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WAHAH I know I haven't posted much but I hope that this new year, this lying manager will finally posts her drafts and give out fics for many to enjoy! ❤️🖤
Without further ado, I hope 2026 would be a pleasant year for all of us!
i was abt to make a Christmas special until i realized that the world of arknights/terra and wuwa/sol-3 don't have Christmas 😭💀 and i became lazy again cuz of the holidays
having wuwa agere thoughts... especially about the troupe of fools...
i mean, come on. the troupe of fools is a collection of people who went something that was undoubtedly traumatizing ("pilgrimage" that wound them up at penitent's end), ranging from little kids to elderly folk. you mean to tell me that none of them sometimes feel a little younger than they are? that none of them are reparenting their inner child?
that none of them would age regress?
nahhh. nah nah nah. buckle up we're gonna talk about troupe of fools age regression dynamics and how that motely crew of found family take care of each other.
GET IN LOSERS, WE'RE GOING COPING!
★ just to start off with; brant regresses. i just! he does! he does, okay? he's good at hiding it but when he isnt acting and being the troupe's captain, he's just... tern, again. lost little seabird, tired and lonely.
★ roccia also regresses, but she loves getting to help take care of regressors. she knows to take time for herself, let herself be young while she's got her youth, but being able to help others always makes her feel more fulfilled.
★ it's commonplace to see adults with stuffed animals, shaking homemade rattles, or in childish outfits in the troupe. everyone has their own unique styles, and it'd be a waste to let some of the props they had to make go to waste! it's helpful anyway - stuffed animals are good comfort items, rattles are fun and can be used to make music on the spot, and who gives a hoot how somebody dresses?
★ some troupe members have echo caregivers that take care of them <3 cuddle wuddles that give big hugs, diggy duggys that will skip around, lottie losts that make great cuddle companions for a day in. fae ignis' that curl around their chosen troupe member affectionately, you name it.
★ brant's echo cg is lario. when he's small and wants to be close to lario, he'll climb up onto lario's head and lay there, sometimes petting him absently, where his headpiece doesn't cover.
★ tina, their soprano? she's an excellent caregiver. really good at singing people to sleep when they're stressed, and her patient (yet fierce) nature makes her a natural protector when someone regresses because of stress or upset, or if they're injured.
★ nado is an age dreamer, and likes writing silly stories to help him feel more connected to his childhood self. he never seems to fully regress, but it's nice to indulge in childish and nostalgic things every so often.
★ familial titles are thrown around pretty freely when it's a little one in the troupe. it's never taken too seriously - brant's papa to some kiddos, big brother to others, but it's just a title. just a way of saying "i trust you to take care of me." they're all family anyway, how they refer to each other as a result doesn't change how they interact.
★ brant is roccia's go-to when she regresses. she loves her big brother, nobody makes her feel quite as safe as he does. she's one of few that brant feeds into the familial titles from. he's always happy to play big-brother-little-sister when his first mate needs a little extra support.
★ bardolino is the troupe's grandpa cg LOL
★ newer troupe members who show signs of regressing are maaaybe doted on a little bit... listen, okay, the regressors and caregivers in the troupe are always excited to welcome a new face into their ranks.
★ flips are highly praised and outright adored in the troupe, btw. flexibility in an improv troupe is something to celebrate! rigid dynamics are pretty scarce, since theyre a big community, so having people who can do both is something that's welcomed and loved and cheered for <3
★ the few older members of the troupe, the ones who knew brant when he was young, before he took up the captain's mantle, are the ones who take care of him most when he regresses. he's their baby, no matter what he says or how long he's been the troupe's captain.
★ the troupe has a tent dedicated to being a safe, quiet space for regressors. it's one of the bigger ones, but carefully designed and decorated to have lots of nooks to hide in and lots of things to do. sewing, painting, writing, books, music...
