#we have so much love for our cultures and we'd love to share it but..... not like this lol

[theghostofashton]

.

[becca4leafclover]

waiiiitt I just realized the reason why I love QSMP so much as a concept is because it's kind of like my childhood growing up overseas oh my goooodddddd what if i cried

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

I know I love to talk about the beautiful and joyous parts of sephardic culture and ill keep doing that because I believe we have incredible food, music, art, clothing, language, dance, and more to share with the world. I want people to enjoy our culture and to help preserve it.

however I also need people to understand there is so, so much pain and suffering behind these beautiful things. just like any other jews our joy cannot exist without sadness. the horrible things we have gone through is just as important to our stories as the wonderful things we've done and created

take for example: one of my favorite sephardic songs, adio querida (or kerida because we can't agree on spelling). I love this version. it is a beautiful, heartbreaking song yet without the historical context it sounds much emptier than it really is. this song is about the deep scarring caused by repeated exile and realizing that you'll never find a true home and your people have been wandering for so, so, so long. its the admittance that you loved a place so much and you thought you could live there forever only to realize that that was never going to be your life. this is a particularly sad example however my point still applies to happier things we have made because those are all heavily influenced by the fact that we have had to hide and run away for so so so long.

I would talk about how the Spanish inquisition and expulsion from various places in the MENA region has utterly decimated our culture and now there's just a few of us left to pick up the pieces. however we'd be here for days so let's not do that now

[eww-y-tho]

The hypothetical debates surrounding the whole "Lady and Lord Whistledown" vs "Colin and Penelope Bridgerton" make me wither because

Lady and Lord Whistledown.

I'm telling you, this shit would be so fucking funny. I can picture it in my mind's eye: Bridgerton season 4, we get a quick shot of Colin and Penelope talking shit and giggling like crazy in the background, maybe with some PDA to match because Colin can't keep his hands off her, only to hear a male voice actor of a similar calibre to our angel Julie Andrews join in sometimes while Charlotte picks up the paper and cackles. Obviously, the reveal would happen, but I want to believe that our Queen would be down for Whistledown to continue as long as it doesn't get too personal. It would be kind of unfair and a bit indicative of the period, monarchy and all, but Charlotte being in on it would amp up the comedy points. Plus some ~historical cultural commentary~ would just be that final flavouring of spice.

It would kind of feel like Colin's turning to the dark side because we've already seen quite a few scenes where he seems possessed by Lady Whistdown's attitude and I love the idea of him coming from hating Lady Whistledown's guts to protecting her and joining in because it's fun and it activated his little shit reflex. Plus the subtextual implications of just how much Colin and Penelope actually are best friends and are connected beyond normalcy would just be *chef's kiss*

I would also love it because it feels very partner-in-crime vibes, giving another aspect to their relationship that would be fun to see. Combined with the power Lady Whistledown has on the story, we'd be guaranteed to see our beans quite a lot. Also a "Hello, my Lady," followed by a "Hello, my Lord" after a particularly steamy scene would literally have me shaking crying giggling dancing kicking my feet.

As for Penelope, it honestly depends on how you view her character and her relationship with Lady Whistledown. If the person in question thinks that Lady Whistledown is a vital part of her personality, an aspect of who she is, limiting her by making her quit would just feel really, really sad, man. Lady Whistledown has caused Pen a lot of grief, however, and we see it a lot throughout the story, so I think Colin being there, sharing the secret and partaking would make her feel much more comfortable in her own skin.

Anyway. Love the idea, and would perish if it happened, but probably won't.

Colin and Penelope Bridgerton.

This one's more cute than anything else. Two writers as a couple release solo and joint works sometimes while establishing their reputation as respectable authors and leaving Lady Whistledown behind them. I can see another scene in my mind's eye, Colin and Pen are sitting across from each other on their respective writing desks, writing and then handing each other their work to review and give opinions, paired with a kiss after they start teasing each other about their writing. Considering that the designated Sexy Desk Scene has already been taken, this would have to be in a secluded area or in their bedroom. And then shots of people buying their books and enjoying them would ensue.

With the amount of journals and letters and things Colin's done, he's practically primed for an author's role. Maybe they can be more exposed to Colin's love for travel in this version. Having Penelope with him on his trips while writing their little hearts out would be adorable. Sadly, though, this would mean that they would probably have less screen time.

If you see Lady Whistledown as an outlet for the suffering Penelope was going through throughout the story, she wouldn't need Lady Whistledown anymore and abandon the alias because she's served her purpose as Penelope's coping mechanism, and Colin and Penelope would find their fix through other means. Maybe continuing to gossip but only between the two of them, going back to the beginning of the series and the final link to their relationship.

It's been established over and over again that they both love reading, writing, gossiping, and discussing all things philosophical. And each other for enjoying those qualities. So, I think this dynamic would be particularly interesting because it would be yet another way to connect. They could probably also make each other all hot and bothered by leaving random sexy letters sporadically, which would just be so fitting, tbh. However, that would also work for the Lady and Lord Whistledown dynamic so it's kind of a null point. It would be hot, though.

And, yeah, that's how I see those hypothetical dynamics playing out and how that would affect the characters. But now for the negatives. While I love the Lord Whistledown idea, I do think that Colin is a bit too nice and cute for that, and it would probably be a bit OOC, especially because of his personal experiences with Whistledown, it would be a bit weird if his tune suddenly changed to "yeah, I know gossip can ruin someone's life, but I like it now, so I don't care." But I also just can't fathom Bridgerton without Lady Whistledown, and this idea hinges on literally removing the narrator and source of all the tea, as well as making us lose our angel Julie Andrews. At least the Lady and Lord Whistledown idea fulfills almost all fronts of their relationship dynamic.

Again, as the GIF demonstrates, both are good, and I love both of them for the different ways they would take the characters, but let's be real, a combo would be really fun as well. Like Pen keeps up with Lady Whistledown while Colin writes his own books or smth.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Bye.

[transpanda-1]

🎀Hiya! Can you vote for Uendo Toneido in an official Ace Attorney popularity poll?

You'll need a twitter account to do it, but if you can we'd be suuuuper appreciative of it!

Capcom has said that they're looking into making an AA sequel, so there's a chance this poll might genuinely sway some aspects in the Ace Attorney series! Here's why we'd like you to vote for Uendo:

For those not in the know, basically, Uendo Toneido is an extremely rare example of a positive depiction of a D.I.D. system in a murder mystery genre! Their character largely serves as a way to mock the "Murder Alter Trope", or how systems' alters are always guilty parties in murder mysteries. They do this by setting up a hidden, secret alter, which turns out to be... a harmless timid child!

We, along with many other systems, absolutely adore Uendo... but they can be so much more!

Most of Storyteller revolves around figuring out they're plural. But what would SUPER be wonderful and normalizing is if they appeared in another case and... they're just casually plural! And nobody questions it and it's part of their character! Wouldn't that be lovely?

And at the very least, there's sooooo much good and fun aspects to Uendo you don't need to vote for them just for that!

Like Kisegawa being recognized and respected as a woman!

Or how each alter has cultural history behind them as (basically) fictives of rakugo characters! That was so fun to learn!

We can go on and on, how their design conveys each alter, the nuance of some alters sharing memories, etc. etc.

But basically, we probably wouldn't even have realized we're plural if these dorks didn't come into our life and help normalize the condition for us. And we appreciate them so much for it.

Thank you for existing, and have a wonderful day!

[head-empty-just-ace]

Alright, here's the part 2 of Hozier songs that remind me of the following OP Men. If you haven't read the first part yet, here's the masterlist! Might be the final part too since I'm running low on ideas—

Featured Characters: Yamato, Jimbei, Shanks, Law, Kid, and Sabo

CW: Suggestive Content (its Hozier. Some songs are just down right feral)

Yamato

My lover's got humour She's the giggle at a funeral Knows everybody's disapproval I should've worshipped her sooner If the heavens ever did speak She's the last true mouthpiece Every Sunday's getting more bleak A fresh poison each week "We were born sick," you heard them say it My church offers no absolutes She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom" The only heaven I'll be sent to Is when I'm alone with you

In Yamato's eyes, there was just something about you that made you stood out from the rest. Different just like him— in a good way. That's what kept him drawn to you.

Oh, how he'd worship you like the ethereal being you are. Kneel at your feet and kiss the knuckles of your hands— the lengths he would go through to be blessed with that smile of yours.

The love you two shared was your own. It doesn't matter if the whole world frowns on it. He loved you, and you loved him. That's all that truly mattered to him.

Jimbei

We lay here for years or for hours Thrown here or found To freeze or to thaw So long, we'd become the flowers Two corpses we were Two corpses I saw

And they'd find us in a week When the weather gets hot After the insects have made their claim I'd be home with you I'd be home with you

I have never known sleep Like the slumber that creeps to me I have never known color Like this morning reveals to me

Jimbei's adoration for you felt as calm and soothing as the gentle waves that lap at your feet by the shorelines. It felt safe and gentle— almost as if you could fall deeper and deeper without fear or worry.

He held you in his arms and guided you along a field of flowers. His patience as unwavering as his fierve loyalty was to you. And lie beside you to indulge is an indulgence he'd never tire of.

There's a comforting silence that envelops you both. In his eyes, you were all there was. The past, present, and future— he craved to share it all with you.

Shanks

But I've had no love like your love, ooh, from nobody I'd be appalled if I saw you ever try to be a saint I wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave But I want you to know that I've had no love like your love

Honey, when you warm the bed on Wednesday (yeah) It's suicide Tuesday back in LA If I had the choice between hearing either noise The excitement of a thousand, or the soothing of your voice

At first chance, I'd take the bed warmed by the body, woo I once warmed my hands over a burning Maserati, woo

You knew Shanks adored the life of piracy, and you respected that. And how he loved you all the more for it. The long distance from your warmth did nothing to wane his burning desire for you.

At every chance he gets, he'll find you— even if its only for a short while. To remind you just how much his devotion runs deep. He'd gladly spend hours worshipping your body.

He'll find his way back to you. Always. Should his heart be a compass, there is no doubt it'll point to the seas. But you were that little minx that always had him straying far from the sea.

Trafalgar D. Law

Never feel too good in crowds With folks around When they're playing The anthems of rape culture loud Crude and proud Creatures baying All I've ever done is hide From our times When you're near me Honey, when you kill the lights And kiss my eyes I feel like a person for a moment of my life

But you don't know what hell you put me through To have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you To feel your weight in arms I'd never use

It's the god that heroin prays to It feels good, girl, it feels good It feels good, girl, it feels good It feels good, girl, it feels good Oh to be alone with you

Law knows what its like to be alone. A kind of isolation he never even asked for in the first place and yet the gods deemed he go through it. Eventually, it became a comfort to him— his own company.

All the while you were someone who'd come into his life. A flickering flame in the winter of his soul. And just like a moth, he felt drawn to you in ways he'd never be able to explain.

He expected your love to hurt. It didn't. It enveloped him in a warmth that made him forget what the cold even felt like in the first place. That made him crave more.

Eustass Kid

To be twisted by something A shame without a sin Like how she twisted the bog man After she married him

Rare is this love, keep it covered I need you to run to me, run to me, lover Run until you feel your lungs bleeding

But in all the world There is one lover worthy of her With as many souls claimed as she

But for all he's worth He still shatters always on her earth The cause of every tear she'd ever weep

It was an inexplicable and complicated thing between you and Kid. A burning and passionate love that it left the two of you drawing each other close only to pull away from the other.

By the gods, you knew you'd do anything for each other. The raw and visceral intensity of it kept drawing you two close once more in hopes that your paths will finally intertwine as one.

