#But that doesn't matter. It's for a good reason. Even if noone else can see it you can. It has to be for a good reason. It has to be.

[mintytrifecta]

Anyway Parallax is so Rebellion Homura Akemi-coded

[thesherrinfordfacility]

Some of the posts you've reblogged lately have clarified some of my thinking about how Gaiman has reworked the characters from the original text. In the novel, Aziraphale and Crowley have at base the /same/ flaw: they evade thinking about the ramifications of their actions by displacing everything onto their "job" requirements. To which the novel says, no can do. Aziraphale has his moral epiphany at the airfield before Crowley does, but it is by and large the same epiphany. Most of the rhetoric about offloading responsibility goes to Crowley, either directly or in free indirect discourse, but he's also the dominant viewpoint character of the two. For that matter, we are told how Crowley /feels/ about where Aziraphale has led him, morally speaking, but we aren't privy to Aziraphale's interiority during this moment. In a sense, though, that doesn't matter, because there's no reason to believe that the sense of liberation is any different.

In the series, though, Gaiman ramps up the tension in S1 and S2 by splitting up their problems. Crowley still has the "but it's not my FAULT" moral flaw, considerably amplified with even more suspiciously unreliable narration, and he still thinks about his work for "head office" as just that, a job. But Gaiman rewrites Aziraphale so that, as other people have pointed out, he thinks about being an angel as an identity (and being a demon, for that matter). I think you can make a good case that unlike in the novel, in the series neither character fully grasps how the other conceptualizes himself. This is one of the reasons that the novel's moral epiphany doesn't happen in S1, and can't happen in the same way in S3. Crowley nudges Aziraphale as though he were nudging him out of a job, not as though he's nudging him into an entirely different sense of personhood. Aziraphale praises Crowley's goodness because he essentializes it, seeing it as a sign that Crowley's demonself is continuous with his former angelself ("you were an angel once"). In S2e1, we have the very telling dialogue in the coffee shop where Crowley knows all of Aziraphale's "voices," but doesn't understand why it ought to set off fire alarms for him that Aziraphale so needs to report to him for praise. This sits alongside the tension in the Job minisode, in which Crowley is openly disaffected with both Heaven and Hell, but doesn't see the situation in the same existential terms as Aziraphale does. The end result is the S2e6 car crash, in which each character proposes to the other in a way that solves their /own/problem.

LWA i’m guessing that this is you - let’s face it, noone else sends me asks like this - but by some chance that it isn’t, congratulations anon you sound just like them (and now i’m slightly terrified that there might be two of you lurking around my blog).

also - apologies that it took such a long while to come back to you; my original response was approaching half a dozen pages just for aziraphale alone (and i wasn’t done by a long shot), and then i remembered to great disappointment that tumblr isn’t exactly the forum for such a long post (future rhi: haha you played yourself, this is still a mammoth response). at which point, i basically had to rewrite it all over again, condensing it (future rhi: you failed) down into what i’m hoping are my key points. i wish i was joking when i say that you’re currently reading what is probably the fourth or fifth version of this response.

i think where a lot of disconnect happens in how we view aziraphale’s journey throughout both seasons stems from thinking that the concept of being an angel is all-encompassing, instead of potentially also being multiple layers that aziraphale has steadily been shedding throughout the story. personally, i think there are three distinct areas around aziraphale’s identity as an angel; heaven, god, and being good. a lot of these overlap and intertwine with each other, for sure, but i think it's too much to ask of aziraphale, as the audience (and crowley), to be able to abandon it altogether in one fell swoop. being an angel is not the whole of what aziraphale is - this much is evident - but to his mind, it's the core. dismantling that, stepping away from that, and finding who he is might be without the overarching expectation and pressure of being an angel is no doubt terrifying... and potentially we're not giving that struggle enough credit.

to my mind, he disconnects from heaven fairly early on in the narrative, as far back as job, and continues through the ages with a sense of fear - or, at best, trepidation - from them. however, this tenuous allegiance carries through to s1 when it severs entirely with the call to the metatron; i truly do not see any instance after this point chronologically where aziraphale has any fondness or loyalty to heaven as the institution, nor the archangels. he is unique in being an angel that has experienced the fullness of earth and humanity, and this has influenced him fundamentally into being an angel that is so 'other' from his peers that he's by default unrecognisable, almost alien, and is deprecated and dismissed as a result. it's the very first modern scene we see of him in s1 - putting him in direct contrast with gabriel (arguably The angel of abrahamic religion; the one that nearly everyone recognises, and considers to be the epitome of What An Angel Should Be). crowley has similarly influenced him through the ages; he's made aziraphale think outside of the dogma that heaven instils as being the irreproachable, righteous, Good Side - as well as encourage him in his hedonism and self-interest (literally the reason why they both endeavour to stop the apocalypse in the first place) because it is important to aziraphale personally, and he takes pleasure and happiness from it. aziraphale "[keeps] up appearances" for the sake of complying with heaven and not raising suspicion, but is ultimately "an angel who goes along with heaven as far as he can".

aziraphale's relationship with god is little more complicated, but again - i think aziraphale reaches the stage where he is shown time and time again that god chooses to be distant, and not to act or intervene*, which is something aziraphale cannot fully reconcile. as he sees it, hell does bad things (as does heaven, as is demonstrated with the apocalypse), and where you have the power to stop it, you should. equally, if you have the power to do something good, you should do it. he takes literal issue with this in job, where he learns that god is resolutely refusing to intervene in whatever hell is cooking up for job and his family, and he instead chooses to defy this and go to crawly to beseech him to not hurt them (obviously not realising that crawly has reached that page already). he holds out hope that god will do the right thing, but the storm comes from hell, starts early even, and god does not stop it - would not have stopped it, even if the children were above, and not in the cellar.

