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hi

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like for a roan starter i miss them

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hello meow meow

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like for a roan starter i miss them

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i refused 2 reread blood+ for icons but just know short haired saya is very roancore

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“I am trying to be a better person but every first year in this dorm makes it so incredibly difficult.”

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furtwisted​:

“ dormy !! buddy !! ” they call, speeding up to fall into step with the little mouse. no, ollie’s not avoiding their dorm - head, of course not !! they’re just spending time with their pal who just - so - happens to be in a totally different dorm who enjoys hiding away in weird spots, no motivation necessary. “ what’cha been up to ?? ”

@uniquemagics​ / starter time

“Buddy?”  Nobody calls Dormy buddy!  Does Dormy have buddies, Huey aside?  (  probably, probably!  each grain of sugar in the cup, or all the birds, or or or a dead ra ———  )  The small creature spins on their heel, head tipping, curiosity!  They know they’re too strange to like even if they don’t know they know / and they can’t be lonely!  (  literally.  )  Just like sugar cant be lonely.  “Ollie!  Hellowdy!  I was going to teach the hedgehogs how to use swords!  They’ve got shields down pat pat pat already!”

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if i add ruggie on here mind ur business

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@savanaclawed​​ : " some of us aren't just play - actin' royalty, your majesty. " the words are derisive for good measure, leona's green eyes hard. " so you can quit actin' like you get it, vil. " // no you don't get context the dialogue popped into my head devoid of any background <3

You must believe that no one else could possibly understand.

It’s the most important piece of the puzzle; your belief that you are completely and utterly alone.  If you accept that others could understand, that you are not singular, unique in your suffering, then you might then have to accept that you are not special.  Or, worse, that your suffering might not be as horrific as you’ve convinced yourself it is at all.

Vil understands this; of course he does.  His sickness rendered him monstrous, murderous, violent — worse, he tried to kill even before he broke.  His sickness turned him horrible, his sickness that had felt all - isolating but that he can now see was not so unique at all.  

Yet Vil is still Vil.  She is still proud, and strict, and capable of great cruelty.  But she is not evil.  She wasn’t ever, really, just afraid, just aching — enough to do evil things.  So afraid of acknowledging that his pain was not unique / so afraid to be alone / so afraid of being anything less than the best that might enable his suffering to matter — that he was willing to be ugly.

It had been a relief, almost : finally, a chance to be too hideous to love, to cease having to try to earn it.

Vil is still Vil.  And so despite the clarity that has come for them (  but not for him, of course  ) in the wake of their ugliness, they feel first haughty mockery — the empathy comes slow, and Vil nearly doesn’t recognize it.  She looks at her fellow dormhead, expression showing very little.

“I see precious little that is royal in you, Leona.”  And it’s an unkindness but not just that / it had been a relief, almost : finally, a chance to be something other than the limits i was born into / and it’s cruel but it’s not cutting like it might have been once.  Quieter, “In that, we are alike.”

Other things, too — a pain that matters, it does, but hating the wrong people for it / a willingness to do anything to cease being second place, as if being seen is the same as being whole / an ache, bone - deep, that demands both believe that no one could possibly understand.  Things that Vil couldn’t know, too — fathers that love them, an inability let that matter / a youth spent with other’s whispers at your back, seeking to make you into a villain even before there was a choice to be anything else.

They both became the story’s monster.  Vil is trying to be something else.

Again, he says, “—— In that we are alike.”  The words are whispered, eyes lowering, but she still catches sight of Leona’s stiffening shoulders.  She needs not list off the similarities in the sufferings; he wouldn’t listen if she did.

Vil no longer believes that no one else could possible understand.

Vil is still Vil, and Leona is still Leona.  Vil does not want to save Leona, and Leona does not want to be saved.  But this Vil can finally understand : she’s disdained Leona, if one could call it that, because he was much like a mirror.  

Their eyes raise, and theirs are — quiet.  “Your royalty can’t shield you from being just like everyone else.  Your pain isn’t unique.  You’ve just convinced yourself it is.”

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poppicede​:

          Mateo’s no expert in the parenting nor… managing department, but doing the latter more than doing the former doesn’t exactly sit right with him ( but really, which of his students’ personal situations feel “right” exactly? ) Mateo hums in understanding. “That freedom is good, Neige. I’m glad they trust you and give you the right amount of room to do what you’d like. But do they come and see you at all ? Or do you visit them ?” 

The concern radiating of his good - hearted professor feels dangerous; Neige smiles, but he feels more than wills his hands to move behind his back, one hand around his other wrist / a nervous movement, hidden.  It would be easy to lie around this.  But Neige doesn’t want to lie to someone so kind.  “Sometimes!  But I’m busy, and so are they, you know?”  The less they see them, the better.  But he can’t say that / but he doesn’t want to lie anymore than he already is.  “And that’s okay!  It’s better this way.”

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“Um — they’re more like my managers than my parents!”  Oh, wait, no, that sounds bad, too — makes them seem neglectful.  (  there’s no easy way to explain why he so rarely sees his parents, let alone one that doesn’t cast them in a bad light.  but others oughtn’t worry over him.  )  “Not in a bad way!  They’ve just always given me a lot of freedom, that’s all!”