It may not be today as the bed beside you feels cold and empty. But perhaps— just maybe, a day will come back that the walls crumble down to guide a path where the two of you can walk together.

Sabo

Give your heart and soul to charity 'Cause the rest of you The best of you Honey, belongs to me

Ain't it a gentle sound, the rollin' in the graves? Ain't it like thunder under earth, the sound it makes? Ain't it exciting you, the rumble where you lay? Ain't you my baby? ain't you my baby?

Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing can get a look in on my baby Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing

[kazanfamily]

New intro post

Hello! We're the Kazan World, a mixed origin system. Don't think this means we're traumaendo; in fact, our origins are extremely layered and we consider ourselves outside the traumagenic-endogenic spectrum.

This is our main account, where we'll mainly share things about being a system, LGBT or neurodivergent, and also just shitposts. We have a few sideblogs:

Plural culture blog: @intuspluric-culture-is

Reality shifting blog: @themanyworldsofus

Alterhuman blog: @god-is-a-robot-cat

Most likely, we won't talk in too much depth about our system/headmates on Tumblr (unless we specifically get asks about it, which we'd love to get). If you want to get to know us, just send a DM asking for our SimplyPlural and/or Discord. We're always open to making friends, so no need to be shy!

We're 19 years old, from Brazil, and our collective special interest is geography. The majority of our active system is Hetalia introjects, including our current host. We love source talk, but we might not be too open about certain topics.

We don't have a strict DNI and block freely, but keep in mind that we're heavily pro endogenic, so follow at your own discretion.

[solarpunkaestheticweek]

Other Events During Solarpunk Aesthetic Week - Event 3 Edition

It may be Solarpunk Aesthetic Week, but we're not gonna just assume we're the only thing going on! So let's highlight a few other things that are happening this week, so they can maybe inspire some of what you do for Solarpunk Aesthetic Week!

Pollinator Week 2023 actually takes place June 17th - 23th just like our event!

"Pollinator Week is an annual celebration in support of pollinator health that was initiated and is managed by Pollinator Partnership. It is a time to raise awareness for pollinators and spread the word about what we can do to protect them. The great thing about Pollinator Week is that you can celebrate and get involved any way you like! Popular events include planting for pollinators, hosting garden tours, participating in online bee and butterfly ID workshops, and so much more."

Feel free to check their site here to learn more! Maybe make some pollinator-inspired art and take some biodiversity-boosting actions to celebrate!

Juneteenth/Juneteenth National Independence Day is a federal holiday in the United States commemorating the emancipation of enslaved African Americans, celebrated on the anniversary of an order proclaiming freedom for slaves in Texas on June 19th 1865 (two and a half years after the Emancipation Proclamation was issued). You may see and hear of public readings, street fairs, cookouts, parades, and more celebrating this event in the US--especially since it was officially declared a federal holiday in 2021, meaning its an official day off from school and work for many people now.

Always, but especially on this day, consider the important role and contributions of African Americans and other Black groups have had and will continue to have on history, punk spaces, and the present and future of Solarpunk!

Summer Solstice is June 20th in the Northern Hemisphere, marking the official beginning of the summer season! This day symbolizes the zenith of the sun's position in the sky, and the longest day of the year.

We're called Solarpunks for a reason! And coinciding with this date was totally purposeful on our parts. Let the sun inspire your works--whether it be thinking up solar panel concepts, painting a sunny meadow scene, or just imbuing your work with the bright and blazing energy of our brightest star, go forth and create!

Winter Solstice is also June 20th in the Southern Hemisphere, marking the official beginning of the winter season! This day symbolizes the death and subsequent rebirth of the sun, and is the shortest day and longest night of the year.

When we visualize Solarpunk, we tend to think of bright and sunny spring and summer days, with lush green growth all around. But what would Solarpunk look like in the fall and winter? Let's start talking about it, changing up our color palettes and creating! And if it's wintertime for you right now, tell us about how you're solarpunking even in the colder months!

June 23rd is the last day of Solarpunk Aesthetic Week this summer, and it's also World Music Day, also known as Fête de la Musique! World Music Day celebrates the universal language of music. This day originated in France in 1982, aiming to encourage both amateur and professional musicians to showcase their talents in public spaces, while also providing free access to concerts and performances for the public. This observance promotes the importance of music in society and celebrates its cultural diversity.

Music often plays a major role in people's lives today, and I see it being no different in a Solarpunk future. Whether you're writing up song lyrics or making chill beats, or listening and contributing to our various collaborative Solarpunk playlists, or anything music related--let's take a moment to consider the power of music to spread messages and hope!

Is there more we're forgetting? Want to share the way you celebrate a particular event? Sound off and let us know--we'd love to hear about other related events and how you celebrate them!

[sloanewashingtonappreciationweek]

We got some lovely entries for Day 1! Tomorrow is Day 2, and our theme for the day will be Written in the Stars!!

In a lot of ways this is a segue from today's theme about women in STEM, as Sloane's clear love for stars is very much rooted in science!! Astronomy and astrophysics are subjects she seems to take great interest in, and stargazing is one of the first few pastimes she and Hayden share together! She is in fact so knowledgeable in this field that she's actually qualified enough to be part of NASA if she chose!

But her interest in stars also lies in the stories people tell of them, and how different cultures look at the same constellations and see different things. She is also a storyteller (and while some of us are not the happiest that they had her be the author of AtV!) and her interest in the mythology made behind astronomical objects is so fascinating too!!

Tomorrow, we celebrate both the astronomy whiz and the storyteller in Sloane!

As always, any form of appreciation is welcome! Fanfic, fanart, meta, edits, moodboards, playlists, headcanons, interactive media, even screenshots of favourite scenes or simple posts about your love for her!! Our only requirement is that you center Sloane in your work, and that the depiction is positive!

We also accept WIPs - we know irl can be hard and you may not always get the time to finish off stuff, so do show us a WIP of what you're working on if you're comfortable! We keep our event open even after the deadline (the deadline is mostly for our thank you video!) so you can send in your work anytime as well.

A friendly reminder that these are merely themes for you to use. It isn't completely necessary for your content for a particular day to be posted on that day only. You can post something you intended for Day 2 when Day 5 is on, as long as you tag the post for the day you meant it for.

Be sure to do the following when you make your SWAW:

1. Use #sloanewashingtonappreciationweek and #SWAW in your tags, along with the day you want to send the content for (SWAW Day 1, SWAW Day 2, etc)

2. Tag @sloanewashingtonappreciationweek, as well as hosts @sazanes and @lizzybeth1986 in your posts, so we don't miss any entries!

Fan content blogs have been a great resource in terms of showcasing fan content, so we'd definitely like to explore some of them and see if you'd like to send your content to any of them. A number of them are also running some amazing Valentine's Day events, which I urge you to take a look at:

@choicesficwriterscreations - Both fic and art welcome! Check out their rules and weekly roster here!

@choicesmonthlychallenge and @choicesfebruary2024 - All types of creative stuff welcome. This month, they're doing an awesome event with the Seven Types of Love in Greek mythology as prompts!

@choicespride - All content related to LGBTQ+ characters and/or themes welcome! Check out their awesome Valentine's Day event here!

@choicesflashfics - Fics under 2500 words welcome! Find this week's prompt list here!!

@choicesholidays - Both fic and art welcome!! Check out their Valentine's Day event!!

@choicesprompts - Mostly fic-centric!! Currently they're running a round robin, for which the deadline to enter is Feb 15th!

Can't wait to see what you all have in store tomorrow for us!! 😍😍

Happy Sloane Washington Appreciation Week, everyone!!

[theemmtropy]

The Baldur's Gate 3 (act 1) companions: Reacting to you decorating your tent with flowers

Astarion: "The blooms pale in comparison to your beauty... but I will admit the smell is quite pleasant. Now if only nature was always this tame. 🙄"

Shadowheart: "I think that the beauty of flowers lies in the fact that they are temporary pleasures. Everything lovely must pass on. Oh! I just noticed: they match your eyes."

Gale: "Ah, nothing like the act of creating art to sooth the senses. And I daresay the flowers you've chosen are quite the right bunch. They remind me of some verses I once read, though admittedly they were less a poem and more a recipe for a particularly nasty potion. If you ask me, I'd say that poetry and recipes share more in common than we'd give them credit for..." *trails off on a tangent*

Lae'zel: "The practicing of art is mandatory in my culture. We believe that the study of line and form will aid us in our understanding of weapon-making. Chk, but you are decorating in a most asymmetrical way. It will not promote a balanced mind." *takes the flowers from you and does it herself*

Wyll: "When I was growing up, we would have flowers in every room. They were lovely, but the arrangements were always so... orderly. Restricted. Not much room for creative expression, unfortunately. I can tell that you have an eye for creativity, though. Would you like some assistance?"

Karlach: "You know, I don't think I could ever get tired of flowers. What's this one called? [After you answer] What about this one?" [After you put a flower in her hair] Aw, if I weren't already red, I'd be properly blushing right now. 😊🌸"

Halsin: "Always nice to have pieces of nature with you, wherever you rest. Granted, I'd be more inclined to simply take a nice long nap amid the flower beds, but I know everyone has different ideas of comfort."

Minthara: "Hmm, I think the act of decorating is rather impractical, considering we'll be moving camp eventually. But I will say, the aroma is a pleasant one; I find it both soothing and invigorating. And once they're spent, we can use them to make a very useful toxin."

[rpgbabe]

Fav blogs? 🩶

genuinely too many to list :C there are so many wonderful blogs/ppl on here that ive been foloing/mutuals with for so long for a good reason. i dont wanna cop out and say 'everyone i reblog from' or 'everyone i follow' or anything like that but just kno.. if i like ur stuff and interact w u, that's all genuine + real + ur one of my favs for sure bc i dont fake that stuff. (also if i foloed u on my new blog bc.. i honestly couldnt be assed to find any1 but my favs on here lmao) follows + reblogs of non-original pictures can be shallow but if im actually liking ur personal stuff n everything, i like you and probably want to kno u better :.) i couldnt list all of the ppl in this category bc theres too many + id def miss ppl BUT to actually give you a genuine answer, i do have some blogs that stand out to me bc of their personality + impact + just our general interactions/connection soo

@comingtoyoursenses angel. actual positivity (not like fake positive shallow phony stuff).. beautiful literary sense, soso sweet. she is actually the light <3 not sure how she puts up w me im so negative but i never feel judged by her wah perfection. genuinely too good for me or any1, inspires me to be better :,) also ik i dont need to say more but i feel like she just has a rare nuanced eye for things like so many well-intentioned ppl on here will like see things in black and white and be rly unaccepting of others but i feel like liz has a rare ability to genuinely be open-minded n it's a very special quality imho

@eucalyptus111 honestly one of the realest ppl ive met on here.. i love how she never bullshits + isnt scared to tell me what she rly thinks, conversation comes so naturally bc she's so interesting + so honest + genuine + actually takes the time to rly get to know ppl which is shockingly rare -_- it takes a lot for me to feel comfortable around ppl so quick but w her it's so natural <3 feel like i've known her 4ever

@sklira so talented, so modest, so unique. always introducing me to new things (unintentionally loll) + always standing out from others like so so refreshing. also feel like we have similar passions for like old web/retro gaming/that culture, even tho we're also so diff (bc sklira is way cooler than me ofc heh..) just such a genuine love for art and music and film that isn't just manufactured for internet popularity, one of the rare ppl actually using the internet as it's intended i feel

@blackmold just <3333333. she knows how i feel.. in another life we'd be soulmates. always thinking of her + wishing her the best

@exnymphette kissing on the lips. soul tie. sharing a heart.. one of the only ppl on here i feel like i could just bare my entire soul n she would probably not judge me or hate me for it ;-; need her bak

and ofc everyone like this that has deactivated or become less active, they know who they are, i love them sm 4evr <33!

aand i could do like a whole other section just for aes blogs/non-personal blogs that r just rly cool so.. silent s/o to all of them ofc.. i wont bog down this list too much bc it's already 2 much v.v if u r looking for like actual blog recs tho maybe i can try to answer that sometime as well bc that's probably more like actually useful for other ppl lmao<3

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

hi!! really liked reading your merfolk post!! if you're okay with questions, i have some for you: is there one merfolk culture, or multiple? you said they have celebrations on things like the harvest, what sorts of stuff do they harvest or farm? also, how do they feel about fish... is it like how humans feel about apes or monkeys, like something fairly similar to us, or is it like how humans feel about fish, nice to watch but also... edible. or some other perspective of fish?

