#lambda graces

[artyartpile]

the lambda brain cell reactivated and wouldn't go away until i drew him again lmao

[bladealvis]

[polychromatiica]

kinda rushed and also a little bit of a wip, au concept, very half baked, cuz tryna figure out how ray would fit into it is my hugest issue but lil outfit/role swap of emma and norman, mostly just wanted to draw tpn fanart again as its been a lil bit since i have

[kresnikcest]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH 😭

Commissioned u66gy again for Asbel and smol!Lambda and 🥺 them…

[fullscoreshenanigans]

How do you imagine the evolution of the relation between Isabella and Ray in the humans world if she wasn't killed by the demon (but just severely hurt)?

I don't have a firm outline for them beyond a certain point since there's a number of other factors that could influence their interactions, but I'm open to a variety of outcomes from authors as long as Ray's allowed to ride out the turbulent storm of emotions he has over this rather than glancing over them for some schmaltzy sitcom scenario where he forgives her at the drop of a hat and is acting chummy with her (outside of short-form lighthearted comics).

Here's what I imagine happening in the immediate aftermath of them traveling to the human world (borrowing a bit from this ask of yours for this)

Even with a No Reward AU and not having to handle Emma's disappearance on top of everything else, I imagine he would initially be pretty numb to interacting with her for himself.

Above all else, he would be there to reassure his younger siblings that she'd be all right. She survived the attack from the head of the Grace Field farms, but it would take her a long time to recover and they would have to let her rest when she needed it.

But seeing the children she was willing to die for and being part of their family again would be healing for nearly everyone. He wouldn't want to rob her of the opportunity to reconcile with his siblings and walk further along the path of redemption because he wouldn't be there right now if his family hadn't given him the chance to do the same. Likewise, he wouldn't want to deny his siblings the opportunity to know their mother in a world that's kinder to all of them.

So he'd be supportive of them visiting her one on one or in small groups, even when they'd ask him if they were sure he was okay with it. They knew he was her spy for years and had a unique relationship with her, that he was familiar with an Isabella they had comparatively known only briefly. It might hurt seeing them interacting with her casually like nothing had happened.

For Emma and Norman, they might have an inkling of there being another layer to their relationship, but they wouldn't push him until he was ready to tell them himself.

[From this ask:] I'm also someone who likes to overthink about this panel from chapter 174 and Norman's incorporation in it. It could easily be due to knowing Ray had a unique relationship with Isabella by virtue of being her spy for years…but why not throw more angst in with him being aware of the extra layer of gravity between the two as another reason for his knowing and somber expression here? (You could also extend this to Emma, but I focus on Norman just because we can see he's looking back at Ray whereas Emma's still looking in the general direction of Isabella). He had over a year in Lambda to reflect on his time at Grace Field and pore over all the oddities he noticed between Isabella and Ray but chalked up to other things at the time…and isn't that so incredibly like Ray to keep that kind of conflict and pain to himself, either to spare others or because he loathes pity. There's a sad fondness tinging the thought.

But he reaffirms that it's fine, brushes the sentiments off and states his relationship with her shouldn't dictate theirs.

Jessica, Matilda, Scarlet, and Sienna wouldn't push him on this either. If for some reason they were in possession of his note, they'd return it to him to let him know they were aware of its contents, but if not, they'd still let him know that they knew about their relationship and that Isabella kept his note all that time. A balance of wanting to advocate for her after everything she had done post-escape by presenting him with facts that he could interpret for himself while knowing it wouldn't magically mend everything (in the same way they couldn't seamlessly integrate into the lives of their biological children with a snap of their fingers).

This is how Ray ends up visiting Isabella at least once by himself while she's in a coma, watching her breathe with the help of machines. Up until the day of their reunion, he didn't hesitate to call her a monster after nearly two years of thinking she was dead because of the note he wrote as bait to get her in trouble with headquarters, a wry smile playing on his lips at the thought of her being considered a "good parent."

(Chapter 169 Bonus Comic)

But now there she was, willing to die for them, to keep them safe. She lead the covert uprising against Peter Ratri among the sisters for over a year. That amounted to something.

(Chapter 174)

Yet despite what he said about holding no grudges in the immediate aftermath of Peter's suicide, he can't just let go of years of hypervigilance, of being constantly on edge to not show a hint of vulnerability lest it foil his meticulous, multiyear plan, and knowing what he represented to her after he shattered the blissful delusion she'd fallen into at Grace Field for five years. That fear and feeling of being small in her presence was etched into his memory, carved into his bones.

Now that he finally has a say in how their relationship should progress instead of being at her mercy, can rage at her until he's out of breath and be just as petty as she'd been, make her work and beg for his forgiveness to try to amend every cruelty she inflicted upon him, there's just…an emptiness he keeps coming back to. No matter what they did, he would never have an untainted childhood with her, and now that she's back in his life he's left to grieve that again.

I imagine he'd circle through that numbness, grief, anger, frustration, and envy (as stupid and pathetic as that last one in particular makes him feel, seeing his siblings being able to interact with her so easily, her carrying no extra baggage with them, the kind of relationship he was ashamed he ached for when he was at Grace Field) for some time as Isabella recovers and integrates back into their family, and if their biological connection hasn't been revealed already through some external force this is probably where he reaches out to someone (defaulting to Emma, Norman, Don, and/or Gilda) to talk about it, though whomever he speaks with they make it clear he's not obligated to forgive or interact with her.

