he hates me, Qweck. You're what makes the situation bearable for him."

You stare at him incredulously, your mind replaying the scene from last night: Theo desperately clinging to Giliys for comfort while the pain steals his ability to function. "Giliys. A blind man could see that he doesn't hate you. He's just too broken to love well."

It's a cruel thing to say, but you're too exhausted for compassion. Giliys's face shifts from pleading to angry. "You take that back. He's strong, he'll heal, it's just going to take time, and he needs us."

"Then maybe he should treat us better." You take a deep breath. "Like I said, I'll be back to check on his splints. Maybe the time apart will help."

"And where will you go?" Giliys demands. "And don't say the Sacred Order, you're on a short enough fuse these days that there's no way you didn't fly off fucking the handle when they told you to fuck off."

Damn him. Damn him for knowing you that well. "I don't care. If I need to sleep on the street to get a break from his bullshit, I fucking will." 

Giliys face falls. He closes his eyes and takes a breath before bringing a hand to his forehead. "Okay, okay. Look. If you're that sure…go to the Long Roads Coffeehouse in the Villegre district. Talk to Laria, tell her Giliys sent you. She'll probably expect you to work but…you might find the work more familiar than you'd think."

She's a Bellflower contact, then. Some of the heaviness in your chest lifts at that–the thought of working with the Network again, doing work that matters, feels like a balm to your soul. It will be nice to be useful again. You nod. "Thank you, Giliys."

His hand shifts upward from his forehead to grip his hair. "Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I'll try talking to him." You're certain that he won't–he's too afraid of upsetting Theo–but you appreciate the sentiment. "Maybe this will be a wakeup call."

"Maybe," you say, but you don't know. You normally would expect Theo to own up to his mistakes, but you would also never expect him to be like this in the first place. "Look…whatever flayleaf you find, bring it to me before you give it to him, OK? I'll make sure it's safe and show you the right dosage–and don't give him more than I tell you. If he needs a higher dose, come find me, and I'll tell you what's safe, ok?" You sigh. "I'll…probably be back. Not probably, I will be. I just…I need a break."

Giliys nods, relief plain on his face. "Yeah. Will do. Take care of yourself, OK?"

"You too, Giliys."

You continue down the staircase. You look back up when you reach the street to find Giliys still there. He watches you go until you are out of sight with what you suspect might be longing, and you wonder with some guilt how long until he leaves, too.

[legacyshenanigans]

I'm obsessed with all your content, it's just that everything you write is so canon! (For me) I can't stop thinking about Ominis fighting physically, It make sense, he's blind and if he was touched i imagine he would feel like a cornered animal. Marvolo on the other hand is so interesting, i can't help but think that his behavior so... Dangerous, is a way yo maintain his family's reputation, how many enemies would have seen Ominis' disability as a weakness? How many of them would have wanted to take advantage of it? I think all that comes to nothing with the reputation that Marvolo has forged, as a big sister, i feel he maybe does it unconsciously idk (it's not a specific question, i just like to delve into their personalities) 🖤

Thank you so much, that means alot to hear that you're so on board with my HC's 💚 I'm in love with this little world I've created for myself (and you guys who love it) with these characters 😊

The thing with the Gaunts is that they aren't well liked in general, but they're very respected by most dark wizard communities, however there are groups and organisations that they don't get on with that would definitely of seen Ominis' disability as a weakness, and Marvolo knows this.

This is why Marvolo treated Ominis the way he did, even though its twisted and probably not the right way to go about it. The teasing, the fighting, ect.

All Marvolo ever wanted was for Ominis to be strong, and be ABLE to fight and express that and let his anger take over him, in an aggressive way and FIGHT, because deep down, Ominis IS a true Gaunt when it comes to his anger.

And because of this, Ominis CAN and will fight, because he has this deep-rooted trauma and anger inside of him, and when it does come out he's very strong and wild with it, but Ominis doesn't really like thay side of himself.

Ominis is still extremely sensitive, which is something Marvolo hates and tries to knock out of him, but when all said and done, Ominis is light, and Marvolo is mainly Darkness, and they will never truly agree on certain things.

But Marvolo is, in his own way, EXTREMELY protective over Ominis, purely due to blood ties, but doesn't show it often or shows it in awkward and not very understanding ways. Their relationship is very complex.

Marvolo IS bad, he's does awful things, and he gets confused in his feelings when it comes to certain people, and shows it differently to each person. But he's not stupid, he's smart, and cunning, and also very protective of himself, because he knows how bad he can get when he loses it..

Ominis does not like feeling anger, yet its something that takes over him often, when he has arguments and what not..He HATES it, but its like he can't help himself at times, and he doesn't like people to see him like that, because, like Marvolo, Ominis also knows how wild and down right BAD he can get if he let's it take over completely.