OMG

Thank you so much anon!! I would love to answer, so I will!

There are multiple merfolk cultures, all as varied as terrestrial human cultures! This is because the great big event that made them happened all around the planet, and not just to a single population of humans. It is perhaps misleading to refer to all of them as just "merfolk" when they have very different ways of life... but they do still share many biological features and the same sorts of limitations, so I'm still going to lmao. As it is, most of my merfolk worldbuilding focuses on the merfolk of the Baltic Sea Kingdom, Osmeri, and Finland, since I am Finnish myself and most of my characters are too. Plus, explaining how aquatic humans can survive long cold harsh winters in the freezing water takes some more work than explaining how aquatic humans survive in a tropic ocean where food and warmth is plentiful year round!

Closest to our terrestrial harvest, coastal and inland merfolk tend to harvest fruit, which they get from trees that grow near the water! Important vitamins and all that. Merfolk also grow their own crops, but I've yet to figure out what those crops are — I am not a botanist but I know in my heart that humans will be humans and that if we had to go aquatic, we'd find some way to domesticate the aquatic plantlife through the course of thousands of years. Now on-the-spot thinking about harvest, I think harvest would be celebrated in tandem with terrestrial humans too, the merfolk could trade aquatic goods with them and then they'd have one big party of abundance 🤔

Merfolk feel about "fish" as we feel about "mammals", that is, a wide spectrum that goes from worship to disdain, appreciation to annoyance, material gain to value just from existing. Different species of fishes are their livestock, their pets, their wildlife, the neighbourhood "pests"! It must depend on culture, what's with every merson's tail looking exactly like an existing species of animal (the creation stories of merfolk must be wild) but all in all merfolk recognise that the aquatic life around them is fundamentally different from them, though they look similar.

Though I explained it in words, this is a wonderful opportunity to show a comic I made to answer this very question in 2022! It is a tad outdated, what's with Ahti II admitting that he's from Osmeri, but no matter. The children (me) yearn for the mines (to show my art):

...Too cruel? Not to worry, the domestic pikes that Ahti II is familiar with as pets and companions are a different breed from wild pikes! I'm sure they cleared that up immediately after the events of this comic.

Thanks for the questions! :]

[hunxi-after-hours]

Hi hunxi! In your post the other day about The Way Spring Arrives, you said in the tags that you’d put it on a list of required reading for people interested in danmei. I’m curious, is there anything else you’d recommend for people who want to learn more about the culture/context surrounding danmei? Thanks!!

oh goodness, I suppose I did say that somewhat flippantly but I do want to take a moment and reiterate that I am not qualified in the slightest to make a list of required reading, nor do I think that required reading is a thing that should necessarily exist, since we should all read whatever we'd like in our own free time; there is no moral directive on what someone should or should not read, we're all just here to have a good time!!

but! for those so inclined, I... don't think I have so much a reading list as a series of reading thought exercises?

first of all, some academic articles that I found deeply worthwhile:

Jin Feng's 2009 paper: “Addicted to Beauty: Consuming and Producing Web-based Chinese ‘Danmei’ Fiction at Jinjiang”

Tian Xiaofei's 2015 paper: “Slashing Three Kingdoms: A Case Study in Fan Production on the Chinese Web.”

Xi Tian's 2020 paper: “Homosexualizing Boys Love in China: Reflexivity, Genre Transformation, and Cultural Interaction”

Xi Tian's 2021 paper: “More than Conformity or Resistance: Chinese “Boys’ Love” Fandom in the Age of Internet Censorship”

Yang Ling & Xu Yanrui's 2017 paper: “The love that dare not speak its name: The fate of Chinese danmei communities in the 2014 anti-porn campaign”

Yang Ling & Xu Yanrui's 2013 paper, “Forbidden love: incest, generational conflict, and the erotics of power in Chinese BL fiction”

The Way Spring Arrives and Other Stories ed. Yu Chen and Regina Kanyu Wang. I've already gushed about this elsewhere, so I shall leave this be for now

this is by no means a comprehensive list, merely the ones that have really stuck with me for various reasons. I compile a table of contents of my research booklets here, and @dulharpa has been kind enough to share their immense resources here

I'd like to stop short of compiling a list of danmei novels for people to read because folks have different genre and narrative tastes than I do. instead, I think what might be more interesting and customizable would be a kind of reading challenge, paired with thought exercises:

read works by three (or more!) danmei authors

what recurring themes, character traits, narrative tropes, or cultural aspects to you observe across works by different authors? what differences do you notice? do you think these similarities/differences are hallmarks of the genre, coincidental stylistic choices, authorial interests, or wider cultural trends? how do different authors address certain issues, or avoid them altogether? how do these choices affect the content and style of the text, as well as your perception of and/or response to these texts?

read two different danmei novels by the same author (if you can wrangle it, try to read novels in different genres)

what recurring themes, character traits, narrative tropes, or thematic commonalities do you observe across an author’s works? how do the different narrative or genre contexts of each novel affect characters and themes in each work? do you observe changes in an author’s perspective, views, or opinions on common themes and/or social issues from novel to novel?

read a danmei novel that is not wuxia, xianxia, or xuanhuan

how do aspects of worldbuilding differ across genres? what new aspects of culture, character, or language do you observe in a different genre setting? how much character or worldbuilding do you think is attributable to genre convention, and how much isn’t? what do you think readers find attractive about wuxia/xianxia/xuanhuan settings? what do you think readers find attractive about other genres?

read a danmei novel set in modern day China

how do the emotional and narrative stakes of novels change depending on time period? what were you surprised by? what similarities or resonances did you recognize between the text and your own life? how does the fabric of the setting in this novel differ from novels set in other time periods and settings? in what ways do class and power factor into character conflicts and relationships? how do these differ from the way class and power are addressed in historical novels? what is the role of tradition and history in this novel? do you find the text more realistic because it’s set in modern day? why or why not? how important do you think “realism” is to the text and the readers? why might this be? how important is “realism” to your reading experience? why might this be?

read a webnovel that was not serialized on JJWXC

there are many other Chinese internet literature platforms, such as 长佩文学 and 奇点文学网. explore one (or more!) of these literature platforms and note any observations about differences, similarities, or things you’re surprised by. how does this inform your understanding of the larger scope of Chinese web literature? in what ways are literature and genre organized differently from what you’re familiar with? compare and contrast your experience reading a non-JJWXC novel with a JJWXC novel. what was the same? what was different? do you think these similarities/differences are influenced by the different audiences of these websites or larger societal trends in media and culture, or something else entirely?

read a webnovel by a danmei author that is not danmei (i.e. 言情 / heterosexual romance, 无CP / no romance)

what similarities do you observe between this novel and a danmei novel written by the same author? what differences do you observe? how do narrative reflections of gender and character dynamics differ? what other themes, issues, or narrative aspects do you notice coming to the forefront when the focus has shifted away from male/male romance? what were you surprised by? what weren’t you surprised by? has your perception of the author’s views on gender/gender dynamics changed? if so, how? if not, why do you think this is?

read a danmei novel with 2+ adaptations into other forms of media (e.g. audiodrama, donghua, manhua, live action)

what do you think about this novel generates wider media attention and interest? how do the characters and narrative change from text to adaptation? why do you think this happened? how did the popularization via adaptation affect the original text, if at all? how did you come to discover this text, and how many platforms did it have to jump to get to you? why do you think this text received attention on the platform you first heard of it? in what ways beyond the content of the text itself did this novel draw wider attention?

read a danmei novel with no adaptations in other forms of media

why do you think this novel hasn’t been chosen for adaptation yet? in what ways would this novel be challenging to adapt? what medium do you think this novel would be best suited for? how would an adaptation of this novel change your perspective and experience of this text? what would you hope to see in an adaptation of this novel?

read a traditionally published work of Chinese speculative fiction

how does a traditionally published work of Chinese fiction differ stylistically and narratively from the web literature you’ve read? what does the wider field of Chinese speculative fiction look like? how do the imaginations and concerns of Chinese authors manifest in their worldbuilding, setting, characters, themes, and conflicts? how do subgenres of Chinese speculative fiction resemble and differ from genres you’re more familiar with? what did you like about this work? what puts you off about this work? did this work raise any questions or themes that you haven’t thought about before? what aspects of the novel seem rooted in contemporary Chinese society, and which themes seem more universal? if reading in translation, did you identify any moments where context was lost between languages? were there footnotes in the translation, and if so, how did they affect your reading experience? if not, did you ever wish there were footnotes? what kind of additional context did you wish you had? how do you think the translation influenced your reading experience? how high-profile is this work of Chinese speculative fiction, and why do you think this is?

read a novel written by a Chinese diaspora author

how do characters, themes, settings, and worldbuilding differ from the perspective of a diaspora writer? what aspects feel the same? how does translation on linguistic, cultural, or metafictional levels factor into the text? what is the role of tradition and reception in the narrative? what other influences can you spot in the text? what Chinese work would you put this text in conversation with, and why? how are different cultures portrayed in diaspora works vs. non-diaspora works? based on this text, have cultural values shifted in diasporic reception? what is the relationship presented in the text between identity and nationhood, tradition and ownership?

okay I had way too much fun coming up with those discussion questions, but I genuinely do think that these are interesting thought and reading experiments to pursue! I think there’s a lot you can learn about danmei, internet literature, and the wider cultural context of these phenomena simply by taking some time to sit back and reflect on these texts, or observing Chinese fandom interactions (there can of course be a language barrier in doing so, but I’ve learned so much from 弹幕 culture and I heartily encourage other people to do so).

and seriously, if anyone ends up trying this reading challenge, please let me know how it goes!! I’m still pushing myself to read outside of my comfort zone (a lot of these challenges are ones I’ve posed to myself), and would love to hear if other folks have thoughts on their reading journeys

[xticklemeemox]

The Love You Want: III, Part Six

i probably shouldve mentioned the flower meanings in previous chapters before but eh

Blue aster: represent trustworthiness and faithfulness.

Blue Salvias: means "thinking of you,"

Azalea: Some cultures believe the flower symbolizes taking care of yourself and those around you.

Orange tulips: symbolize understanding and appreciation.

Pink tulips: Pink tulips are known for meaning affection, caring, good wishes, and love.

Forget-me-nots: represent loyalty and devotion.

Balloon flowers: These purple and blue blooms represent the desire for a friend to return, honesty and endless love.