For Isabella's part, she accepts whatever his feelings may be after having two years to reflect on how she treated him.

(Chapter 177)

"I couldn't dote on you." Not because I was forbidden from favoring you beyond somehow sparing you from eventually being shipped out—as long as I produced the desired results, I could do as I wished—but because I couldn't separate the violence you were born out of from you as a person.

Her not making excuses for that could go a long way.

Eventually they do start speaking to each other regarding topics that are easier to broach, like the other children, gardening, cooking (I don't know if she started cooking once she became Grandma or if it would something entirely new to her in the human world since the farm system purposely stratified labor as another measure to prevent the sisters from revolting), before tackling their deeper rooted issues or discussing matters like the origins of the lullaby.

[artrantia]

There were a couple of delays, but these Graces charms are finally available!

Link to Etsy

[windor-truffle]

and it works every time

[gailardiagalan]

back on my bs heres graces

[ithydoodles]

I'm playing Tales of Graces f remastered and wanted to do a quick sketch of Lambda 🥰

[kohakhearts]

Asbel, Richard, and Lambda is along for the ride, and #50

#50: “why does anyone have to be naked?” wc: 1 631 read on ao3 here

The whole thing is starting to get sort of…strange.

Probably thanks to Asbel’s influence, Lambda’s disdain for humans has in some areas melted into a genuine, at times even rather endearing curiosity about them. It’s a bit cute, even, when the timing isn’t completely awful. Sometimes, Asbel even lets the others hold his hand and explain something that, to the rest of them, is incredibly simple—why Cheria enjoys the sound of the piano, how Lady Kerri has been teaching Sophie to tend to the flowerbeds, the compulsion Hubert has to collect figures and models that serve no real purpose beyond looking nice on a secret shelf in his bedroom—so that Lambda can interrogate them properly. This is all well and good, but when it comes to Richard, Lambda’s questions are a little bit different.

He takes some comfort in the knowledge that Asbel is as flustered by Lambda’s interjections as he is—or maybe even a little more, if only because so much of it seems to be coming directly from his own head. It’s not as if Lambda is a stranger to Richard’s feelings for Asbel, either; but they had both been rather more focussed on other things at the time, and any notions of a romantic reunion had been buried deep down long before Asbel found him in the catacombs again.

Their relationship already feels complicated enough without adding Lambda’s probing questions to the equation, but even if he has ever considered the same, Richard knows Asbel would not have entertained the thought for any longer than the time taken to disregard it completely. The last thing Asbel wants to do is exclude Lambda, even—or perhaps especially?—when it comes to matters of intimacy. Richard can understand, a bit; these are, after all, some of the biggest joys of being human. The brush of hands, of lips, skin on skin—he certainly cannot blame Lambda for wanting to understand it.

Unfortunately, it also meant that their first kiss was cut short by Lambda’s voice ringing through Richard’s head, demanding to know, “What exactly is the benefit to this action?”

So the kiss had stopped, while Richard tried to come up with a justification for kissing that satisfied Lambda, who stubbornly would not accept anything amongst “It feels nice” or “It allows you to let your guard down around someone you love” or “It stimulates physical arousal, which is a necessary biological function.”

Finally, Asbel suggested, “It brings you closer to the other person,” which for reasons far beyond Richard was enough to satiate their friend’s curiosity. Even though Richard is still fairly certain it was no better an explanation than any he had given.

That’s pretty much par for the course, though. Lambda is often calling Asbel a weak, soft-hearted fool, amongst other similarly barbed epithets, but Richard isn’t so blind to the adoration with which Lambda considers his host. Sometimes, even, he wonders if he is in part responsible for it: as if he has loved Asbel so deeply, for so long, that when Lambda left his mindscape for good he carried a fraction of the emotion away with him.

That was, in any case, one of the more mild iterations of this scene, which has played out more times than Richard could even hope to keep track of between both his hands and his feet. Some of the queries are very innocent: “ What exactly qualifies something as ‘cute’? ” or “Why is it that Asbel belives he must wipe the whipped cream from your lip, Richard? Are you incapable of such a simple action? ” Others, however…a little less so, though when they’ve been about Asbel, Richard can’t deny they’ve had their own enjoyability.

There was that time, for example, when Asbel reached out for his hand and said, very lightly, apparently having no idea as to the nature of the question, “Lambda would like to ask you something, Richard.” And then that all-too familiar voice was in his head: “What exactly is the purpose of Asbel’s preoccupation with touching your hair? Would pulling on it not harm you? It seems unlike him to wish you pain.”

Asbel heard it, too. And pulled his hand away as if he had been burned, although Richard was mostly amused by it all. He had taken some time to think of an answer before winking at Asbel and answering, “I don’t believe his intentions are to harm me, Lambda. As it turns out, pain and pleasure run on a parallel spectrum for us humans. I believe, in a roundabout way, what Asbel really wants is to make me feel good.”

He thought Asbel might melt into the floor, then. It was painstakingly cute.

There had also been that time when they had been kissing on Asbel’s bed and Lambda had spoken up to wonder, “Why does Asbel keep thinking he wants you on top of him? Would he not suffocate?”