he cannot reach any other conclusion than crawly must be right, and god in fact wants the children to die. when it comes to the lie, and aziraphale resigning himself to falling for it, i do wonder how he reconciles this after he doesn't fall - my thought currently is that aziraphale believes that god has seen his 'transgression', and chosen clemency - to forgive it - but aziraphale fears she may not do so again. it makes sense that aziraphale then is so resistant to the Arrangement later on, and then why he appears so set on not helping thwart the apocalypse because that would be going against the plan (despite, yk, evidently agreeing with crowley and privately wanting to stop it as much as crowley does). this is once again shattered by the call to the metatron; aziraphale holds out hope that the almighty will fix everything, surely this is the time where they would intervene, job and his family is one thing, but destroy the entirety of their creation? but... god won't even get on the call with him. that to me is, once again, where aziraphale lets go that particular strand of what makes him an angel - as far as i can recall, we see no instances in 2023 where aziraphale declares any outright loyalty to god or to heaven*, even going so far as to initially reject heaven (and god, presumably, by extension) - "i don't believe there's anything left to be said, i've made my position quite clear" - until he is given the opportunity to... fix it? improve it? mend it? restore it? semantics, but "make a difference" plainly recognises that how it currently exists, or how it currently functions, is wrong.

*although, ultimately, this is arguably the only moral solution for god as far as humanity is concerned. an omnipotent and omniscient being should not get involved, nor even a vaguely powerful one (i'll take "free will" for 500, alex).

*i've said it before and i'll say it again; where aziraphale says "but heaven! it's the side of truth, of light, of good", this to me is not aziraphale saying that heaven is itself good. that would be in direct conflict with his willingness to "make a difference". if he thought heaven was perfect as it is, 'making a difference' wouldn't even come into it. to that end, he knows it isn't - and instead i see it that aziraphale thinks these are the qualities that heaven stands for, what it ought to be... not what it currently is.

last thing on god: aziraphale even literally steps into god's shoes in ep5, during the ball - it's all very well, admirable even, that he hosts and crafts the ball to be a curated environment where maggie and nina might realise that they have fallen in love with each other, he thinks he's doing the right thing by intervening... by getting involved. but as you say, the book epiphany hasn't happened for them at the end of s1, not even in s2, and aziraphale hasn't learn the lesson of why "messin' about" might actually be the wrong thing to do. in fucking about with the ball, he completely tampers with the free will of not only the girls, but everyone else. nina reflects this back at him, and it visibly unnerves him that she does so; he is removing free will from all present (or, attempting to in nina's case), but is doing what he considers to be right and ergo what he thinks god should do (in his eyes). he doesn't reach the free will realisation, at least not as far as is evident to the audience, and it is clear that when the issues surrounding playing god are highlighted to him (by both nina and crowley), he chooses to dismiss it. he is doing what he thinks is right, but in doing so is literally demonstrating the shortcomings he has in his faith in god.

but aziraphale and the concept of goodness? ah. this, to me, is still the key part of his identity that he is struggling to let go of. aziraphale by the point of s2 accepts that he is not perfect. the first meaningful scene we see of aziraphale in the post-s1 timeline is his interaction with maggie; he forgives the rent, does a kind and compassionate thing, but very readily recognises that he did it for his own self-interested motivations and prioritising himself first (so far as to look uncomfortable when thanked for it by maggie, and referred to as an “angel” as a result - aziraphale knows that his motivation was not angelic at all). a ‘younger’ aziraphale, i do not think, would have so openly admitted to this, and instead would have laboured it as a purely selfless, kind, and benevolent thing on his part... and it would have taken crowley probing further to get it out of him that he did it out of self-interest. this doesn’t preclude that aziraphale was being kind to maggie - kindness is in the perception, not the intention (imo) - but he accepts his shortcomings as far as being an angel is concerned, and the freedom of breaking away from heaven grants him the freedom to do so. but contrast this with his taking-in of gabriel. aziraphale is not stupid, and is evidently frightened, anxious, and suspicious of him turning up at the bookshop, but what becomes clear to him is that this is genuinely someone under threat, in trouble, and lost; yes, he gets frustrated with the situation, but he offers gabriel/jim sanctuary, and is set in this decision before crowley even enters the picture. he makes the clear assessment that the wanker-that-is-gabriel is not the being sat before him, and instead chooses the route of kindness.

aziraphale is not always a good person, and there are multiple instances where this is proven, but there are equally just as many instances that show that he is - and i think he accepts that he is someone that is a mixture of both. that being said, this is still something that he is self-conscious about (if shax's jibes at him in ep6 is anything to go by), but it stems more from a place of aziraphale feeling that he is not enough for heaven, or for god - that even, perhaps, he doesn't deserve to be an angel; i don't think it's out of place to say you can accept the traits that make it so you do not fit in (and in fact be glad that you do not), and yet still feel ashamed and anguished that you have been rejected for the same. there is a case to be made that this in part may be why he accepts the metatron's offer to return to heaven and run it - that it's an offer from the voice of god himself, in acceptance of who aziraphale currently is - but i do wonder how far aziraphale believes this.