Alyssum: In the Victorian language of flowers, Alyssums are known to mean "worth beyond beauty."

a03

masterlist

Previous Part

Next Part

word count: 10,923

link to site used for flowers mentioned in this chapter <3

III awoke that morning with a clear head, fully rested with no signs of pain throughout his body except for the slow healing bruising on their face. He was wrapped around II, holding the drummer's smaller body to III's taller one like a teddy bear as II's snores filled the silence. He looked peaceful, still at rest as the both of them were warm under the blankets with his head tucked under III's chin. III was content to lay there a little longer before going to seek out Vessel to tell him good morning and ask how his night went-

Then III realizes he can barely feel Vessel in the bond. He sits up quickly, accidentally waking II in the process, who sits up slower, rubbing his tired eyes. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

II barely manages to get his question out before III shoots out of bed, tripping over the blankets caught around their legs. "I can barely feel Vessel."

Any tiredness is sapped from II's bones like a lightning strike as the second vessel scrambles to completely attune himself to the bond he shares with the other two vessels. III is already out II's door, bare feet easily heard thumping against the flooring as they run down the hall towards Vessel's room. III's bond was a frantic mess of confusion and worry and panic.

II could not describe just how relieved he was when he felt Vessel's bond in tact, open but just barely, deliberate in how much of Vessel could be felt.

"He's not in his room, or the altar room!" III calls, footsteps pounding down the stairs.

II gets out of bed, too, socks slipping over the floor in his haste to help III check the house. His knee slams into the ground, sending pain up his leg and down the bond but he ignores it in his worry. Panicked cursing meets II's ears as he also makes his way down the stairs, forced to take them slower lest he slip and break his neck. II goes to check the bathroom and practice room as III checks the living room and kitchen, then heads outside. Neither notice that the vines, usually so lively, are listless, moving about the walls at a snails pace.

Vessel isn't in the house, and when III comes back in, II having heard him yelling for Vessel from inside, III says, "He's not out there either! The car's still parked outside. I- I can barely feel him. He promised! He promised he would try to keep the bond open! What happened?"

"I don't know sweetheart, he never usually goes out by himself... but the fucking car's still here...? Fuck, the only place we haven't checked is the attic and most of the forest. With his bond like it is, we'd never find him amidst all those damn trees."

All III can picture in his mind is a bloody Vessel, lost somewhere in the forest, even if the bond shows no pain. He has lied to them with it before.

A thought strikes them-

"Our phones! Have we tried calling him?" III asks, already taking II's arm and pulling him up the stairs.

They apologize when II slips, helping keep him upright as they go slower. "Fucking socks. I'm sorry."

"Its okay, doll, I'm not meaning to rush you."

"You're worried about Ves, sweetheart, it's alright."

III goes to grab his phone off the nightstand in II's room, pausing when he sees three of them, with a note placed over one. "He left his phone..."

"The note says he'll be back soon. He even put the cute six eyed smiley face." II says, taking in Vessel's elegant cursive.

III runs a hand through his loose blonde curls, then does it again to try and release some of the restless energy inside them, "We could ask Sleep again?"

"You probably should, I've displeased the God each time. I'm... not as respectful as I should be when it concerns Vessel's safety."

II knows that he should show the God more respect. That Sleep is his God as much as He is the others'. That he chose Sleep, chose this life... but II hates that Sleep is a flawed God. Just as any other being. Hates that Vessel can't seem to see it, or perhaps doesn't care due to his own lack of self-love and his unending devotion to the God.

III nods in understanding, tugging gently on their bond with Sleep. There is no answer. Not the first time, the second, nor the fifth. Each time, the furrow between III's brow deepens in frustration.

"He's not answering."

"Damn it... why?" II sighs, "We could try the altar?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay, we can do that."

Seeking comfort, II and III link their hands together, heading down the hall. The altar room is dark when they enter, III lighting the candles littering the floor for light they don't truly need. II stops when he reaches the altar itself, eyes widening slightly at what greets him.

There's a drop of blood on the table, red and black swirls telling exactly who it came from. It drips over the edge of the table, a stained knife sitting next to the offering plate.

III steps up next to II, noticing the bloody knife as well. He freezes at the sight of the blood, the red all he can seem to focus on. The scent of iron invades their nostrils, fear flooding the bond like a tidal wave.

In their minds eye, Vessel is bleeding out, laid over the altars edge like he had fallen asleep in worship. Blood drips from his open mouth, red pouring from his mangled arms.

III trembles, letting out a small cry when the match burns their fingers. He'd let it linger in his grip too long. They curse at the pain, silently glad for it, as it pulled them out of their head, putting the match out quickly and lighting another to continue lighting candles. Their mouth is pulled into a grim line, just the same as II's.

II is still standing in the same spot, staring down at the stained knife and blood splotch, when III comes back with a wet rag to wipe up the blood. He refuses to let this newfound fear take ahold of him, to ruin his favorite color. Even as he trembles, even as he still gets flashes of a bloody Vessel every time they blink, III forces themself to remain strong in the face of the blood.

"Has he been offering his blood to Sleep?" III asks quietly, running a hand through his hair as he kneels by the altar.

They light a stick of incense while waiting for a response from II, who slowly kneels to sit beside him silently, finally seeming to realize III was saying something.

"He must be." II's throat is tight with emotion, putting a hand on III's thigh in a desperate bid for comfort.

He needs to keep the tears at bay. He can't break down, he isn't the only one worried right now. II needs to keep it together.

"Might be why he doesn't want us to see him worship." III says, one shaking hand falling to hold II's tightly.

"He used to. We used to worship together, in the beginning. At some point, he asked to worship alone. I wish I knew why. There's so much he keeps from us. I hate it. I just want him to trust us. To be able to trust us."

"I think he does trust us though. Its just- He may not know how to open up, or maybe he doesn't think we'd want him to."

"But we tell him! We tell him all the time that he can lean on us if he needs it. We tell him that we're here for him. We take care of his cuts when he lets us, or asks. We don't... we don't pry nearly as much as I want to. I'm always so happy when he lets us hold him close, even if I can barely feel the pressure of his arm on mine when we sit close. Even if I can't feel his warmth when he cuddles with us! He doesn't- I know he didn't believe me when I told him I loved him!" II cries, not letting himself truly sob like he wants to.

Fuck, II needs to be stronger than this.

II continues, "I want him to believe that I care for him, even if he doesn't believe I love him. I need him to know that he is adored. He worries me, all the time, and I love him so dearly that I don't care about that stress as much as I should. I know its not his fault, I know that this is years of some sort of abuse that made him this way- I just... shit, III."

III listens, not sure what to say, letting II cry into their shoulder. Lets II wrap his arms around III, lets the other put their weight on him as III leans his head on II's shoulder, swamping him in a tight hug that brings some comfort to them both. They know he doesn't mean to, doesn't realize how deeply they care for him, but Vessel worries them so much.

III will tell him. Its time for Vessel to know that they love him. The biggest hurdle will be getting him to believe them. If Vessel didn't believe II when he told him, why would Vessel believe III?

When II finally cries as much as their body will allow, harsh whines and whimpers as his tears overflow fading into quiet little hiccups and sniffles, he speaks, "Ask Sleep where he is. Please."

It takes Sleep some time to answer, minutes passing without their candle lighting up. II and III almost give up by the time Sleep finally arrives. There's a twinge of annoyance in His voices when He asks what it is the vessels needed.

"We're worried about Vessel. Do you know where he is?"

"My First is with me, in my realm. He left you a note telling you of his eventual return, did he not? He left his bond open, did he not?"

"Well, yes, but-" III starts, as II squeezes his hand, worried.

"We're worried he's hurt. It doesn't feel like he's in your realm. His bond- Its not fuzzy around the edges in a mockery of rest-"

"My First will explain things to you when I return him here. You will leave us be until then, my vessels."

II bites his tongue, wanting desperately to say something snarky in return. Its understandable that the God wants to not be disturbed, but they're worried. So worried. For Vessel to disappear like this so soon after what happened to III. Neither of them thought it was without good reason.

II is angry, too. At the situation. Maybe a little at Vessel for doing this to them. He left them a note, sure, but if he is only in Sleep's realm, he could have just... No. The God never gives any warning. This is not Vessel's fault.

Fuck. II hates this. Hates the uncertainty of the situation.

"Alright..." III mutters, clearly not pleased either.

Softening His tone slightly, almost apologetically, "I will return him at the end of the day. Fret no longer, my vessels."

"Thank you, Sleep, for answering our call." III says, as the God's presence begins to fade.

A brush of feeling along their bond with the God, so unlike their own bonds yet still similar, brings acceptance and a small apology.

When II is sure Sleep is no longer near, he lets out a frustrated cry so unlike anything III has ever heard from him.

"If Vessel is in Sleep's realm, why didn't He just take Vessel's mind from his body, here in the house where we can watch over him? Why isn't Vessel here?" II asks, and III can only shrug helplessly, not really understanding.

III had heard them mention Vessel often being taken to Sleep's realm unannounced, but has never witnessed it themself. This situation is out of his realm of knowledge, and so he can't help II. III hates that. Its not their fault, Sleep hasn't done it since III has been around. Clearly, the grace period is over.

"To warn you in advance, Vessel is always... restless. When he returns from Sleep's realm. Desperate to write down what he gleaned from the God's cryptic messages. He explained once that the God will not let him leave until he understands whatever melody or lyric he thinks Vessel could use. I don't know if he'll return that way now, since it seems his entire body is in the realm instead of just his mind but- its better for you to be prepared, in case. If he's in a bad headspace, we'll have to ask him questions later."

"Alright." III takes a second to think of what to say, what to do, "Then we just... wait for him to get back?"

II sighs, "Yeah, that's what Sleep said."

III fiddles with II's fingers, hand still held over his. "Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to put my plan for the garden into action."

"Would you like help?"

"No, it's okay. I appreciate the offer. I want to work on it myself. Vessel helped me plan so much of it... And I need something to do. Wanna have us all be able to finish NieR together, don't really feel like practicing my bass right now."

"Okay sweetheart, I'm going to be in the practice room. I need to get out some of this frustration. I hate that Sleep doesn't understand where our worry stems from, and so doesn't seem to care about it at all."

III is still trying to find words to say when II stands, leaning down to give III a kiss on the crown of his head before disappearing out the altar room door. Sighing, III takes the snuffer and starts to put out the candles. The tips of their fingers still sting and he realizes he must have burned them worse than they thought.

II catches them in the upstairs living room on the way to their room, holding a red med-kit in hand, larger than any of the ones they've taken to keeping in their own rooms. "For your fingers, I can feel your pain. I'm sorry I didn't catch it before. This is the only first aid kit with burn cream."

II leads III to one of the small lounge chairs in the bare upstairs sitting room. As he applies burn cream and then some bandages around the tips of three of III's fingers, he comments on the healing slice on III's palm as III relishes in the coolness of the cream soothing the sting. "I'm glad to see this is healing well. It should be gone within a week or two more."

"Oh good, I feel bad every time Vessel sees the bandage and gets guilty again. And it makes it hard to play my bass sometimes. Still stings."

"He'll be happy when it's completely healed, and you never do something like that again." II states sternly, soft eyes going a little hard.

"I had to get the blade away from him." III mutters, chastised but still not thinking he was entirely in the wrong.

"You panicked, I know. I... It upset me too. I've never... I've never seen him do it before. Only ever helped with the aftermath." II says softly, gaze a little distant as they finish bandaging III's hands, keeping them in a gentle grip.

"I never want to see him do it again. I know how unlikely that is." III says bitterly, less upset at Vessel himself and more that he ever needed to resort to hurting himself at all to cope with whatever he was dealing with. "I... I'm afraid of blood now... I keep seeing him- Seeing him bleeding out in front of me- There's always so much blood- I- I hate it."

"Oh, Three, sweetheart..." II starts, but III cuts him off.

"I'm not going to be forever. I won't let myself. Red is the color of your cheeks and neck, your shoulders even, when you blush. Its the color of Vessel's eyes, like rubies. It was my favorite color, Before. Its my favorite color now. I'm going to work on it, no matter how long it takes. I'm going to overcome this fear."