They haven’t expressly given Lambda “the Talk,” if only because his questions about intimacy come at such inopportune times. In this case, for example, Asbel had pulled away from Richard and thrown his face against the pillow instead in a show of adorable despair. This may be another reason why Asbel has yet to broach the subject with him: he himself is still too embarrassed by the very idea of sex that any time he has grown hard under Richard’s ministrations, he has put a stop to them and excused himself to deal with the problem on his own.

Richard doesn’t mind waiting, of course. And now, months since that first awkward kiss later, they are finally here, which Richard’s hands under the hems of Asbel’s shirt. He doesn’t speak his question, though he pauses long enough for Asbel to break their kiss and answer, which he does with a minute, breathless nod of the head.

His shirt is pulled up over his head and delicately thrown to the floor with their jackets, shoes, and Richard’s gloves. Reverently, Richard runs his hands over Asbel’s bare torso, eliciting a shiver.

“I won’t put you through the pains of undoing my clothing,” Richard murmurs at last, pulling back in order to deal with it himself. Asbel watches his deft fingers with a sort of burning desire, which only makes Richard ache all the more to continue touching him. But when finally the garment has been graciously discarded and his hands snake up around Asbel’s neck again to draw him closer, Lambda speaks up, breaking them out of their lustful stupors in record time:

“I was beginning to understand all this kissing nonsense, but this brings another question to mind…”

Asbel stifles a snort while Richard stares down at him, aghast. “Lambda, your timing never fails to impress.”

Ignoring him, Lambda asks, “ Why does anyone have to be naked?”

Now, it is Richard trying hard not to laugh. Asbel ducks his head, shame colouring his face all over again.

“Well,” Richard says, “it is rather hard to have intercourse with one’s clothes on. Not impossible,” he adds. “But I don’t particularly fancy dealing with any stains on my clothing, myself.”

“Stains?”

“Asbel,” Richard says, chiding, “don’t tell me you have still yet to explain to our friend about the birds and the bees?”

“Not…exactly,” Asbel mumbles to his bedsheets.

“Well, that won’t do.”

“What, pray tell, are these birds and bees? It seems unwise to approach monsters unclothed.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Richard explains. “Although, I must admit, I am uncertain where the idiom comes from myself. In essence, though, it is a euphemistic way people talk about sexual intercourse. And before you wonder what benefit sex has beyond procreation, which of course Asbel and myself would have a hard time with given our incompatible anatomy, I will suggest that the purpose is it feels good. Wouldn’t you agree, Asbel?”

Asbel glances up at him, cheeks burning all the way up to his ears. “I…I guess. Sure.”

“Lambda’s never going to believe in your conviction if you say it like that.”

Asbel winces. “Um, right. Yeah, of course. It feels great. Probably.”

“Is that supposed to be more convincing?”

“I don’t know!”

“Perhaps,” Richard interjects smoothly, “Lambda could better learn through a demonstration?”

As the intention registers, Asbel’s eyes widen. He opens his mouth and then slams it shut again and shakes his head. “I— You want him to take control of my body?”

“Heavens, no. Then you wouldn’t learn anything, either.” Gently, Richard sweeps his hand back to Asbel’s front and cups his chin. He leans close again, so that he can feel his own breaths against Asbel’s parted lips. “He can watch, though, can’t he?”

At once, a different emotion overtakes Asbel’s gaze. He slackens in Richard’s hold. “Well…if he wants to. What do you think, Lambda? You can stop us any time, if you feel uncomfortable.”

“Why would I feel uncomfortable?”

“Because Asbel will be making all sorts of indecent noises,” Richard supplies cheerfully. “Though something tells me you’ve heard those before, too.”

“Richard!” Asbel hisses, but Lambda tellingly doesn’t deny it.

“Then I fail to see how this will be a new experience in understanding you humans.”

“Well, I suppose you’ll see from his perspective why I needed to be naked as well.” Richard closes the gap between himself and Asbel with the swift, chaste kiss against his lips. When he pulls back, he adds, “Please save your questions for after, though. We may be a touch too occupied to answer coherently.”

Silence, for a beat. And then Lambda says, a bit sullenly, “Fine. I accept. Show me this intercourse, if you please.”

Richard grins, and pushes Asbel down until his back hits the bed. “Gladly,” he says, before descending ravenously upon them both.

[emmaspolaroid]

perhaps my most niche TPN opinion is that the cattle children should have distinct and slightly twangy accents depending on the farm they grew up on

[artyartpile]

Blossomgale

[artpharos]

How about 5 and Lambda and Sophie? For the good angsts :3

5. “There’s blood on my/your hands.” So uh it got to about 4.6k words and I haven't posted fanfics on tumblr in a reallyy long time so I hope nothing screwed up!! But also I've uploaded it to ao3 here as well so that hopefully only my italics are screwed up--

By all accounts, there was no reason for Lambda to refuse. 

“No.” 

Sophie paused in surprise, glancing over to her side.  

The refusal was clipped, weighty with a gravitas that was out of place on Asbel’s face. It was spoken with tightly restrained vehemence, in a voice that was far sharper than Asbel’s own. But more than that, what caught Sophie’s attention was the bright flare in her father’s left eye. In the darkened lab, Asbel’s lavender eye glowed with a rage and pain that she hadn’t seen in years; had almost forgotten.

Her grip tightened on the table. Around her, the bracing warmth in the eleth that she’d only more recently started to associate with Lambda fluttered with agitation. The tense undercurrent was more familiar to her than she wanted to admit, tying a knot in her chest.