now is finally time to start bridging the gap to crowley, because it is clear that being good is paramount to aziraphale. however, the issue is that the sense of being good is paramount, and he still conflates it with what is right. crowley is not to blame for this, but he is undoubtedly a guiding principle in how aziraphale develops this sense; crowley constantly challenges aziraphale on his rigid, often deontological mindset of "the action must be good for it to be the right thing", and instead makes him consider the wider, consequentialist picture; that sometimes, "the action might be a bad thing, but if it results in a good thing, that is the right thing". he reaches, therefore, the conclusion that if crowley ends up doing the right thing, he therefore must be good - and ignores all of the events, all of crowley's behaviour, that point to the contrary. hell, he even ignores all of crowley's own protestations to the contrary. as you say, aziraphale essentialises it.

maybe aziraphale does think that crowley is, at his core, the same person he was as an angel, but... personally, idk how far i currently interpret this to be the case (my thoughts are more along the lines of 'crowley is, regardless of being an angel or a demon, a good person, and that's what counts', but maybe i'm optimistically giving aziraphale more credit than is due). in any case, upon reflection, aziraphale has not learnt from the 'shades of grey' argument... not in relation to crowley. sure, i think aziraphale accepts that he himself is a light shade of grey, but crowley? i don't think he fully comprehends that that same school of thought must apply to crowley too - crowley is not a wholly good person, but arguably is an often dark one who sometimes chooses to do good things/knows when not to cross the line - and therefore lands on the expectation that crowley would return to heaven with him to do good - because that's the right thing for a good person to do. aziraphale has turned to crowley, and holds him to the same ideal to which he previously held in heaven, and arguably in god. these are entities that aziraphale thinks ought to stand, and perhaps originally stood, for "truth, light, and good", and when that went down the shitter in reality, aziraphale has turned to his own reality and found crowley instead. the faith - and comfort that it brings - had to go somewhere. that is not a responsibility crowley should shoulder, under any circumstance, but in not recognising that aziraphale is doing it, aziraphale hasn't been dissuaded from it either.

but hey, let's finally discuss crowley (and if you're still reading... incredible). look, i've made no secret of my... criticism? of crowley, and to reiterate not only what you said in your ask, but also what we've discussed at length; crowley is not a reliable narrator. this, regrettably, makes me reconsider accepting what are posed as core principles of crowley's character. he does not give a consistent account of the fall; whilst what he does say may be, at best, piecemeal snapshots of the events that led to his fall and, at worst, be completely false altogether, the conclusion is the same - there is something missing, and i'd wager that it is something that he doesn't want to admit, confront, and/or reconcile with. add this to his reluctance, or outright refusal, to accept accountability for his actions on a number of occasions, as well as his tendency to skirt around or fudge the truth, and i naturally do not default to taking his word as gospel; that's not to say that i think he has a nefarious, hidden agenda hiding away (obviously not), or is an entirely reprehensible character, but from an audience perspective i think if we're to anticipate some Major Revelations in s3, this is a key place to start.

one quote, from s1, that sticks out to me is, "crowley was all in favour of armageddon in general terms, but it was one thing to bring it about, and another for it to actually happen." this literally is the summary, for me, of all of crowley's ouroboros/boomerang/"this will no doubt come back around to bite me on the ass" characterisation. if i (contrivedly) rephrase this, it reads to me as 'i'm not that bothered about the end of the world and humanity in theory, and happy to add in bits and pieces that would make it happen, but i will have an issue as soon as we start gearing up to press the big red button'. as such, i think we have to contend with the fact that crowley may not be as moral as has been widely accepted. maybe i'm assuming too much, but if you were truly of moral standing, presumably even the notion of setting out plans to destroy the earth would be a big no-no, if you are in fact against the apocalyse because it would mean the destruction of humanity. but of course, this would presume that crowley has any way in which he can viably refuse (which, he doesn't) - to which end, therein lies the dichotomy of the nuremberg argument. is it an immoral action when you don't have the room to consider the moral option? regardless, does that absolve you of consequence?

this would also, presumably, be at odds with AWCW's objections to armageddon as put to us in the pre-fall scene, right? so, to me, the conclusion i reach is this; first, that AWCW obviously does not want the stars, the universe, to disintegrate as a mere bookmark in the wider 'great plan', but this does not come from an altruistic viewpoint; it comes from a more selfish one. and that's totally fair - i probably too would have issues with spending my entire (and at this time, 'entire' is unquantified) existence building and creating, only to see all of my work go down the drain as if it's nothing. but - i do not see it as him having any ulterior, selfless consideration for humanity. second, crowley likes earth, but for the convenient and clever things that exists because of - and in concurrence with - humanity. the reasoning he gives to aziraphale for stopping the apocalypse is just as true for him as it is for aziraphale. there is the line of "you said you would be testing them, but you shouldn't test them to destruction...", an echo of his sentiment at the flood, that gives weight to crowley privately wanting to stop armageddon for humanity's sake. i agree with this assessment on the whole; that crowley holds it as an equally strong and valid reason for thwarting it. but i think it is also fair to at least suggest that this reasoning may also stem from crowley's own personal feelings about the fall - a group of angels that were, presumably, tested to the point of their own destruction - and how god, in his eyes, perhaps should have learnt from that event before planning to do the same to her Ultimate Creation. this, for me, is a little more in line with his characterisation as has been presented so far. 