There is such conviction in III's words that II could never doubt him.

"My fear of spiders... I'll work on it too, even if it means I'm only not afraid of you. I know you're not a spider, and even if you can manifest the arms of one, it shouldn't change anything but... but my brain thinks otherwise, despite my heart's protests."

"I appreciate that. I really, really do. It hurt so badly, when you were scared of me, Doll."

"I know sweetheart, I'm so sorry." II leans forward and wraps III in a hug, pulling him close.

Their breaths breeze gently on each of their ears, and they take in each others scent like oxygen. "Why don't we work on our gifts from Sleep together? I can get used to your spider power that way."

His voice in III's ear, lowered to a careful murmur so as to not hurt him with the noise so close, sends shivers down III's spine. Arousal simmers low in their gut at II's closeness becoming apparent, the warm weight of him pressed into III.

"Sure." III mutters, thinking about those lips so close to the sensitive, pointed shell of his ear.

"I really want to kiss you." III declares, and II laughs as he rolls his eyes though III can't see, a breathy, disbelieving thing that sends more tingles through III's body.

"Oh, you want to do more than that, sweetheart. To think, we were just having a serious conversation." II pulls back, away from III, just enough for their eyes to meet.

Blues of similar color, surrounded by a sea of darkness, darkened in interest. "When the opportunity arises, we're going to be having another serious conversation soon, with Vessel." III promises, the arm they wrapped around II's back when they started to hug sinking dangerously close to II's ass.

II simply watches III for a moment, studying them. Absentmindedly, II taps out a beat on III's thigh.

"I scared him off for a while when I confessed." II frowns, unsure. "He wouldn't, or couldn't speak to me until you got here. Tried to avoid me. Hurt himself."

III takes care to listen to what II is saying. They know it won't be easy.

"It can't hurt to try. I love him, you love him, I love you, so, I want to at least try to convince him." III insists.

Without warning, II leans forward and places a gentle, feather light kiss against the corner of III's mouth before barreling into their chest in a proper, tight hug.

"I love you too." II says into III's chest, turning as pink as III's cheeks.

This is the first time they've ever properly said it. The last time II uttered those words, his heart was mended and then shattered in the span of a few seconds and Vessel couldn't even look at him. II and III had intended to wait until they confessed to Vessel, but these last few days had been so hard despite the good moments. Even if it would shatter the both of them to pieces that only the other could hope to pick back up, at least they would have each other if Vessel ultimately didn't accept their love for him.

Bandaged fingers slip between the strands of II's hair, III's hand coming to rest on the back of his head after sliding up his back. "We'll tell him soon, and hope it goes well."

"I hope it does." II murmurs, words almost lost in the expanse of III's chest as it rises and falls with each breath.

::

While II feeds Elvira then heads off to the practice room, III changes out of their pajamas and brushes through the tangled mess of their hair, putting it in a bun and using little flower clips to keep his hair out of his eyes while he works. Then, III gathers up all of the stuff he and Vessel have collected since they started planning III's garden. Its all piled up in a room downstairs that's unused. III is unsettled, even with the confirmation Vessel would be back with them soon.

The sun is bright overhead when III exits the house, needing to take a couple trips back and forth to bring everything they need outside, along with their radio and phone. They had already marked where they wanted to start the garden, to the left of the house on its side where a small clearing barren of underbrush lays. III smiles a little as he walks the small stone pathway II had suggested that leads to where they wanted the garden. A short, rickety plastic fence meant to resemble wrought iron fencing lines the stone path with little solar-powered lanterns hanging off the spikes. They're barely any taller than III's shin, and thankfully very fake or the last time he came out here and tripped over it would have hurt far worse. III still thinks its cute though, and loves it even more since it was Vessel's suggestion, quiet and more of a question when he pointed them out at the store. II and III had loved the idea, so it was a no brainer to get some even when Vessel backtracked and apologized for the suggestion. III hopes to one day get real wrought iron fencing, that's higher too, to line the pathway on either side. Maybe they'll make a little planter space on either side of the porch and use those to line it.

They set their radio up beside the house out of the sun, making sure the batteries inside are in properly. Turning it on and clicking play, an album III had found at the thrift store begins to play out a tune, Latin vocals and ominous music.

Infesstisumum by Ghost starts off with its title instrumental track, then transitions cleanly into Per Aspera Ad Inferi, and III knows all the words. Idly, III wonders what happened to all of his clothes and belongings after he had died. It doesn't really matter though, not anymore.

III decides to mark out how big of a garden they want, then moves on to actually laying down the red bricks overtop the outline they dug using a spade. They take their time, humming along with the music, feeling the brick scraping their hands as he tries to carefully line them up evenly. Lets himself get lost in the work, anything to abate the worry still writhing inside him. The plot is large enough for III to have a multitude of flowers, and vegetables if they so desired. He's glad Vessel thought of that, helped him figure out the measurements so III would have the space he needed.

III works tirelessly, adding some of his own store bought soil to the dug up dirt, then digging some small holes for the multitude of seeds they intend to plant.

The first flower they intend to grow is daffodils, for rebirth, new beginnings. It is only fitting, even if III has technically been a vessel long enough for it to no longer be apt. Alongside the daffodils, III has chosen to plant bellflowers for gratitude. III thinks those would be lovely as offerings to Sleep during his Worship, or even just to keep on the altar table. He is truly so grateful to the God for picking them as a vessel, for bringing them to Vessel and II.

If these grow well, III plans on seeing if the others' favorite flowers will grow too, if they have favorites, that is. Giving the seeds some water, III sits, letting their hands hold them up as they lean back. Not much else to be done, except wait for something to grow. But that's alright, this is what III wanted. He loves his plants, loves taking care of them. A garden will be a bit different though, he admits, than taking care of already grown potted plants. A lesson in patience and perseverance.

Looking up, III still has a couple hours until the sun sets. Deciding that a walk couldn't hurt, III dusts off their hands on their jeans and heads inside to grab a journal and pencil to sketch with. Maybe a little snack, too, as his empty stomach grumbles in complaint. III contemplates disturbing II, but ultimately decides not to. His drumming reverberates through the upstairs floor faintly as the sound proof paneling on the walls does its best to keep the noise from traveling too far.

The radio is left by their bed, and III only brings his phone alongside his notebook and pencil. Heading back down stairs, III passes Elvira. He takes a moment to pick her up, turning in a circle or two as he smooshes his face to her fur and coos at the black cat like she were a baby. She stares at him in contempt the entire time but does not scratch him, so III considers it a win. She escapes upstairs with a hiss as soon as III sets her down and he laughs at the little creature.

Setting off outside again, III takes in the sounds of nature around him with a smile, easily naming off many of the plants scattering the forest floor in their head.

III pauses on his walk to pick a single flower of each little new section of flower he comes across. They gather a decent little bouquet, stems tucked carefully into the pockets of their dirty jeans so that the flowers stick out. III is glad they decided to wear a tight tank top, one that just barely exposes a sliver of midriff. The weather has quickly taken a turn for the warmer, III notices. It was still cold most days when he arrived, but spring seems to be transitioning into summer quickly.

Blue asters, blue salvias, and azaleas are all carefully sketched out, along with a couple different types of mushrooms. No matter how many times III wanders, he always comes across new things. He knows they will never know the forest quite like Vessel does. III has gotten lost numerous times, and no matter what, Vessel always seems to find them. III supposes it could be the bond, leading Vessel to them, but thinks it may be something different. Maybe it has something to do with the vines around the manor.

When the sun begins to set, the canopies above causing orange to dance along the underbrush, III decides its time to head back.

Vessel's bond is still calm, fuzzy at the edges. III hopes the calm is genuine, that Vessel is really alright. II's bond has been steadily leaking exhaustion, a tiredness that has been purposefully brought upon as the day wears on.

III frowns, deciding its time for II to take a break. III has been outside for hours, and even when he went inside a while ago, II hadn't left the practice room.

By the time III makes it back to the house, they first put all the flowers they collected in a little glass, then go to take a quick shower. Hair still dripping, III finds II exactly where he thought he would, in the practice room dripping sweat as he beats away at his drumkit. II notices them, but doesn't say anything, continuing to pound away a fast beat.

"Hey, Doll, the sun just set a minute ago. You should take a break."

"Is Vessel back yet?" II asks, stopping to wipe sweat off his brow, panting from the exertion he has undergone all day.

Shaking their head, III hates to tell II no, that Vessel hasn't turned up. "Damn it." II curses, standing up.

He shakes his legs out one at a time, wincing at the movement and the pain in his back. At III's concerned look, II says, "Overdid it."

"Go take a hot shower. See if it'll help. I'll make sandwiches." III says as II moves towards them at the door.

"Oh, thank you. I didn't realize how hungry I was." II thanks them as he walks by, taking a hand and placing an unthinking kiss on III's forearm as he passes.

A little stunned, III shakes it off quickly and turns to pull II back before he can get too far. III pulls him towards himself, not caring how sweaty II is, and places a big, loud kiss on II's damp hair.

II grumbles in mild complaint, not pulling away until III does so, soaking up the affection fondly.

"Go shower, Doll. You stink." III laughs, gently shoving II away.

"Why, thank you. You're ever so kind to me."

"Careful." III warns playfully, "You're beginning to sound like Ves."

III's smile falls almost immediately as what they said sets in, "I trust Sleep to keep their word, at least. Vessel will turn up soon, sweetheart." II tries to reassure, but it falls short in the face of his own worry.

"I know. Thanks, Doll. Go shower, I'll be in the kitchen."

III makes a few sandwiches while II is in the shower, of a couple different types. He makes one that Vessel usually favors, even if he doesn't need to eat. He always looks so happy when they make him food, or bring him his favorite drink. Or do anything kind for him at all, really. Its saddening, but so, so endearing.

III can't wait for Vessel to get back.

::

Vessel lays maskless in a bed of flowers, surrounded by orange and pink tulips, forget-me-not's, and alyssums. His God sits beside him, growing more flowers as time passes until the meadow is covered in them and Vessel is nearly lost in the sea of color.

As pleased as Vessel has been to spend this time with his God, to show Him what Vessel has been working on, to show how he has interpreted the lyrics or melodies Sleep has given him, Vessel longs to return to the other vessels. He hates the emotions that have been stemming from their bonds all day.

"Everything is all right, my Vessel. The others can manage a day without you near. Stay with me for a little while longer." Sleep croons, his translucent hand unable to touch Vessel as it flickers in and out of existence over Vessel's hair.

"But... They're... They're so worried. I don't like being the cause of it. I already cause enough trouble for them." Vessel says, attention being pulled back to the bonds he shares with the other vessels.

There have been hints of playfulness, minor pain from III that had almost caused Vessel to ask Sleep to return him right then, exhaustion seeping in to their bonds, and so much worry.

"They love you, my First. Any worry you may or may not have caused stems from that love."

"They do not love me." Vessel insists, turning his gazes away from his God.

"They do."

"Then I am not worthy of it." Vessel spits, moving to stand, backing away, arms held close.

His eyes are wild, distress leaking out of every pore at the turn this conversation has taken. The flowers are trampled guiltily under his feet, beauty squashed under his heel like everything else Vessel has ever touched.

"Not worthy. Will never be worthy." He mutters, raking his nails down his bicep, scratching at the skin harshly.

"They will decide themselves whether you are worthy of their love, and you are worthy of it. I would not have chosen you if you were not worthy." Sleep stands, too, their taller form towering over Vessel.

It makes him feel small.

Sleep would not have chosen them, if they were not worthy of the First.