“Wh-whyever not?” Across the lab table, Pascal exchanged a confused look with her. Spread out between them, the humanoid hull the researcher had been showing off lay still and silent, empty without a conscience or a soul. Asleep, waiting for a spark of life to coax it into action. 

“I will not.”

“Lambda, give it some thought–” This time, Asbel spoke with his own mouth, before wincing. He pressed a palm against his left temple as his lips moved again, another voice echoing sharply through his words.  

“I said no. I will not enter that lifeless husk. Have we not agreed that we would share this body?” 

“Yes, but–”

“No.”

Sophie felt Lambda’s departure rather than heard it. The eleth, which had swirling in the air in tandem with Lambda’s words, stilled. His presence evaporated; fell dull and silent to her senses like a winter chill. Sophie exhaled softly– Lambda was always stubborn and dramatic, but it had been a while since he’d reacted this vehemently to anything. 

With Lambda gone, Asbel slumped forward, bracing himself against the table. He uttered a soft curse under his breath. 

“Asbel?” She walked around to her father’s side, pressed a hand against his temple. The soft glow of a healing arte lit up the dim room, and soft, mismatched eyes glanced at her in gratitude. The purple in his left eye remained muted; quiet.  

“I’m fine,” Asbel reassured her, flinching as he straightened up. “He’s… just upset.”

Across the table, Pascal snorted. “I’ll say.” 

Sophie winced. That was an understatement. Lambda rarely spoke through Asbel like this– had always been more content to whisper quiet, sometimes-snide comments to anyone whenever they glanced against Asbel with a touch– but clearly, in this instance, he wanted his feelings loudly heard and known. 

“I don’t get it.” Asbel sighed wearily, his gaze lingering on the humanoid hull in front of them. “It’s been years. After all this time, I thought he’d jump at the opportunity to finally have his own body.”

“I know, right?” Pascal huffed. “I made sure to follow the tech specs we found on Fodra, too– just the way he'd like it. None of my additional adjustments, even! Although I’m sure if Lambda really wanted, I could fit in a rocket launcher somewhere–”

Sophie shook her head. “I don’t think that’s the point, Pascal.”

“You think?” Pascal scratched her chin as she swayed in thought. “But come on, like– I get that freeloading off Asbel’s a pretty nifty deal– no offense– but wouldn’t you want to do your own thing eventually?”

“None taken,” Asbel quipped back sardonically. Her father shook his head. “Maybe Lambda’s happy as things are.” 

Sophie frowned. She glanced at the empty body in front of her, at a figure built of soft skin and steel, with a face that was similar to the one she’d glimpsed from the recordings in the Humanoid Research Laboratory. It was why they had come all this way to the Amarcian Enclave, after all. On a whim, a hope, a promise– 

“I think– maybe he’s… scared.”

Both pairs of eyes darted to her, and Sophie froze. The words had slipped from her mouth before her thoughts had caught up, but now that she'd said that out loud… She bit her lip. 

Scared and Lambda weren't words that were ever used in the same sentence, weren’t they? 

Asbel grimaced. “He has a few choice words about that comment,” her father relayed. He paused, before letting out a resigned sigh. “Along with a demand to ‘begone from this infernal place’ as soon as we can. His words,” Asbel interjected before Pascal could protest, “not mine.”

Pascal slouched. “Aww. You guys came all this way and you’re leaving already?”

Her father hesitated. Catching his gaze, Sophie offered a small smile. “It would be rude,” she pointed out.

Asbel chuckled. “It would, wouldn’t it?”

“Totally rude.” Pascal grinned. The researcher finally stowed her toolkit as she walked over. “So yeah, maybe Project Mecha Lambda didn’t turn out all that great, but it is getting pretty late. Why don’t you stay the night? The inn’s got a really tootin’ hot chocolate this time of year. Amarcian Enclave speciality!”

“Don’t they always have hot chocolate, Pascal?” Asbel muttered.

“All the more reason to have a taste, yeah?” Pascal grinned. “Who knows, maybe it'll be so good in your own body that Lambda will change his mind.”

Asbel winced, nodding as he listened to Lambda’s unheard voice. “That’s… doubtful.”

Pascal laughed, swinging the door to her lab open. The cool air from the Enclave brushed through the muggy lab, and Asbel (perhaps for more than one reason) eagerly stepped out from the dim light of the lab. 

Sophie moved to follow, but a thought halted her steps. Glancing over her shoulder, the empty hull lay unmoving back on the lab table, that unfamiliar-yet-not face looking almost peacefully asleep in the dark. 

She swallowed. It didn’t dislodge the weight pressed against her throat. 

“Sophie, you coming? I can’t keep holding the door all day, y’know!”

“Coming,” she answered, shaking free of her inertia. She flashed Pascal a grateful smile as she slipped back into the evening light. “I hope the chocolate’s good.”

“The best!” Pascal laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulders in easy affection as they followed Asbel down the cobbled streets.

It was reassuringly warm. Normal. An actual life that Sophie had slowly grown used to, over the years. But even as she walked alongside her friends, her mind lingered back to that quiet face in the lab. And her gaze remained fixed onto Asbel's back. ------

“Can I talk to Lambda?”

Asbel glanced up at her in surprise. It had been a good two hours after dinner, and her father had been working at the little desk in their inn room, the pile of never-ending paperwork that he’d brought with him haphazardly stacked in front of him. Illuminated by the eleth torch beside the inkwell, there wasn’t a hint of sharpness or anger on Asbel’s gentle features; just the man she’d always known, reassuring as always. 