but then again, crawly seems to be acting selflessly in the job minisode. i, once again, am largely inclined to agree... but for the sake of exploration, i do wonder how far it's entirely selfless, or altruistic, and instead how far it's a projection of thwarting god in the sense of rectifying his own punishment. a case of 'i went through this and it's shit, humanity doesn't deserve the same thing the same thing to happen to them', vs. 'i went through this and it's shit, and now she's up to the same old bollocks because she's awful, so im going to thwart it as a big fuck you to god'. maybe there is no real distinction, or maybe it's a bit of both at the same time, but the former would more strongly suggest to me that, looking at the parallel between job and the fall, crowley was the entirely innocent party in his fall just as humanity is/was, which i don't personally buy. 1827 and preventing elspeth's suicide is a little closer to the mark where selflessness is concerned; "you have sinned very bigly - trying to kill yourself?! it's not on!" strikes me that crowley is now acting out of the interest of keeping elspeth out of hell, where it is pretty clear Bad Things occur. there are other clear instances of good too* - he gets the humans out of bookshop in ep5 and brings back mr brown from hell, he treats jim with kindness once he establishes for his own peace of mind that he's not a threat, and he protects maggie from being accosted by demons (and this is not to mention how he, on the whole, treats aziraphale). suffice to say, crowley is clearly capable of selflessness, and doing both the good and right thing, but i do think that he doesn't necessarily act with selflessness and goodness as his default motivation. there are enough instances to suggest that he isn't a completely moral character.

*now that im thinking about it, it seems that it's largely when the threat of hell specifically looms that crowley is at his most selfless..? hmm.

crowley does centre around the thinking that being an angel/demon as like a job - and tbf to him, it's not an overly out-there conclusion to arrive at. heaven and hell are presented as corporations and they're referred to as "head office", he is given a workload and told to report back, he stretches the truth about what work he is personally responsible for in those reports, and crowley describes himself as a 'former demon' (as if he ever stopped being one - even as a fact of being, he is a demon). so yeah - to him, it is a job. and as you say, he assumes that aziraphale sees it the exact same way which, clearly, he doesn't. crowley states that he never asked to be a demon which may well be true, but it's equally possible that he was given the option to step away from heaven and god, and took it (not knowing that becoming a demon would be the result), to my mind, it's almost like he got sacked from a start-up because he didn't like the direction the company was going and Had Things To Say/actively resisted and denounced it, and then was forced to work in a - in multiple ways - a worse work environment. it's an understatement to say that he's under no illusions that hell is awful, and he too "goes along with [them] as far as he can". however, i'm not entirely sure that we have reached where crowley has his "as far he can" moment like aziraphale has - the fact that he says to aziraphale he said no to hell, when he absolutely didn't, rings alarm bells. 

as explained above, aziraphale doesn't see it in this way at all; what i think crowley finds difficult to understand is that aziraphale's experience of being an angel is very much different to crowley's. aziraphale has existed for millennia on earth as an angel, and aziraphale’s purpose and meaning is wrapped up in being an angel, in everything that it entails, and specifically being an angel that has walked amongst humanity. just as aziraphale is never fully able to empathise with crowley’s position as a demon, and all that occurred to get him there, crowley is just as unlikely to fully empathise with the importance aziraphale places on his own angelhood. in comparison to crowley's situation in being sacked from a start-up, a hypothetical fall for aziraphale would be like being sacked from a business that, whilst you may not agree with them in the majority, has provided you with a career that is the only thing you know how to do, continues to pay for your home and benefits, and without it would leave you stripped of any purpose and meaning, and no idea on what it makes you/where it leaves you without it. and even then this doesn't really scratch the surface - again, aziraphale doesn't see being an angel as being a job.

the final fifteen is where all this comes to the surface. when the two of them individually have their backs against the wall, with no discernible way out, they have very different responses. aziraphale fights, and crowley flees. heaven is a seemingly insurmountable problem that stands in the way of them being left alone (and being together). aziraphale's response is to try to change it, to fight. crowley's response is instead to flee the situation entirely. this is the same with armageddon - another seemingly insurmountable problem - where aziraphale's response is to go above everyone's heads and dial 9-9-god, and crowley's response is to flee. neither of these responses are wrong, both are completely valid, and i genuinely think it is equally possible to see the situation from their individual perspectives. but neither of them understand the other's. aziraphale, who sees crowley as a good person who will do the right thing, doesn't understand why crowley won't fight with him, won't do (as he sees it) the right thing in making heaven what it always should have been, and is instead choosing to flee. crowley, who sees aziraphale as someone who like him as quit his job and wants nothing more to do with either of their former bosses, doesn't understand why aziraphale is choosing to fight, won't prioritise them, and won't go off with him. once again, both are equally valid thought processes to have, but are borne out of being rather significantly off the mark in understanding the other, and instead thinking that the other will act in accordance to what they individually believe the other to be.

[lyss-sketchbox]

OKAY BUT unless I'm understanding it wrong- The FIRST Pyro Archon was human. They said that. That the Pyro Archon has always been a human and there's been like a ton of them. Natlan never had any gods to claim the divine throne in the first place. Which is SO incredibly suspicious sounding and if that's never elaborated upon/refuted boy I'm going to RIOT-

But yea on Ei I kinda fantasized about an alternate Act I for Ei's SQ where she asks to spar again because mmm battle as her way of communicating sounds very on brand for her. Because I feel like that's what should shake her faith. LITERALLY I love characters that are defined by their life as a glorified weapon (stares at my love for childe) it's just squandered on Ei for some reason.