"Maybe you made a mistake." Vessel's voice is weak, hunching over into himself to hide from the anger he knows is coming.

Who is he to question his God?

"Are you questioning my judgment, my Vessel?" Sleep's voices are stern, his presence filling the meadow and overpowering Vessel's every sense, but He is not angry.

Vessel shakes his head shyly, averting his gaze. Sleep's presence brushes against his mind so fondly, almost apologetic, featherlight touches on his cheek, his forehead. His cheeks alight with a fiery blush, and Vessel sends his love down the bond with his God, knowing at least He loves him back. There was no question in that alone.

"They love you, I swear it."

"I do not know what it feels like to be loved kindly."

"Yes, you do."

"I don't! Everyone who has ever loved me has hurt me. The other vessels do not hurt me, therefore they do not love me."

"You are wrong. The others love you dearly. They truly love you. Those fools who claimed to love you and then marred your skin and ripped your heart to smithereens did not love you."

Softer now, Sleep continues, longing to hold His first vessel but unable to truly touch him, "The second and third love you kindly. Their love is not painful. You feel their love for you everyday. It is in every kind word or thought, every gentle action. Every smile and laugh, imbued into their very souls. They worry for you now, out of love. Accept them, and they will show you if only you will open your eyes enough to see through your past and into your present."

"I do not know how to move past what has been done to me." Vessel says, choking on a silent sob that leaves his lips in a faint whimper.

Golden tears drip onto his clothes, falling onto the broken flowers beneath his feet as he keels over on a despaired moan, hands coming up to cover his face from view.

He feels too vulnerable under the eyes of his God. He wants his mask.

A weight settles over Vessel's face, a hard material pressing into his fingers.

Vessel misses Sleep's surprised expression, carefully neutralized before His vessel can see.

Sleep did not realize that His first had any control over this realm. Sleep had left that mask in the other realm, wishing to look upon his vessel properly with his own eyes. Perhaps... perhaps Sleep gave Vessel more of himself than he thought. Than he wanted to.

He has not had vessels before. Sleep wonders if he made a mistake. First, it was His Vessel being able to put other humans to sleep, then to eat nightmares. His Vessel has taken so many of Sleep's own features on...

Vessel sobs silently, grateful for the mask that had appeared over his face in a shimmery golden glow.

So long ago when Sleep first came to Vessel, Sleep wonders if he gave too much of himself to his First, eager to save him from the edge of no return.

His First's body was so damaged, Sleep could barely repair it, no matter the tight grip the God had on his vessels soul. His decision had taken too long. That indecision almost cost Sleep something dear.

"They will help you."

Vessel does not respond for a moment, wiping unending tears from under his mask. Finally, he responds, "I do not want to help myself. I... do not know how to care about my well being enough... to want help."

Sleep also takes a moment to think on what to say. The God... isn't sure how to respond to that.

How does he help someone who does not want to be helped?

"You asked to be loved, my First." Its a familiar saying, "The other vessels... they will help you learn to love yourself. They're trying, even now, to instill in you that you are not worthless."

"You are everything."

"I am ugly." Vessel responds, and Sleep does not say anything in return, only stares down at His first with such sad, adoring eyes.

"I am inadequate." Vessel spits, letting out another sob, a harsh thing that grates on his vocal chords.

"I am lost." Vessel mutters, removing his hands from his face for only a moment.

All six of his eyes meet as many of Sleep's own as he can, and Sleep sees the depths of Vessel's emotions in the crimson irises. There is such loathing in his eyes, directed inward. Sleep is lost in it, lost in the face of such human emotion. His Vessel has always been so expressive, so human. Sleep has always wanted to understand what it meant to be human. His vessel has shown him so much.

Vessel awaits the day his God casts him away. All Vessel knows is to hurt, to be left behind by those he loves. Trampled under the feet of those around him. He has been left as a broken shell, shattered fragments with no hope of being put back together. He has been this way so long he doesn't remember a time where he could look upon himself in the mirror and smile at his own reflection. Does not remember a time when he loved himself. Does he even wish to love himself? Vessel... isn't sure. Doesn't think so. No, Vessel knows so. There has never been any ounce of love towards himself, never any desire to cultivate any affection. His soul was torn asunder long ago. Vessel was used to always giving all he has to give, never receiving that same love in return. There was never any left for himself.

"I wish to return, now. Please." Vessel sobs, sniffling as he forces his next words out, "I... I will listen to your advice. I will try to let them love me, only if they want to. I will not tell them myself, and if it means I stay full of this love, waking up beneath it all for the rest of my existence, then so be it."

"As you wish, my Vessel."

Vessel returns to the Earthen realm in the same state he left, despair choking him. Blood was still splattered over his mask, still dripping down his front. His chest ached something fierce, every rib on fire and Vessel knows his heart would be racing, pounding furiously beneath those aching ribs had its home still been in his chest. A fog has settled over the ground, the moon bright above him as he sits up from where he was leant on a porch pillar, strewn over one of the steps. The vines have tangled gently in his hair, caressing his thigh as if in welcome.

Vessel moves to stand, and finds his legs do not want to carry him up the steps easily. Each leg feels as though a leaden weight is attached at the ankle, and something feels vaguely off in his mind. His throat is tight, tongue heavy in his mouth, and he feels vaguely nauseous with every step. Vessel is afraid. Always so afraid.

II and III had shared a quiet dinner and settled in on the couch under a thin blanket meant more for comfort than heat. II is the one who hears the quiet click of the front door shutting, a hand idly playing with III's hair as the TV plays some movie II was only half paying attention to. II carefully gets up from the couch after removing III's head from his thigh. As stressful as the day has been while they waited for Vessel to return, and III's time outside, they had fallen asleep only a quarter way into the movie they'd put on.

Its nearly midnight when Vessel stumbles in the door, bloody and out of it. He's already making his way up the staircase when II reaches him, vines reaching towards him, writhing in their will to be near. Vessel pauses at the top when II calls out to him quietly, a leaf brushing his ankle.

"Vessel?"

Vessel refuses to turn around, afraid of what is to come.

"I've returned. I apologize for worrying you." Vessel says simply, trying to escape to his room before II can see the blood.

II follows Vessel as he tries to escape to his room, catching Vessel by the hand long enough to get him to stop moving. Vessel freezes in place like a stone statue, moving no further, not even when II releases his hand with a soft apology. They try not to startle him with sudden touches from behind, and yet what else was II to do?

"Where did you go?" II asks, stern, but still concerned.

Vessel turns, pupils mere pinpricks in his fear. His bond is calm, but under the surface II can see a storm brewing in Vessel's eyes. II recognizes that the bond is lying to him. That Vessel is hiding.

Then II's eyes register the blood.

There was blood on his face, splattered along the cheek of his mask. A long line of red dripped down and off the jaw. It was beginning to crust on his chest, dripping down his stomach in rivulets to soak the waistband of his pants.

"This isn't mine." Vessel states, seeing the oncoming panic on II's face and down the bond.

"I killed them."

"What?" II says, struggling to hear Vessel's words, to move past the bloody mess on the taller man.

"Three's murderers. I hunted them down and slaughtered them." Vessel says, somewhat louder this time, a noose tightening around his neck with every passing moment.

"Do you hate me? Are you... Are you going to leave? Leave me?" He asks, finally moving his six eyed gaze up to meet II's, shadows from his mask casting them into a darkness that amplifies the hue of his glowing crimson irises.

There is resignation in his eyes, in the bond he finally lets reveal his true emotions. There is no regret. Just fear, and expectation. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, throat tightening further, and Vessel wants nothing more than to lock himself away in his room and pretend that the other vessels still cared for him.

For a time, II cannot speak. He isn't sure what to say. Vessel has just killed people. That isn't to say II hadn't wanted to do the same, after III had been so terrified. Especially when III woke up from a nightmare yesterday, in tears and unable to breathe through the immediate panic attack they were sent in to.

The bruise on III's face has darkened into a deep purple, swelling up. The man's fist was large, and it damaged a good portion of III's face, and every time II has seen it, it has filled him with unadulterated rage. If Vessel had killed the man when III had initially been assaulted, II would not have stopped him.

"No, of course I don't hate you, Vessel. I'm upset you didn't let me get a punch in. For what they did to Three."

Surprise flits down the bond, the expectation ebbing away to be replaced by confusion.

"You... never respond the way I think you will." Vessel admits hoarsely, nails digging into his arms, shining, golden tears dripping off his jaw.

II gently asks him not to do that, and Vessel listens, slowly lowering his arms, fingers twitching to dig back in. Vessel desperately needs to punish himself somehow, but he has to wait. He has to. He never wants to see that expression on III's face ever again, that haunted look when Vessel took a knife to his arm that was somehow worse than when he was confronted with one of their murderers.

"They killed our Three. I wonder, sometimes, if we could have prevented it. Yet, that thought leads me to wonder if Three would have come to us at all. I'm glad you avenged them." II reaches forward, hands hovering over the sides of Vessel's mask.

A silent question in the bond, in his eyes, and Vessel nods, a small thing but II noticed easily due to their closeness.

There is a shuddering breath in Vessel's ears, harsh wheezing that seems to fade with every second Vessel hears it. His hands tingle, nails digging into his sides hard enough to draw blood as he holds them to himself in a mockery of a hug.

He can see III dying before him, unable to stop those bastards from beating them to death. Unable to hold them as they took their last breath. Vessel will never be able to forget it. The memory will be imprinted into his soul for the rest of eternity unless his God grants him the mercy of destroying his everything its entirety. He will never escape the agony of the experience. The agony of watching one of the most beloved people in his entire life fade away before him, unable to touch, to comfort, to save.

"Sweetheart?" Vessel glances up from where his gaze has fallen to the floor, at III lying there beaten and bloody, chest slowly rising and falling, finding his view of II's concern is no longer obscured by his mask.

Vessel's six eyes are all glowing faintly, the symbol in the hollow of his throat too. His skin, black as night, has not faded back into only his arms and legs, shadows lingering around his edges in wisps. Sleep's presence is still prominent, satisfied and satiated and eager for him to return to the God's realm even though Vessel had just left. Gentle whispers tickle the shell of his ear, murmurs of sweet nothings that Vessel can't quite make out. Vessel wishes he could take comfort from them.

Swallowing harshly, Vessel forces out, "'m okay. Had to watch."

"Watch what sweetheart?" II is careful not to touch Vessel in case the other reacts badly to it, hands hovering awkwardly in front of him, longing to reach forward.

"Three die. Had to know who did it. Their names. Faces. Had to watch. Couldn't-" Vessel chokes out a gasp when the shuddering breaths in his ears cease suddenly.

He scrunches his eyes closed, trying to will away the frightening noise, the gruesome apparition. He knows it is not real. He knows it is only his mind playing tricks on him.

"Oh, Vessel, honey, I'm sorry." II bites his lip with furrowed brows, "I... I hate that you had to do that. Three has said their death wasn't... That it wasn't kind."

"It was awful. Sleep showed me with a dream." Vessel admits as he reopens his eyes, voice going softer, more hoarse, as he struggles to keep from sobbing again.

"He... I couldn't touch him. Couldn't help. Couldn't... I couldn't do anything. I could only watch." Tears leaking down his cheeks, Vessel drags his claws over his sides, hugging himself tightly.

The self-comfort action has never worked like Vessel wanted it to, but who else did he have to hug him Before, if not himself?

Vessel's throat finally closes on him, thorns wrapping tightly around his voice-box and ceasing use of his voice. No, no, he still has to talk to III. Vessel has to know if he's lost one of his beloveds, he has to know if III will hate him for what he has done. He can't- Not his voice, not right now. Please.