“What’s this about, Sophie?” Asbel asked, putting down his quill. 

Sophie shrugged. It was an odd request, to be sure. Ever since their return from Fodra’s core years ago, the conversations she’d had with Lambda had been infrequent, little things. Still, slowly, quietly– their earlier antagonism and ambivalence had faded into something… different. It wasn’t usually enough for Sophie to ask to speak to the creature, but his outburst at the lab remained in the back of her mind. The sight of his distress continued to flash behind her eyes. 

Her father sat back in his chair with a sigh. “Lambda’s said nothing since we left Pascal’s lab, and I’ve tried.” Ruefully, Asbel flashed her a smile. “I’m not even sure he wants to talk.”

“Aren’t you curious?” Sophie frowned. If nothing else, Asbel was always the first to fret over the creature who shared his body; the one who usually understood how Lambda’s mind worked. He’d been the person who had been most eager about their whole trip– about the chance for Lambda to get his own body, his own life. 

“Of course.” Asbel sighed. “But he’s been awfully silent. He’s fine, but I can’t pick up anything else from him at all.”

“Is he pouting?”

Her father laughed, scratching his chin. “I wouldn’t say that to his face but– oh, hold on.”

Sophie waited patiently as Asbel frowned, dipping his chin into his hand as he listened to unspoken words. Then, the eleth around them shifted with Lambda’s presence– a slight warmth that breathed of wind-swept plains, no longer leadened with dread and pain; a sigh that reminded Sophie of a sunset over the flower fields back in Lhant.

“I do not pout, Protos Heis.”

Unbidden, she smiled as Lambda turned to face her. Even though it was Asbel’s face, Asbel’s body… Lambda always comported himself differently to her father– his chin lifted slightly more imperiously, limbs held a bit more tight. His expression was calm, distant– a far cry from the anger she had glimpsed earlier in the day. And though Sophie could count the times she’d seen him in control of Asbel’s body on one hand, meeting Lambda through her father’s eyes was like catching sight of an old friend. 

“Good,” she admitted. “I was worried.”

Dual lavender eyes softened. “Your concern is unwarranted. I am fine.” Lambda exhaled, his posture relaxing as he slackened against the chair. “Though I do not appreciate eating curry for five days in this week alone. Asbel’s lack of adventure when it comes to food has been… exasperating.” 

“I know.” Sophie sighed wistfully. “We haven’t had crablettes in a while.”

He shot her a look. “That is scarcely an improvement.” 

“Crablettes are always an improvement.”

Lambda snorted and glanced to the side, something slight tugging at his lips. Sophie couldn't help but giggle. Here, like this, with Lambda relaxed in front of her, talking with her… it eased the tension in her chest. They’d talked sporadically, but being like this felt natural, like after everything they had been through, this was how they were always meant to be. Who they could be. A wish, a dream that hadn’t yet taken form. 

But that was neither here nor there. 

“But that was not what you wished to discuss.”

Sophie shook her head. Sitting on the corner of the nearby bed, she folded her hands in her lap. “About earlier…” She frowned. “Lambda, are you sure you don't want a new body?”

“I have already made my refusal clear.” Lambda rested Asbel’s chin on his hand, lips thinning into a line. “I thought you, of all people, would understand.”

“Understand?” 

“There’s blood on my hands, Protos Heis,” Lambda said softly. “You know that.”

Sophie froze. Of course she knew. Despite everything, the scars that Lambda had torn into both Fodra and Ephinea were still evident in her daily life– and the grief and rage from the people hurt by his actions had yet to completely subside. She could still see the him she knew from her deepest nightmares– a creature of spindly, monstrous limbs and a faceless mask. She would always remember her fear and horror when she had watched him hurt her friends; the family she now loved. 

At her silence, Lambda deflated, shoulders sagging. The eleth around him flickered with a muted sadness; a soft regret that was as stiflingly heavy as a blanket of freshly fallen snow.  

And despite what Sophie knew, the lump in her throat felt more suffocating than ever. 

“Why does that matter now?” 

Her words fell quietly into the empty space between them. Outside, the stillness of the Amarcian Enclave did little to break the morose solitude that cloaked Lambda’s shoulders. In the night, her companion looked so much colder, the illumination from the eleth lamps doing little to warm the pallor of his face as he leaned away from the light. 

Lambda kept his attention focused out the window next to him. “Surely, you would not endorse my release back into the world,” he said tersely. “Surely, you would not accept my separation from Asbel Lhant.”

His words sank like a stone. In the silence, Lambda looked sharp and cold, even while wearing Asbel’s face. To anyone else, he would have seemed foreboding and menacing. And yet, that stony visage was betrayed by the despair in the eleth that swirled around them, evident only to her, glancing against her skin.

Sophie couldn’t bear it. 

Wordlessly, she stood up and walked over. Resting one hand on Asbel’s clenched fist, Sophie waited until lavender eyes reluctantly turned back on her. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked gently.

Lambda huffed. “Perhaps everyone else has forgotten what I am capable of, but you would not underestimate how Asbel keeps me in check.”

“Is that what this is about?” Sophie breathed. 

The eleth flared around them. Lambda’s lips pressed thin.

Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “You are scared.”