If they're going to use Ei for goofy things they could at least take my idea and have her lose to Itto in beetle fight in public in front of all of Ei's followers/worshippers (/j) (/srs) (it would be hilarious)

But yeah no you're right about all of that stuff being kinda whack. The execution of Natlan feels all wrong. Like!! The pieces are there!! It could work!! They're just treating everything so flippantly that it's just. Eh. Okay. What's the point of anything then- Like I never felt like Natlan had to be a wartorn battlefield of a nation, I just want them to actually act like any of this actually matters! Bc atm it doesn't feel that way at all

Yeah ngl the issue is just you literally dont feel amy stakes with natlan at all. I literally feel like a tourist that got roped into a find a mcguffin or the world ends adventure.

About Mavuika

Fr i dont even know what is up with Natlans archon. Its all so convoluted but mavuika is featured in that one archons official art so she is... the 'correct' archon in some way?????

She IS human, we see she has a picture of her family, but it is from the past. She was elected the archon in the past. Died. And now she has been resurrected to take the role again. Why her? Shes just human. Why did she get resurrected again if the nations archon switches constantly? Like what is the point of constantly changing archons if one can just be... resurrected to take the title again.

I have a feeling, based on leaks and the natlan trailer, that the 'archon' of natlan isnt a real archon. Not a real godly being with a hold of the divine throne. I have a feeling that there is a seperate being that is the true pyro archon, can be an actual archon or maybe the wayob, who set up this human archon system. Like mavuika, the human archon, is not the highest power here and something else is in charge. Can be the pyro sovereign who knows that would be cool, it was mentioned that the pyro sovereign ruled ancient natlan before the archons.

About Ei

I remember the one part in Ei's SQ where we went to confront a corrupted group of shogunate officials and these two people were fighting. And Ei simply suggests that the head of the clan in the past has proven their worthiness by combat and therefore if one wishes to be head of the clan, they can challenge her and proof to her they are worthy. And the guy we were rooting for, while he had no advanced skills, stood up, tried to fight her, and lost.

I LIKE THAT ALOT!!! That is Ei's way of settling conflict! It is backed up by how it was done in the past! And she clearly knew noone was winning and only fought with the blunt end of her spear. She knew! And she only suggested this to show who really had the will and the resolve to hold that title. I LIKE THAT!!! ME LIKEY THAT WAS REALLY GOOD!!!!

[asykriel]

Love is the Death of Duty - 5.

® do not repost or translate !

☆ Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Male! Targaryen OC

☆ Status: Ongoing 

☆ Summary:  

“He is half of my heart.”

War made monsters of them all, but it also brought the two second sons together in a flurry of death, love, deceit and delusion. The story of Aemond Targaryen and the eldest son of Daemon and Rhaenyra, Maegor Targaryen, second of his name. 

☆ Warnings: Sexual content, explicit violence, dark themes, targcest etc.

☆ AO3 ☆ || ☆ Wattpad ☆

☆ CHAPTERS: (Prologue) / ( 1 ) / ( 2 ) / ( 3 ) / ( 4 ) / ( 5 ) / ( 6 ) / ( 7 ) / ( 8 ) / ( 9 ) / ( 10 ) / ( 11 ) / ( 12 ) / ( 13 ) / ( 14 ) / ( 15 ) / (16 from now on upcoming chaps only on-  AO3  ||  Wattpad  )

☆ Masterlist ☆ ||  ☆ Spotify Playlist ☆

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Chapter 5

Hours went by quickly until noon turned into evening and dark was settling in.

Maegor spent every bit of the scarce time he had left in Aemond's company, just basking in each other's presence after they briefly quenched their thirst for one another in the morning. It was an eye opening experience that made Maegor see stars but it was not what he enjoyed most. Hearing Aemond confess his mutual feelings was the real climax for him.

Throughout the day, the two young Princes talked a lot, told tales, reminisced about their childhood together - the good and the bad - and confessed their yearning for each other over and over like an oath meant to ease every little doubt. A sworn oath written in unspilled blood. Aemond even read his nephew from some of his favorite philosophy and history books, sharing his own knowledge about dragons and telling him his favorite things about Vhagar.

The fire was even hotter than before now, but it was a different kind. The kind that gave Maegor confidence and power, put his nerves and anxiety at ease because Aemond wanted him as much as he wanted Aemond. And Maegor would not let anyone intervene in this matter, not even his own father or the Queen herself.

"I will fly with Vhagar to see you. I can take you away even for a short while." Aemond promises, kissing the knuckles of his nephew's hand after they both freshened up to look proper again.

"No uncle, I made you a promise. I will fly to you. As a dragonrider myself." Maegor shakes his head, trying to be firm but he can feel his stomach turn to knots again seeing the older Prince perform such a tender gesture on him again. It was a bittersweet feeling although, because he knew he had to leave soon.

Aemond simply smirks with his lips still on Maegor's hand when he feels his nephew staring holes through his skull. Teasing him like this was something neither of them would ever get bored of or end up disliking.

The gods must have blessed Maegor for allowing him to see and experience such a side of Aemond that no one else, not even his family got to see. The One Eyed Prince was anything but soft or tender in the public, he was cold, twisted and quick to anger and both commonfolk and nobles were afraid of him. For good reason. But with him, in private, Maegor got to see the vulnerable side of Aemond, the Aemond that let his guard down, the Aemond that was traumatized as a child and he was learning how to trust again. It felt forbidden for him to even be a witness to this let alone an accomplice.