꒰ . . . sfw + fluff. fem reader. non - sexual nudity. rewritten from an old blog. reader is described with breasts. not really proofread ...
for all of his eloquence and unparalleled intelligence, doctor veritas ratio found himself completely speechless when it came to you. he had mastered logic beyond what most men could even comprehend, dissected mysteries that had stumped hundreds. he wielded his language and vocabulary the way a swordsman wielded his blade.
each word he spoke was chosen with careful precision; they were his instruments for control, persuasion, power. his weapon and his defense. and he was nothing short of a master of them. but yet when he found himself before you all that he knew failed him. he found himself feeling that if he opened his mouth he’d only babble and trip over himself like a mindless school boy with a crush. and that was something that nobody had ever been able to make the great intellect feel before.
the complexities of life, the riddle of the universe, none of those things had ever humbled him the way you did with nothing more than a smile, or a single glance in his direction. you were the one thing in his life that he could not measure, could not describe, could not figure out.
and it infuriated him … but in a way that seemed almost masochistic, he enjoyed the feeling of utter helplessness. he had always held himself up so high, and without even trying you knocked him down to something so small.
god it was a lovely feeling.
and now you were droning on and on about your day, telling him the same mundane routine you went through everyday. and he cared about it – truly, he did – but he had stopped listening a long time ago. how could he pay attention to what you were saying when you looked so ethereal in front of him ? standing in the threshold between the bedroom and its connected bathroom, the warm light leaking through the steam from your shower that still fogged up the small space behind you that made it look like you were the one glowing, wrapped in nothing but a towel.
he didn’t necessarily believe in angels, but he could believe that this was the closest he’d ever get to seeing one.
the book he was reading had been put aside, pages splayed out but their words ignored. there was a shift in your voice, then silence. you had caught him, noticed he wasn’t all the way there. you always saw right through him.
how humiliating … how glorious.
“ veritas ? ”
a sigh escaped his nose as he shifted on the bed, until he sat on the very edge of it, feet planted on the carpet, “ come. ”
it was a simple request, one that he spoke with his hands held out, palms up – like he was offering rather than expecting. and you complied, making your way across the bedroom with careful steps until you stood between where his legs were parted.
he reached up and pulled your hands away from the towel you held over your body, pushing the fabric down. the cotton dropped to the ground bunching around your ankles.
he looked at you for a moment, hands planted on your hips, your skin still warm and wet from your shower. his gaze so scrutinizing it seemed more like he was trying to decipher a foreign text than looking at something so human.
the first one would have been easier for him.
his hands slid up your sides, brushing across your stomach and over your ribcage until they cupped the underside of your breasts, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh as his thumbs brushed over nipples hardened under the cold air in the room.
it made you take in a sharp breath “ what are you doing ? ”
he just made a shush sound, his hands sliding back down to your waist. he bowed his head, resting his forehead against the center of your torso and pressed a kiss above your navel.
“ you’re beautiful ”
that was it ? that felt too small, too insufficient. it was too common of a word to be the right one. yet for all of his intellect, for all of his extensive vocabulary, that was all he could come up with.
there was infuriating about how human it was. he was supposed to be better than that, then just ‘ beautiful ’. but he wasn’t, not now anyways. not with you. a silence pulsed softly between you two — something fragile, and tender, like a heart exposed.
it was terrifying that whatever this was, was completely beyond reason. beyond anything he could study or control. this wasn’t the equations he was used to, this wasn’t the methods, and logic that defined the balance and universe he knew so well. this was not all that he had taken so much pride in.
“ you’ve ruined me ” he whispered against the soft curve of your stomach.
he felt it move as you laughed softly, your hands resting on the crown of his head. “ i hardly believe i’ve ruined you ”
his hum tickled against your skin, his smile against it small but true as time itself. he had no response this time, yet all his unspoken thoughts hung over the both of you, light as air and imposing as constellations. very slowly he’d stop trying to figure this all out. very slowly, doctor veritas ratio – a man who had built his entire existence on knowing and understanding – would simply allow himself to feel.