A dismissive snort. “Take care, Protos Heis. You may find yourself a jester yet.”

“I'm serious,” she said, grasping his hand tightly. “Lambda, you're afraid of leaving Asbel, aren't you?”

“I… have reservations about what I might do.”

Lambda’s words were soft, barely audible to her ears as they faded off in the quiet night. His gaze was distant, turned to stare out into the inky dark. And where their hands were joined… there was no longer that sharp, stinging pain of rejection. Of hate. 

Just a sorrowful warmth that Sophie had only started to recognize. 

Her companion sighed as he spoke again. 

“It was not so long ago that all I ever knew, all I ever felt, was rage and hate. And all I wanted was not to. That path led me down a road of destruction; of myself, and of everyone around me.”

Sophie’s throat tightened. She had felt Lambda’s pain, back in Ephinea’s core. But now, the clear despondency in his eyes stilled her words, and the guilt in his voice ate at her heart. 

“Asbel changed all that. While I am with him, I feel peace; joy. I finally feel… whole.” Lambda closed his eyes. “If I leave him, if I have all that freedom on my hands… Who's to say I wouldn't fall prey to my baser instincts once more?”

When Lambda looked at her again, a vulnerable softness rounded out lavender eyes. Though he had lived longer than she had, Sophie was reminded all the more how young he actually was, too.  

“I do not wish to cross blades with you again, Protos Heis.”

His voice was a whisper, a shudder through the eleth. Filled with a plea that squeezed at her heart. 

And when she looked at Lambda now– 

Sophie shook her head. Crouching down, she grasped Asbel’s still hand with both of hers. “You won’t.”

“You cannot guarantee that with any certainty.”

She frowned. “I can.”

“Of me?” Disbelief coloured Lambda’s voice as he studied her. His gaze narrowed. “Truly, your father’s foolishness must have rubbed off on you. More than his own, even, considering you must have forgotten everything I’ve done to you.”

Sophie held his stare. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she whispered gently, “I haven’t forgotten. And you haven’t, either.”

His eyes dipped. Soft regret crossed his face. A welling of sympathy, of longing, pulsed through her, and more than anything, Sophie wanted to wipe that sadness away from Lambda’s eyes, away from Lambda’s heart.

“You’re not a bad person, Lambda.” She leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Asbel’s broad shoulders. “You saved everyone, back on Fodra. You’ve looked after Asbel for all these years. And you’re… you’re my friend, even now.”

The body under her arms stiffened– but when she didn’t pull away, slowly, Lambda began to relax. A deep sigh fluttered by her ear. In her embrace, the creature of her nightmares leaned against her, suddenly more fragile than she could ever imagine. “Sophie…”

The sound of her name warmed her heart. Sophie smiled, pulling away slightly to brush the bangs out of lavender eyes. 

“Yes, you did bad things. But you feel sorry for them, and you’ve worked hard to make up for them.” She reached out and picked up one of Asbel’s hands, pressed cold fingers over her heart. Her smile widened in the face of Lambda’s wide-eyed stare. “You’ve been kind to me; to the sopherias. You’ve been trying to help everyone else– with Asbel, and with Lhant. You’ve changed, and grown, and you’ve already done so much for our world. Imagine how much more you could do with your own body, your own life. You can be free to be who you want to be.”

Lambda hesitated. “Can I truly?”

“Look at me,” Sophie whispered. “Look at us. Look at how far we’ve come.”

Lambda’s gaze dipped to his hand over her heart, before resting on her face once more. He frowned. “I do not deserve all the credit.”

“No, but it takes two hands to clap.” Sophie pushed on. “That’s what the Captain says.”

Lambda paused. “‘It doesn’t matter who reaches out first, as long as the other accepts.’”

Familiar words. But this time… this time, it was Lambda who said them hesitantly, trustingly. To her. 

“Exactly!” Sophie nodded, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ll always be your friend, Lambda. You don’t have to be scared. I’ll always be here, to remind you of who you really are.”

Incredulity melted into something soft in Lambda’s lavender gaze. 

“You truly are… remarkable, Protos Heis.”

Maybe it was the way Lambda was watching her– soft and proud. Maybe it was the gentle eleth that floated around them, filling the room with a comforting kindness. But Sophie’s cheeks warmed as she ducked her head. “You’re remarkable too, Lambda. That's why I… I want you to live, too.” 

Lambda huffed, finally tugging his hand away. The eleth around them ebbed gently in the cryas’ light, content and at peace. His features were as tight and imperious as always, but he didn’t seem as uncomfortable as before, as shaken and unnerved. 

“I will accept the Amarcian’s proposal.” 

Sophie couldn’t quite believe her ears. In front of her, Lambda played with Asbel’s quill. 

“You will?”

“Your reasoning is sound.” Lambda arched an eyebrow. “Besides, you have already taken up the responsibility to watch over my actions, have you not?”

Those words echoed with a promise; one that had given her strength when she struggled with her place in the world, a lifetime ago. The warmth in his eyes swirled in the eleth around them, wrapping comfortably around her heart. Lambda’s expression was as still as ever, but in his presence, Sophie only found that calm understanding that had always encouraged her; that friendship which had prompted her to reach out to him now.

Sophie laughed. “Yes!”

“Then it is settled.” 

Lambda smiled. A soft, precious thing. It lit his lavender eyes with a soothing light, a secret entrusted to her in the quiet of the night.