"It's nearly time my little Prince, best not to anger your father again." Aemond reminds him and the sorrowful tone in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by Maegor's ears.

The younger Prince simply sighs and nods reluctantly. The more he tried to speak now the tighter the knot in his throat would get and his heart heavier. 

They head together towards the door to Aemond's chamber, the older Prince lets his nephew lead the way but stops abruptly when Maegor turns on his heels to face him, surprising him.

"Will you wait for me, uncle?" Maegor cups Aemond's face with both of his hands and ask. The older Prince is startled briefly before he almost leans in into the kind of tender touch that he has been starved off all his life.

"Of course." Aemond says with every bit of sincerity.

"Daor gaomon skorkydoso bōsa mazēza?" Maegor's voice cracks briefly but he keeps his head unbowed.

"Nyke kivio, Maegor." Aemond mirrors his nephew's gesture, catching his face in his hands and planting a chaste kiss on his lips, sealing the oath.

They exit the older Prince's chamber and make their way to the beach where a ship and the Blacks' dragons awaited. There was a cloud dark cloud hanging and reality was starting to creep onto both of them. 

Aemond cannot help but feel uneasy and anxious as well. He had an ominous feeling in his gut that he could not explain.

Future was something neither of them had control over and it was gnawing at their sanity. They were both young and inexperienced, Maegor even more than Aemond as he was 4 years younger than his uncle. Despite the age difference, the younger Prince seemed to be much more mature than his older brother, Jace or even Aegon. But then again, it was hard to be as immature as Alicent's eldest child when all Aegon wanted was to drink or fuck himself to death.

Outside, servants were making the final departure preparations. Both families were gathered already, including Viserys looking more poorly than he did last evening at the dinner. But the King insisted he wanted to bid his farewells in person to his daughter, brother and nephews, like always giving little regard of how obvious his favoritism was at the cost of giving any attention to his own children.

Aemond and Maegor appear, later than everyone. Even later than Aegon who normally was late to everything because he was too drunk to deal with the passing of time. This was highly unusual because the two young Princes were always the most punctual out of all children. Maegor could already feel the storm that was coming from his father's side from the moment he felt his gaze on him. Daemon was cunning, of course he could tell what was going on.

All heads turn to them with wide eyes until they rejoin their families sides. Unlike the act that was put up last night at the dinner that everyone was breaking bread together peacefully, the two Princes genuinely look like they are getting along well even with all that unfolded at the dinner, much to the displeasure of some of their family members. 

"Where were you all day, brother?" Jace questions in a demanding tone more in a whisper than anything. He could tell Jacaerys was being bitter about Maegor showing up with Aemond after what chaos he unfolded at the feast.

I could ask you the same thing when I found the room empty in the morning.

"I was bidding my farewells, like father told me to." Maegor scoffs but he cautiously eyes Daemon when he mentions him. The Rogue Prince looks at his boots and smirks in return but it was a dangerous smirk, his son could tell. Maegor could not help but let the rebellious nature seep into him and get a little payback for this morning, the temptation to poke at the fire was too big but he had to control himself. There was no need to fuel the spite of his father even more so now. Daemon should have known best however, Maegor was his son after all. Defiance and rebellion ran through the both of them. When they wanted something, they needed to have it no matter the cost.

"Huh? To whom?" Luke butts in and he swears he saw Aemond's violet eye narrow slightly at him as a warning.

"To whoever had ears. In this case Prince Aemond gladly listened to them."  Maegor states not as silent as his brothers, with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Maegor's half brothers were looking at him completely dumbfounded and almost betrayed. Aegon was eyeing Aemond like he just threw out his last bottle of wine and Otto Hightower is as disapproving as ever, highly suspicious and probably already brewing more plots to poison the King's mind further.

Rhaenyra gives Maegor a suspicious look but part of her was glad that at least one of her children seemed to be on good terms with one of Alicent's children, be it that she did not know how good were those terms. His mother wants to give Aemond the benefit of doubt for last night incident, at least for now. The Queen seemed to share the sentiment but the look on her face was more hesitant. She knew best how Aemond really was and some would say she was even afraid of him at times.

However, out of everyone present it is Daemon who looks absolutely outraged and he makes little effort to hide the scornful expression on his face when he seeks out to stare down Aemond directly. Boldly, the One Eyed Prince holds his glare with his head up high. Daemon knows, might as well let him know that he does not fear him and that he refuses to let go of his son.

However, the last thing Maegor wants is his father making Aemond his number one target. It's not like he doubted the older Prince's combat skills but he also knows how Daemon was, he holds grudges forever. If Daemon wants you dead you will die one way or another, be it by his hand, his dragon or his assassinations. Decades of training and years of wars fought made him the most skilled warrior in Westeros, the extensive scars on his body were the best proof of that. And neither fair fight nor honor brought Daemon that title, Aemond or anyone else would stand little chance of besting the Rogue Prince in a one man duel. 

"It saddens me to see you go so swiftly. You must visit again soon." Viserys says painfully from the armchair he was transported in as he cannot find the strength to stand let alone walk anymore. His grandfather was one step in the grave, Maegor and anyone else knew this.