His breaths come out in shorter and shorter pants, a faint tremble setting into his limbs. Scratching at his sides, his claws leave angry little lines and welts. "Hey, hey, Vessel, sweetheart don't do that."

Foregoing the no touching rule II had enforced upon himself, he reaches out and forcefully takes Vessel's hands in his own. They're ice cold to the touch, one crusted with blood, as II slowly leads them over to the same little couch he and III had sat on earlier that day. Sitting them both down, II places Vessel's mask to the side, taking one of his hands and putting it on II's own chest.

Deliberate, deep breaths start out slow enough for Vessel to follow. It takes time for Vessel to try, and so II starts humming one of their songs off-key. Vessel doesn't cease trembling, but the hand against II's chest curls its fingers to hold it. Slowly, Vessel's breathing gets deep enough to match II's. His face is riddled with guilt and stress, and II doesn't know how to help him.

The med-kit II had used on III earlier still sits nearby, and II grabs it to use on Vessel's scratches. Its a familiar routine, to clean and bandage the scratches and cuts. II hates the familiarity, hates the lingering, slimy feeling of guilt that settles over Vessel's bond like a stubborn oil that won't go away.

"Mind if I clean those, sweetheart?" II keeps his voice gentle, taking in the scratches on Vessel's sides.

Vessel places a hand to his throat, shaking his head frantically to show II he can't use his voice. Vessel is worried II will be mad at him for not being able to speak during such a serious conversation.

"That's alright, sweetheart. No need to panic, I'm not upset."

II gestures at Vessel's injuries again and Vessel nods his head in reluctant  acceptance. A small smile slips onto II's face, his eyes scrunching at the corners. "Thank you." He murmurs, taking out antiseptic and bandages to place over the wounds.

II continues humming while he works, and Vessel watches II's face intently, only glancing away shyly when II looks up at him.

When he's done, having cleaned some of the blood that wasn't Vessel's off, II takes Vessel's phone out of his back pocket. "Here, was holding onto this for when you came back."

Nodding in thanks, Vessel takes it. When he turns the phone screen on, the lock screen is of III, spinning Elvira around with a happy little grin as the cat looks on at them, disgruntled. Its a bit blurry, but it makes Vessel smile. Vessel adores III, and Elvira.

"He didn't see me get that." II smiles mischievously.

'It's cute. Thank you :::D' Vessel types, showing II, even as his mind wanders briefly to the sliver of III's midriff exposed in the photo.

"You're welcome, Ves. I'm glad you like it."

'Do you want me to kill yours? For killing you, too?' Vessel types out, tilting his head to the side, taking in a careful, measured breath as he turns the phone around for II to see.

Vessel watches as II clearly thinks it over. Its cute, the expression II gets when he concentrates. A furrow between his brow that almost makes him look angry. Vessel sees it most when II drums.

"No. It was a robbery. They probably were desperate for money, for whatever reason. I... I do not want them dead." II decides, finally, brushing a strand of hair from Vessel's face.

His hand remains on Vessel's cheek, the other leaning in to the touch, eyes fluttering closed. II wants to kiss him. Wants to feel the chapped, bitten skin of Vessel's lips against his own. Wants to know what Vessel tastes like. Will it be the mint of his toothpaste, iron from where he has bitten his lips and inner cheeks so hard that blood spills into his mouth? Will it be something II can't name, but screams of Vessel no matter what it is?

II looks away from Vessel's lips, finding Vessel watching him in open curiosity, perhaps some form of invitation if II were to look into it further.

"I'm going to go wake III, get him in bed. They worked on their garden while you were gone, were outside all day. He came back inside exhausted." II says, moving to stand as his hands slip from Vessel's skin.

His gaze slips back to Vessel's lips, raising to one pair of his six eyes. They're still watching II intently and II feels as though he is going to be burnt right through with the intensity of Vessel's searing gaze. He barely notices when Vessel has turned the phone around for II to read what he wrote, easily typing with one pair of eyes on the keyboard.

'Are you going to bed?'

"Yeah, Three woke up early... then they realized you weren't in the house and woke me up too. I've been in the practice room all day."

Guilt overcomes Vessel's pretty features, flooding the bond.

'I apologize. I left a note.'

"Yes, we found it, honey, but it didn't abate our worry. We could barely feel you in the bond. We didn't know where you went. You're allowed to go anywhere you please... its just, you left the car, your phone... And you've never been inclined to leave the realm by yourself before. We were worried." II tells Vessel softly, trying to convey that they're not upset, they were only concerned. "Especially after what has just recently happened with Three."

'I apologize. It was a necessary endeavor though.'

"I realize that now, it was just concerning at the time, Ves."

Vessel doesn't type anything else out for a moment, seeming to just process what II has said. Slowly, he nods, contemplating something.

II watches Vessel bite his lower lip with a fang, his angel bites glinting in the low light of the lamp nearby. Watches Vessel's split tongue peeking out to lave the bitten skin with saliva.

II really wants to kiss him.

'Can I join you in bed?' As Vessel turns the phone around for II to see, his face goes up in flames as he realizes just what he typed and how it could be taken.

II laughs lightly, catching himself before he leans too far forward with the intention of actually kissing Vessel at the intense wave of affection that washes over him.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Three will probably join us later, if he wakes and realizes I put them in their own room. They stole one of my tater tots over dinner." II jokes, and Vessel cracks a smile, a lopsided little thing that sends II's heart pounding erratically in his chest.

"Go ahead and take a shower... Ah, damnit, I forgot I just did your bandages." II groans, "Take the shower anyway. I'll just redo them. And I can try to braid your hair. Three has been letting me practice small ones on theirs."

Vessel laughs, a faint little chuckle that II barely heard, but it causes a wide grin to split his cheeks. Vessel's surprised look at the sound simultaneously shatters II's heart and causes pride to swell in his chest.

II shoos Vessel on with a benign smile, dimple on full show, and Vessel wanders off to his room to grab a change of clothes. On his nightstand is a small vase, filled with all sorts of little flowers.  Vessel finds he can name a couple of them, balloon flowers and beautiful alyssums and one he thinks may be called salvia's. Balloon flowers can mean the desire for a friend to return, or everlasting love. Vessel wonders which meaning III meant, or if they picked them just for their beauty. Vessel doesn't remember what the alyssums stand for, but recognizes them from Sleep's realm. The sight fills Vessel with happiness. He knows exactly who left him these flowers.

A gentle finger traces down the length of one of the alyssums, and the flower's petals seem to glow a little at the touch, a white to match the color of the petals. Where they had been damaged on one of the petals, the flower seems to rejuvenate, leaning into Vessel's fingers.

Vessel tilts his head, curious, as he touches another of the damaged flowers, this one missing a petal entirely. A new petal unfurls under Vessel's finger, the purple-blue of the balloon flower glowing gently in Vessel's dark room. A grin splits Vessel's face, a wide thing that bares fangs and hurts his cheeks. With this gift, which Vessel thinks may be connected to his heart, he can keep the flowers III has gifted him alive far longer. He wonders if he can use it on other plants, since it clearly does not apply only to the vines around the house.

III doesn't stir when II hefts him up with ease, their head lolling onto II's shoulder. Getting them up the staircase surely must have looked comical from an outsiders point of view, with III being considerably taller than II. II leaves III in their clothes; dirt covered jeans, sweaty tank top and all then heads off to his room to change into his own pajamas.

Vessel joins II in his room around ten minutes later, with hair still dripping water droplets. A hoodie and sweatshirt hangs over his arm, and a pair of navy blue pajama pants covered in yellow stars drag the floor. In his arms is his plague doctor plushie, held close to his bare chest with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It leaves his Sleep given tattoos on display, and II adores the sight. II holds one arm out, a hand splayed open in invitation. Vessel shuffles forward, taking II's hand and letting the other pull him gently onto the bed. He sits at the edge of it while II brushes his hair, braiding it down between his shoulder blades.

His hair has grown longer since he first became a vessel, a bit past his shoulders now. It's a short braid, but Vessel is happy II has done it for him anyway. Vessel types out his gratitude as he remains seated in front of II.

Redoing Vessel's bandages is a quick, easy affair. When II is done and slides under the covers to get comfy, Vessel puts his mask on II's nightstand and changes into his shirt and hoodie, slipping under the covers. II yelps when Vessel's cold toes touch his calf, curling up at Vessel's side with a lighthearted joke about Vessel having frostbite. Vessel huffs a laugh, II's tone making it clear he is only joking.

They sit in silence while II settles down to sleep, tired eyes already fighting to stay closed as he blinks. One hand glides up Vessel's arm as the two face each other, Vessel's phone laid face down between them.

"I'm glad you weren't hurt." II whispers, fingers trailing back and forth over Vessel's bicep.

Goosebumps arise at the reverent touch, 'They had no chance to hurt me.' Vessel assures as he shows II his phone screen, and even now he doesn't understand why they do not want to seem him hurt.

Vessel is used to pain, he welcomes it. Pain is a constant companion, one he has always had by his side. Vessel can handle pain. He frowns, but doesn't say anything more. II slowly nods off after that, not quite reassured, hand slipping off of Vessel's bicep, settling into a peaceful sleep.

When Vessel is sure II is asleep, he lifts himself onto an elbow, taking his phone and snapping a quick picture of II sleeping beside him. His hair is splayed over the pillows, a calm expression on his visage, with one hand still holding Vessel's between them.

The camera button makes the phone let out a shuttering sound, and Vessel panics, clicking the screen off and laying back down quickly. II doesn't stir, only let's out a small snore that sends affection whizzing through Vessel's nervous system. When Vessel is sure II will not wake, he opens his screen again, six eyes squinting at the brightness and tries to figure out how to change his phone's lock screen. After he figures out how to dim the screen to save his eyesight.

III wakes up groggy a few hours later, seeing the empty bed and frowning in displeasure.

Vessels bond is open, shining with a silvery luminous beauty. Its peaceful, just being able to feel it. To know Vessel is alive. All the stress III had been feeling throughout the day seems to wash away under that gentle light. III practically hops out of bed, immediately noticing they're still in their dirty jeans and shirt from earlier. They're quick to change into a loose t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder and a pair of pajama pants, making their way out of their room.

They see II heading downstairs for the restroom, dressed in a loose tank top and low riding shorts, hair mussed up on one side from sleeping.

"Is Vessel back?" III asks, rubbing one eye with a fist.

"Yes, he's in my room. Do you want to join us?" II responds, eyes soft as they look at III and their messy hair pulled back into a bun.

III nods eagerly, "Yeah, why didn't you just take me to your room anyway?"

III frowns, but II only smirks playfully, "You stole one of my tater tots. It was only fair."

"You little shit." III curses fondly, "Just for that I'm taking one every time we eat tater tots."

II gasps in mock offense, "You wouldn't!"

"Oh, I absolutely will."

III smile is infectious, one easily slipping onto II's face to mirror it, but it falls quickly as he turns around to continue to the restroom.

He pauses before he goes downstairs, one foot on a step, turning his head to look at III once more. III is about to turn around to go get their stuff when II whispers their name.

III turns back around, a little confused at II's tone.

There's a contemplative expression upon his visage before he comes to a decision.

"We'll tell him in the morning, after breakfast."

III's face lights up in excitement, but II continues. "Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart. Not like I did... And he wants to speak with you when you wake up. He has something to tell you. About where he went today."

"Okay, and I know..." III says, a little confused.

They already knew not to get their hopes up too high, after what II had said happened last time, when II confessed to Vessel. How Vessel had freaked out, ran away and hid. It was one of the only times Vessel had ever snapped at II, he had said. But... what does any of this have to do with what Vessel did while he was away?