With a final nod, he pulled away and closed his eyes. His presence faded, the eleth around her falling quiet once more. And when he blinked, mismatched blue and purple met her gaze instead of Lambda through her father’s eyes. 

“Wow.” Asbel breathed. “You got through to him.”

Sophie shrugged with a small smile. “He was scared,” she explained. “I’m sure he would have talked to you, eventually.”

“Maybe.” Asbel sighed, leaning back against the chair. He grimaced. “He’s saying he would have only talked to you, though, because at least you don’t force him to eat curry all day.”

“Well,” Sophie said, clasping her hands together, “he won’t need to eat curry every day any longer if he doesn’t want to. He’ll get to make his own choices. Live his own life. Find out his own favorite things, and protect them with everything he has.”

Asbel watched her. A gentle smile slowly crept its way onto his face. “Yeah. He will.” Her father reached over, ruffling her hair. “You’re incredible, Sophie. Thank you. From me and Lambda, both.”

Sophie beamed. Around her, the eleth swirled faintly with Lambda’s joy.  ------

They reconvened the next day in Pascal’s lab. More accurately, rather– they reconvened when Pascal finally woke up– which meant it was half-past noon, and Asbel and Sophie had to carry Pascal out of her bed while the researcher begged for ‘five more minutes’. 

Luckily, the whole procedure was rather simple. 

“All Lambda has to do is to just zippy zap into the frame!” Pascal gave them a thumb’s up as she cabled the last few wires on the console. “Everything else should be easy-peasy. A little bit of juice, maybe a zap or two or a whammo, and he’ll be good to go!”

“I’m starting to feel uneasy about all this,” Asbel muttered, scratching his cheek.

Sophie smiled at him. Sure, there were a few more big machines than she’d expected connected to the humanoid body, but it was normal for Pascal. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said, resting a hand on her father’s shoulder.

The gentlest tickle of eleth glanced against her fingers, and Asbel caught her gaze, no doubt listening to Lambda’s words. “He says he has faith in Pascal,” he relayed to her with a rueful smile. “I’d never imagined I’d live to hear him say that word.”

Sophie giggled. “Lambda has a lot of faith in every one of us.”

Asbel’s worried frown softened into a soft smile. “That’s true enough.” He nodded to Lambda’s unsaid words, before finally turning to Pascal. “Well,” he said, “Lambda’s ready, so I guess we should get started.”

Sophie nodded, and Pascal grinned. 

With a deep exhale, Asbel closed his eyes. The eleth around them thrummed in the air, rousing to Lambda’s waking presence. The lights around them flickered– once, twice– then, with a pulse through the eleth, a bloom of light converged in front of Asbel, swirling hues of gold and purple lighting the dim lab.

This close, this pure, Lambda felt so much more intense, so much more warm and bright, a star given form. Sophie had to grip onto the table to stay upright, to withstand the eleth winds buffeting her. But through the turbulence, there was a supportive weight around her shoulder, a bracing breath of air in her lungs. It was Lambda; a far cry from who he had once been.

Sophie gasped. A gentle touch warmed against her cheek, and she had the fleeting impression of Lambda’s quiet smile. 

The bloom of light hovered in the air, in the eleth, lingering at the foot of the table, studying the hull before him. There was a moment of hesitation– until Sophie felt Lambda’s attention on her, and the gentlest squeeze on her shoulder. Then, he dove straight into the humanoid body, and the lab was bathed in a bright, blinding light.

When it faded, the sudden darkness was disconcerting. The machines in the lab, which had been humming and thrumming in the background, sputtered and fell silent. It took a while for Sophie’s eyes to adjust to the lack of light. But she heard Pascal's coughing end in a whoop of joy, followed by Asbel's sigh of relief.

She blinked, searching– and then her attention caught on the table. Dimly lit by faint light, a boy was seated on its surface. Instead of a sleeping humanoid, he looked different from the empty body before– slightly taller than she had thought, more flesh covering his arms than steel. He slowly scanned the room, before meeting her gaze with calm, red eyes, watching her under teal bangs.

Lambda lifted his chin, spoke in a soft, but clear voice. “Hello.”

Sophie gasped. A million things ran through her mind– a million things she had practiced to say– but then her body moved, and before she could even think, she’d flung her arms around the friend she’d thought she’d never be able to touch. 

Lambda froze stiff under her touch. But the longer she held him… the more his body relaxed; the more natural he felt, easing into her arms. 

“Protos Heis–” He sighed in her ear. “You’re– this is– This is… unnecessary.”

Asbel chuckled from somewhere behind her. “What have we said about manners, Sophie?”

“Right, of course.” Sophie couldn’t help but laugh, pulling away to wipe a stray tear from her eye. Pascal was grinning at them from behind the console as the lab flickered back to life, and Asbel’s warm hand clapped her back as he came to stand by her side. 

Lambda’s face was as expressionless as ever, but in his own body, there was a slight flush on his cheeks, the slightest duck of his head. Yet, he didn’t move away. 

Sophie drew in a deep, calming breath, before holding a hand out towards her once-enemy, now-friend. “It's so good to finally meet you, Lambda,” she said with a smile.

“Foolish,” Lambda muttered. But he lifted his hand slowly and placed it in hers, fragile fingers threading through her own as she clasped him tight.