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so it took me a while but i’ve finally gone ahead and committed to at least a vague outline for neige’s backstory — i struggled a lot with the fact that neige has canonically grown up with the dwarves since they were a child and, given the way vil talks about it, seemingly with limited adult supervision.  but!  i think i’ve got something i like.

on the outside, the leblanches seemed like a relatively normal family.  loving parents, cheerful child.  but both parents were — interested more in the material than they were in the emotional.  they were neglectful, and primarily saw their son as a thing to make use of; he became a skilled cook, a skilled housekeeper despite his young age, and was sometimes struck or otherwise harmed for failing to do well.

at the age of six, the child ran away — now, he would describe it as a silly, childish tantrum.  the family lived far from the city, and neige ran into the forest, hoping to remain unfound.  he stumbled alone for some time, but through the guidance of kindly forest animals he was able to find himself a small orphanage.  underfunded and understaffed, it was a nevertheless safe place to be, and none of the staff questioned or prodded very hard when neige wouldn’t tell them his full name, and none looked very hard to see if he might have any.  it became home.

there were only a few other children there — the dwarves and a few others.  the adults were kind enough, but not particularly doting.  (  this was less out of neglect and more simply because they were understaffed — but it is true that they ought to have kept a better eye.  )  as someone who was already skilled with ‘keeping house’ neige naturally fell into a caretaker role, despite being so young himself, and was handling much of the day - to - day care of the building and of the others, especially the dwarves.

at the age of eight, neige was discovered by an agent by chance, and rocketed to stardom — but home always came first.  neige would leave shoots early to care for the others, make sure everyone’s homework got done and the home was cleaned and the others got to bed, but never failed to memorize his lines — he knew well what came of letting grown - ups down.

when he was thirteen, his parents reappeared, claiming to have spent years searching for him — an abject lie.  neige knew, even if they’d never admit it to themself, that they just wanted the money and prestige his fame brought with it.  the dwarves, who knew the story, tried to prevent them from retaking custody, as did the orphanage staff once it became clear that neige didn’t want to go home —— but they were his legal parents, and neige refused to allege abuse that might have gotten their custody stripped.  they agreed to let neige continue living with the dwarves, however, if only to gain the boy’s cooperation — it worked.

they act as pseudo - managers now, though he thankfully rarely sees them.  his real managers aren’t any better, but at least they don’t pretend to be family.  they also get a not - insignificant portion of the money he earns.

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etoila​:

in theory it wasn’t hard being something of a doll.   but in practice … well, it’s no surprise korin would find a way to mess even that up.   ‘   you fuss too much.   ’   every extremity twitching under the scrutiny directed at her.   the urge to rearrange what vil had just fixed is almost too great to ignore.   she keeps her hands still, though — the argument wasn’t worth it.   ‘   it’s fine.  ’   /   @uniquemagics​​​ ,  [  groom  ] 

“When you leave this dorm, you are representing not only yourself, but your dorm and your dorm mates.”  With one final tug at the hem of Korin’s blaze, Vil seems content; though she has no expectation that Korin will allow her hard work to last.  “Even if you don’t respect yourself enough to groom yourself properly, I would think you could show your friends at least that much regard.”

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Tired / Exhausted / Feeling Very Weak - Starters

For worried onlookers

“You don’t look so hot…”

“Are you okay?”

“You need rest.”

“You can’t train, not in that state.”

“Business is over until further notice, your health is more important.”

“Go rest, this isn’t up for debate.”

*my character catches yours mid-stumble* “Whoa, you alright there?”

“You look like a zombie. When was the last time you had proper sleep?”

“You’re shaking. This is really affecting you, at least take a nap.”

“I’m picking you up and taking you to bed, too bad.”

“A small break won’t be good enough, you need actual rest.”

“You shouldn’t of over-exerted yourself.”

“I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

“You could hardly stand!”

“Don’t think I won’t make you go to bed. Try me.”

“Looks like I caught you at a bad time.”

“You’re so stubborn, quit squirming I’m trying to help!”

“Your hands are shaking. You need to stop.”

“You don’t get enough sleep, do you?”

“You’re practically nodding off.”

“Hey, you just passed out. Are you okay?”

“We can nap together, ok? We’ll be nap buddies.”

“I’m crawling under the covers with you, alright? Just rest.”

“You burned your energy out in the snow, you’re shivering badly.”

“This hot weather is affecting you more than you think, you look like you’re gonna pass out.”

For the affected

“I’ll be alright, I just need a small break.”

“You’re overthinking things, I’m fine.”

“You’re too worried, I’m totally okay.”

“Don’t touch me, I don’t need your help.”

“I said I’m fine, let it be.”

“I didn’t think it’d be this cold, my body hurts all over…”

“I might have been in the sun for too long…”

“I’ll get shut-eye when I finish this paper.”

“I’ll rest when I finally get results.”

“I don’t need rest, I could keep training with no problem.”

“I can’t sleep, I’m too anxious.”

“I don’t like when it’s still and quiet, and I’m alone with my own thoughts.”

*you catch my character mid-stumble* “I-I’m alright, I just need to sit a moment…”

“Could you… sleep with me?”

“I could hardly move… maybe I did push myself too hard…”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll sleep in a bit…”

“I’m okay, really…”

“I’m not a kid, I don’t need you hovering over me.”

“Maybe I’m a little tired…”

“You’re the last person I’d want to see me like this.”

“You’re right, I’ll finish what I’m doing later.”

“Okay. I’ll go to bed, thanks for the concern.”

“You want me to rest so bad, why don’t you make me?”

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gingers

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I love characters that are completely harmless until they finally unleash their power and then they’re TERRIFYING

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”ああ、美しきひと。”

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