It's enough to make Daemon switch his attention from Aemond to his brother. Maegor looks at his uncle with a fleeting gaze, instinctively checking to make sure he was alright. Immediately Aemond's violet gaze softens when they make eye contact and he gives him an unseen smile. But Maegor registers it and his heart skips a beat. Staying at Dragonstone will be an impossible task with or without dragon.

After a few more brief exchanges between the King and his daughter and brother, it was time to depart. Jace, Luke and Joffrey look the most relieved and excited to finally get out of this place, making their way swiftly to Vermax, Arrax and Tyraxes who await as eagerly as their riders were. Maegor didn't like King's Landing either, preferring rougher and wilder areas like his home in  Dragonstone, but he likes Aemond. His mouth feels bitter and his fingers twitch looking at his half brother's dragons. Maegor was going to fulfill his promise. One way or another. No matter the risks. 

"My Prince Maegor, I look forward to sparring together again someday soon." Aemond's voice makes Maegor's head immediately turn. A secret reminder, known only by them that the older Prince will wait for his return for as long as it takes. 

"A promise is a promise, uncle." Maegor bows his head slightly in courtesy trying to maintain his unbothered facade while his entire body was on fire and his stomach upside down. He has to leave soon or else he might say or do something reckless in front of his whole extended family.

The king gives a nod of approval towards Aemond, for the first time seemingly giving his own child the bare minimum of pride. Truth be told the thought of at least one of his children getting along with one of his daughter's children after so many years of unwanted pranks and incidents, eased the pain in his feeble body. 

Daemon scoffs loudly in annoyance, not even looking back anymore as he makes his way down to the beach where Caraxes was waiting impatiently for him. The Rogue Prince is the first to take flight on the back of his capricious Blood Wyrm followed closely by his step sons on their own dragons.

It was their sign to leave and as Maegor, reluctantly follows his mother, making his way down to the beach, suddenly a foreign tug on the sleeve of his tunic urges him to turn swiftly to face the person. He yanks his arm away instinctively at the potential threat. It was Helaena.

"The devourer of its own kin awaits for you in the depths of darkness." She quickly tells Maegor before Alicent runs after her to pull her back to her side, scolding her briefly before checking to see if she has been harmed. 

The young Prince blinks twice in surprise. He does not understand what she means and her words quickly get scattered and lost in his mind that is filled with other thoughts instead. Thoughts of Aemond especially, who threw him a clueless look from behind Alicent as well. However, Maegor could feel Aegon glaring at him with burning jealousy from his brother's side.

The young Prince is finally forced to board the ship since he is the only dragonless Targaryen left, along with his mother who had to leave Syrax on Dragonstone so that she could care for her youngest children, Aegon III and Viserys II. Rhaena and Baela join them on the ship as well to aid Rhaenyra with the children and whatever else she might need and they soon set off to voyage.

The women head inside the cabin while Maegor stays on the deck with the crew,  gripping onto the railing on the stern of the ship as it slowly raises anchor. He feels nauseous and it was not due to sea sickness.

Aemond is the only one left on the beach, staring back at Maegor with a bittersweet expression. They wave to each other reluctantly and maintain eye contact until the One Eyed Prince remains only a distant silhouette standing on the sand like a statue.

I already miss him..

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The trip back to Dragonstone lasted only 3 days with steady sailing but to Maegor it felt like 3 weeks. Now the true sea sickness was getting to him, he was made for the skies not the oceans.  When he set foot on solid ground at last he wanted to thank the gods but changed his mind quickly when he saw Daemon await like an eager hound on the beach, having arrived days earlier on dragon back with his half brothers. Surprisingly his father ignored him, greeting his mother and half sisters instead. 

They make eye contact briefly but Maegor quickly avoids his gaze and lowers his head, trying to make himself look small as he heads quickly towards the castle. His whole body is tensed until he reaches the comfort and privacy of his own chambers and sighs loudly. The recent week has taken a toll on his body and his psyche especially. 

Maegor orders a hot bath to be drawn in his chamber and lets his tired muscles get soothed in the water until it gets too cold and he is forced to come out, drying himself hastily and changing into his nightwear. Maegor lowers himself into his bed, groaning softly and sleep quickly envelops him. A dreamless slumber awaits him, however his mind could not help but recall Helaena's words. Something about them called to him but the Prince was frustrated that he could not understand the true meaning behind them.

The next day Maegor wakes up late in the evening, having slept throughout the whole day for the first time. A dull headache making him drowsy when he gets up. Rubbing his temples he dresses up in fresh garments and opens the window facing towards the beach to look at the sunset. The cold breeze soothes him and he closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling the salty scent deeply until the familiar sound of wings flapping and laughter fills his ears and he scoffs in annoyance. Maegor's three half brothers were racing on dragonback making rounds around the castle as usually. Envy was biting as his heart again. It was going to drive him mad one day.

With a loud thud he slams the windows shut again and exits his room in search for food and perhaps a new book to keep him company for the night. After he eats a thorough meal, the young Prince heads over to the library, inspecting the hallways for any sign of his father. The last thing he needed now was dealing with the Rogue Prince's punishment and more of his cruel talks. The headache was enough punishment.

Maegor almost sighs in relief when he enters the massive library, closing the door behind him, and finds it empty. He starts searching for a book with no particular subject in mind until he finds one about Targaryen Dreamers and decides on it. Superstitions and prophecies never seemed to have an influence on him, thanks to his father who absolutely despised them and made sure to drill it into his sons minds as well. However, that didn't mean Maegor could not read about anything and everything. For a little while he contemplates if he should read here or back in his room until he settles in an armchair and begins to flip through the pages quite absent minded until he comes across about a certain part which peaks his interest immediately.