Sophie grinned as she helped him off the table. The boy in her arms trembled as he stood on his own feet, leaning his weight against her as he got his bearings. He was lighter than she imagined, taller than she had initially thought. And so much more frail and vulnerable than she’d ever attributed to him before. 

Lambda stayed quiet as Pascal ran a few checks with a machine scanning over his body, but his fingers remained latched on her hand, and the eleth around them swirled soothingly as Sophie gently rubbed his back.

“Aaaand we're all done!” Pascal said at last, closing her scanner with a grin. “Welcome to freedom, Lambda! If anything feels wonky, just hit me up and we'll get it fixed in a jiffy! For everything else– world's your oyster! Just… try not to destroy it again.”

“Pascal.” Asbel shot her a warning look, but Lambda merely snorted.

“I appreciate the sentiment.” Lambda spoke in that same distant, imperious tone that Sophie knew all too well. But now, it no longer hid the soft warmth in his eyes. He gave Pascal a short nod before he glanced over to Asbel. “However, I would prefer more time to get my bearings in this world before I seek out the rest of it. At least, for the present.”

Asbel’s eyes softened. “You'll always have a home in Lhant. Sophie and I will make sure of that.”

Lambda nodded. “I will hold you to your word, Asbel Lhant. You as well, Protos Heis.” Despite his words, his voice was softer, quieter, a faint pink coloring his now-physical cheeks. 

Sophie’s heart swelled. Unbidden, the images of Lambda in her life fluttered through her mind’s eye– in Lhant, in the flower fields. Out travelling to Strahta and Fendel, and maybe all the way to distant Fodra. And he’d be by her side. However long their lives would span, however long they’d be friends. 

As if sensing her thoughts, Lambda glanced over to her. And on his face, there was the gentlest, tiniest smile.  

“So what do you wanna do, Lambda? Since you’ve gotten a new body and all.” Pascal was bouncing on the soles of her feet with a familiar eagerness that Sophie understood when Lambda cringed in her arms. “Wanna go for a test drive? Run down the mountain, play a bit of shot cube-”

“It’s already lunch time,” Asbel interrupted. “We could go for curry.”

“And crablettes,” Sophie added. 

“And banana pie!” 

Lambda said nothing, but this close, Sophie could see the faintest smirk pulling at his lips. His gaze was colored with fondness, with understanding– everything he finally could be. She gave his hand a squeeze, smiling when he turned to look at her.

“Maybe we should ask Lambda what he would like to eat,” she spoke up.

His eyes widened, before he let out a little, exasperated huff, squeezing Sophie’s hand in return. 

“I would like to try the hot chocolate,” he stated, clear and concise.

And Sophie laughed as Lambda looked at her, alive. 

[questiontocertaintyofreality]

Norman's Reason of Murder, Analysis

(Inclued Ray and Emma too but mainly Norman)

Norman decides he must kill the demons because it's the only way his family can survive when there's truly no Neverland to escape to. Those who insult hard on Norman for murder overlook this: Norman was dying, and before he died, he wanted to leave a world to live in for the people he valued most in life and for whom he had worked for years. He thought he had no other choice, he would bear the price of this murder, he should bear this burden. All of these come from the responsibility and sense of justice he has felt since childhood. Just like Ray decides he can take the burden of killing people when Minerva's first shelter is found. "I am ready to carry this burden."

Because Ray has been carrying the burden of the truth for years. Emma was also ready to take on the burden of every child she encountered and the responsibility of her life. Even if Emma's failure meant the children would die, Emma did not consider failing. The burden Norman is trying to carry is the same as Emma and Ray, but unlike the two of them, Norman sees himself as deformed after Lambda. He thinks that no matter what he does, they will not accept him as his old, true self, but Ray was thinking almost the same. (Did i mention i love norray). Ray believed that he had no place with his family and that he had to die at the end of the 6-year plan because Ray think their family doesn't show him understood because Ray watched their siblings die for years and they might thought Ray's humanity was destroyed. But there wasn't a rule for humanity in that world. Ray had Emma by his side to shake him, but Norman didn't have Emma at first. I want to hug Emma, she needs to shake me too. Emma, on the other hand, could push herself up, her psychological endurance at a level I could never have imagined.

Back at Norman, he was deathly afraid of ever hoping again, believing that his plans and dreams were destroyed forever so he afraid to trust Emma and Ray about Mujika, afraid to believe there was another world. He think, he dissapointed hard after this and all of his family die. Norman wasn't bad, Isabella wasn't bad, they never were. Because when all the information you have about the outside world is likely to be fake, when you have spent years surrounded by lies and the truth is hitting you like a slap in the face, you cannot learn to do something that society deems evil because you aren't learn "act evil for gain" If one sheep bites another while running through the meadows, will we call it bad? It's not the same as a murder in the world we live.

In this panel Norman says : I hope in your next life, you enjoy life like a human.

They never carried like humans.

Norman get away too, too much suffering and try to create a world humans can live. Norman is right

Also

They feel peace in this panel because they were accepted, they were each other and they feel incalculable trust for each other

[kresnikcest]

Artwork by Mutsumi Inomata from the special novel included with the Tales of Graces Anniversary Party Blu-Ray set

[fullscoreshenanigans]

*This is a case-by-case matter, but I don't have strong opinions or headcanons for specific characters about it that I'm attached to. **This is a case-by-case matter, and I do have strong opinions or headcanons for one or a few specific characters about this that I'm attached to.