"Get your pillow, Three, and head on to my room." II says softly, closing the conversation.

III stares after him for a moment, before going to do what II said. Vessel is on his side facing the door, his thick blanket laid over him and his stuffy held close under his chin. All six eyes move from his phone to III as they enter, clutching their pillow. Vessel smiles, a small, hesitant thing that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Vessel, I'm so glad you're back! I missed you, and we were worried!" III lights up much like he did earlier, bounding over to Vessel.

Vessel sets his phone on II's nightstand, and III does the same when he's close enough. "Scoot over, I wanna cuddle."

Vessel huffs a laugh, doing as III asks and moving to the middle of the bed. He does not speak, but a hand comes to glance over his throat as he shakes his head, all six eyes apologetic, and III understands. II comes back soon, finding III already cuddled up to Vessel on one side, showing him a video they'd found of cats getting startled at mundane things. There's a smile on Vessel and III's faces, III laughing loudly and shaking the whole bed with it.

Vessel flinches back from the noise slightly, smile falling into thin lips. There is determination in the bond, a firm resolve, and Vessel leans his shoulder onto III's, who places their own head on Vessel's in return. III sends down his feelings of pride in Vessel, and Vessel gently sends back hesitant acceptance. II climbs over both of them, and Vessel picks up his plushie from where it laid at his side, pulling it close to his chest instead.

II, desperate to give Vessel any affection he can before he inevitably pulls away from them come morning, leans forward to place a kiss on Vessel's shoulder, wrapping a hand around Vessel's and scooting impossibly closer to rest his head over the lingering tingle of the kiss he left. III, seeing the action, makes one of his own, leaning over and placing a kiss to Vessel's temple, and then getting up on an elbow to lean over and kiss II on the forehead.

Vessel is warm inside, and can feel his body growing warmer from II and III laying on either side of him, both cuddled as close as they know Vessel will allow. No hands stray close to his neck or chest, no ear too close to hear his lack of heartbeat through his many layers.

When morning comes, Vessel will keep a modicum of distance from III. He knows it's necessary for when III no longer wants him near, but for now Vessel will soak up any affection they'll give him. For now, they will giggle and laugh at the continuous videos III shows II and Vessel. He will let himself have this, even as he fears it will be torn from his fingers come morning.

[asia2023animationgirl]

@jamalwhite12 I made part 4 of The Mystery Kids!

Chapter 4: The Secret of the Tiki Monsters

The next morning, the Mystery Kids gathered at the Luau Cabana Cafe, buzzing with anticipation. Valerie, their fearless leader, stood up and addressed the group.

"Okay, team, we've got some promising leads on these Tiki Monsters, but we need to dig deeper. I think it's time we paid a visit to the local elder, Kapono, who might have some insights into the cultural significance of these creatures."

Jason, ever the adventurer, perked up. "Sweet! I'm ready to uncover some ancient Hawaiian secrets. Spot's coming too, right?" He looked down at his loyal dog, who barked in agreement.

Kip, the resident science enthusiast, nodded thoughtfully. "That's a great idea, Valerie. If we can understand the Tiki Monsters from a cultural perspective, it might help us figure out why they're causing so much trouble."

Sydney chimed in, her fashion-forward mind already whirring. "And maybe we can find some cool Hawaiian-inspired outfits to wear for the occasion. Gotta look our best to impress the elder, you know?"

Lizzy, the newcomer from Tokyo, smiled warmly. "I'm sure Kapono will be happy to share his knowledge with us. The Tiki Monsters are an important part of Hawaiian folklore, and we should approach them with respect."

Kenya, Kip's younger sister, bounced excitedly. "I hope he tells us stories about the Tiki Monsters! I want to learn all about them."

Valerie nodded, pleased to see her team's enthusiasm. "Alright, then it's settled. Let's head out and see what Kapono has to say."

The group made their way through the vibrant streets of Honolulu, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling city. Lizzy pointed out various landmarks and shared snippets of Hawaiian history, captivating the others with her cultural knowledge.

After a short hike, they arrived at a tranquil, secluded area where a weathered, elderly man sat cross-legged under the shade of a towering palm tree. This was Kapono, the local elder they had come to see.

"Welcome, young adventurers," Kapono greeted them in a warm, gravelly voice. "I've been expecting you. Please, have a seat and make yourselves comfortable."

The kids settled around the elder, their eyes filled with curiosity. Valerie spoke up first. "Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Kapono. We've been hearing a lot of stories about the Tiki Monsters, and we'd love to learn more about them from you."

Kapono nodded, his weathered face creasing into a gentle smile. "Ah, yes, the Tiki Monsters. They are a vital part of our Hawaiian heritage, though their true nature is often misunderstood by outsiders."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the group. "You see, the Tiki Monsters, or 'Akua Tiki' as we call them, are not mere legends or folklore. They are the ancient spirits of our ancestors, tasked with protecting the land and its people."

Kip's eyes widened with fascination. "Protecting the land? But we've heard they've been causing trouble and stealing artifacts."

Kapono raised a weathered hand. "Ah, but that is where the misunderstanding lies. The Akua Tiki are not malicious creatures; they are simply trying to fulfill their sacred duty. However, in recent times, their actions have been perceived as disruptive by those who do not understand their ways."

Jason scratched his head, his brow furrowed. "So, what are they trying to protect? And why are they acting up now?"

The elder's gaze grew somber. "The Akua Tiki are guardians of the land, the ocean, and the ancient Hawaiian traditions. They have watched over these sacred places for generations. But now, with the rapid development and influx of tourists, their domain has been threatened. They are simply trying to reclaim what is rightfully theirs."

Lizzy nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I see. It's like they're trying to defend their home and culture from being overrun. No wonder they're causing such a stir."

Kapono smiled approvingly. "Exactly, young one. The Akua Tiki are not villains, but misunderstood protectors. They have been driven to desperate measures to safeguard what they hold dear."

Valerie's brow furrowed as she processed this new information. "So, what can we do to help them? We don't want to fight them, but we also can't let them keep causing chaos in the city."

The elder's eyes twinkled with wisdom. "Ah, that is where your true test lies, young leaders. You must find a way to bridge the gap between the Akua Tiki and the people of Honolulu. Only through understanding and cooperation can harmony be restored."

Kenya piped up, her eyes shining with excitement. "I know! We can throw a big party and invite the Tiki Monsters to come! That way, everyone can get to know each other and be friends!"

Kapono chuckled, his weathered face crinkling with delight. "A wonderful idea, little one. The Akua Tiki are drawn to celebrations and community. If you can create an event that honors their traditions and allows them to feel respected, they may be willing to cease their disruptive behavior."

Valerie's eyes lit up with determination. "Okay, team, you heard the elder. Let's put our heads together and come up with a plan to throw the best Tiki Monster festival Honolulu has ever seen!"

The kids erupted into excited chatter, their minds buzzing with ideas as they prepared to embark on their most important mission yet – to bridge the gap between the Tiki Monsters and the people of Hawaii.

[mebemilena]

Not like we have a date with destiny

You met Layla online and her visits to your store became more regular.

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A/N:

it's been YEARS i don't post anything, just silently reading fanficion around. Gotta relearn how to use Tumblr again. I waited one year to watch Moonknight, always wait for the hype to pass because i know i get hyped too and my poor mind can't really take that. I absolutely loved Layla, that's a fact.

as usual, i'm just trying to exercise my english writing skills. I feel like this was a part of a bigger piece but I can't really develop much. Thank you for reading though. Life's been a bit difficult at times. Lots of anxiety and fear of the future. I wanted to get something light.

i'm starting a series, that's why Sersi is mentioned.

my AO3 link if you'd like to see.

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You met Layla online. She sent a message to the store you worked at looking for a specific book. You attended her on the phone and she went to the bookstore shortly after, paying in cash.

"You're a lifesaver.", she thanked you.

Soon, her visits to the store became more regular. Layla would take her time to read the back of the covers or arrive with a specific request. You became friends over illustrated books though, specially the ones about ancient culture. You told her about your beliefs and about your own culture, finding it amazing when she shared her own story. There was no denying you had a great connection.

"We should go out for drinks.", Layla invited you. "We only meet when you're working or when I need something work related." she'd insist.

It was true. You had never met in other circumstances and knew very little about each other outside duty, except a few things you could notice by yourself. Layla was an interesting woman, she was gentle and polite. Maybe not very social but very friendly anyway. It wasn't hard to slowly fall for her but of course you decided to keep a safe distance. If she didn't like you like that by any chance, you were not up to spoil the friendship you were developing.

"Let's do it tonight then? It's Friday, tomorrow's my Saturday off", you agreed. Was it too soon?

Layla seemed to think for a moment. Almost like she didn't believe it had been so easy. All she had to do was ask. Simple like that. "Okay.", a smile ghosted her lips and she shook her head, as if getting rid of intrusive thoughts. "It's gonna be fun."

Around 6:30pm, when you had closed the store, Layla appeared by the door. She was supposed to text you her location and you'd meet here but she had other plans. "I thought it'd be nice for us to walk there, it's not far from here.", she explained.

Layla was uncaractheristicaly nervous. She was watching her feet as you walked to the bar and you could sense the thick atmosphere. Was she nervous?

"So, i think we could grab something to eat first.", She finally looked at you. "You know, so that we won't get drunk too fast."

You agreed, as easy as it sounds, and suggested a small cantina you liked. You had some pizza and decided to just try their wine, not wanting to leave the cozy place. You drank and ate and talked for hours, leaving only because the owner came talking to you saying it was time for them to close.

Layla walked you home, the cold air sobering you up way too fast. Your night couldn't end better, though you thought that maybe it could. If Layla kissed you goodnight.

You stood by your doorway and bent goodbye and Layla kissed your cheek when you hugged. It happened a few time after that. You went out for drinks or food, hanging out together for log walks, cultural programs and sometimes to watch movies at each other's place.

You were talking about your romantic life when you mentioned the last mess you got involved in. "She was nice and all. Really. We'd go to the museu, to natural parks. We had fun together, i thought we were fine. But then her ex came along and she just disappeared.", you told her, realizing that it didn't really hurt anymore.

Layla listened to you, giving the attention you deserved. There was a hint of something in her eyes and she smiled. "Just like we do? You seem to have a type.", she said, playfull.

You chocked on your drink.

Layla laughed at your antics and gave you a napkin. She kept looking at you, a smile never leaving her face. "I mean, you said she was a Historian, that she worked with museology, and i'm an archeologist. We both like going out for drinks and trying new food, we're both into ancient culture...", she explained.

Your jaw dropped, you were speechless. Layla looked into your eyes and took a big gulp of her wine before dropping the bomb. "We both have a close relationship with our exes, she told you. "I mean, i just got divorced.", her eyes inspected you for the smallest of reactions.

You felt your heart falling on the floor. If she had just gotten a divorce it meant she probably wasn't ready for any romantic bullshit. Part of you was okay with that, because you liked her a lot and were willing to accept what she had to give you. Another aspect she had in common with Sersi.

The other part of you was catching the bitter taste of rejection.

Layla was waiting for you to say something, you knew that. But there were no words for you to use. She seemed to understand the hint and started talking again. "We are friends though. Kinda.", she cleaned her throat. "We work together sometimes.", she explained and noticed you were still silent, which made Layla start to panic. Was it the wrong time? The wrong words?

She took a deep breath. "I don't know where this is going but i'd love for it to continue.", she smiled, almost shy at herself. You nodded and approached her side of the couch way too slowly , kissing the tip of her nose.

Layla relaxed and smiled larger. She placed her hands on your cheeks before kissing you on the lips.

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