Daenys the Dreamer, daughter of Aenar Targaryen. She had visions throughout her life, one of them being a prophetic dream that showed the destruction of Valyria by fire.

The more Maegor read he could not help but think back at Helaena and just wonder if there was any possibility that she could be a dreamer herself. In that case her words only irked at the young Prince's curiosity further. However, he remained a skeptic. Mere words written in a book were not palpable, he needed to see it happen with his own eyes to believe and Helaena's words only confused him. First Maegor needed to understand the meaning before he could even attempt to believe in anything.

Rhaenyra often told him the tale about the Song of Ice and Fire as it was told to her by her father ever since Maegor was a small child but as he grew older he began to disregard it as only a bedtime story.

Suddenly the door flings open, interrupting his reading and Maegor jumps on his feet on high alert, dropping the book on the floor in the process. It was his father.

The young Prince quickly bows respectfully without saying a word and tries to exit the library without even bothering fetching the book anymore, but Daemon stops him. He blocks his way with his imposing presence and herds him back to his initial place, closing the door behind.

"I thought I have been reasonable enough with you, boy." Daemon warns in a surprisingly calm tone. It was deceitful. A trap meant to lure him in.

"Do tell me father what exactly was reasonable about you?" Maegor's temper suddenly become hot and he bites back with no hesitation, regardless of the repercussions. He was tired, irritated and already angered enough by his father's decision days earlier. This was not a childish tantrum he was throwing and he was sick of his father treating it like so. It was a honest wish from the core of his heart.

"That I have not locked you up in your chambers or a dungeon for the rest of your days. Watch your tongue with me." Daemon's illusory calmness fades quickly as his own temper begins to rise.

"You did everything you pleased when you were my age and younger and now you have to treat me like a prisoner? What was it that you always said? Ah yes, duty does not stop us from doing whatever the fuck we want." The young Prince chuckles bitterly in his father's face which only angers Daemon further. In the Rogue Prince's eyes he will always be a child who knew nothing of the world even if Daemon was his mentor. And when it came to this subject, for him, Maegor was nothing more than an insolent brat. 

"This is the last warning I am giving you. Unlike him, you have both eyes but you are blind, boy. The Greens want to usurp your mother's throne while my brother is on his deathbed and you think only about laying with that Hightower mongrel." Daemon seethes, beyond exasperated with his son's tantrum. The emphasis on mongrel hits deep like a dagger on Maegor's nerves. He could almost taste the anger on his tongue.

"Prince Aemond is as much of a dragon as we are! If you want to talk about mongrels, father, let us talk about your step sons instead." Maegor barely has time to finish his reproach as Daemon's hand darts out to painfully grab his chin, tilting his head up roughly so that Maegor can look at him straight in the eyes.

"One more word." Daemon warns. And it's not just a sole warning this time, he either bites back his tongue to silence or endures whatever cruel punishment Daemon thought of this time.  Maegor chooses silence this time but the defiant glare he holds is as sharp and deadly as his Nightbringer.

The legitimacy of Rhaenyra's dark haired sons was very well known in their family for as long as he could remember, but they pretended to close an eye as they were family and family meant protecting one another in front of everyone who might contest them. Maegor was firm and faithful to that duty but still, could not help to feel the envy poisoning his mind whenever he heard about what they would inherit or when he saw them fly out their dragons while he was stuck to watch them on foot or horseback. The thirst for power was a dangerous matter, it made people go mad in the quest for more. For a Targaryen it was deadly and he was no different.

"Forget that One Eyed cunt for you own good, you brat. Otherwise this childish whim of yours will not end like you want it to end for either of you nor our families." Daemon spits hurtful words meant to wake Maegor up to reality and squeezes his son's face harder to make himself properly heard. Maegor grimaces but the rebellious fire he holds in his eyes is ever scorching this only further angers his father.

 "Let it end however it may end. I will never give up on him." The young Prince smiles smugly and slaps his father's hand away, yanking himself from his grip. 

Daemon's temper snaps immediately and the back of his hand comes in contact with Maegor's face with a loud smack. Maegor staggers back from the force of the impact, almost tripping and falling in the process if it weren't for the armchair behind him to prevent that from happening. 

He looks back at his father in shock, touching the new cut on his lip that started seeping blood. For the first time outside of their usual training sessions Daemon purposely hit him. Maegor felt the sting of betrayal ten times more painful than the hit itself.

"Fool, you do not even have a dragon. If you want to swim all the way back to King's Landing be my guest." Daemon laughs crudely. He was done playing nicely. Even dragons had to be disciplined with a firm hand if they did not wish to obey.

"I am as much of a fucking dragon even without one!" Maegor yells back at Daemon louder than he intended, his voice echoes inside the library and carries out into the hallways. Surely someone else must have heard him but he could not care less. All he wanted to do was get away.

The young Prince suddenly darts by Daemon but his father does not stop him this time, he does not even look back at him. Instead of going straight to his room, Maegor heads out of the castle to cool his head in the cold air, fetching a torch off the wall before exiting the keep.

Hours passed and night found Maegor walking aimlessly along the shore, further away from the castle than he ever been before. The sea breeze got unexpectedly cold the darker it got and with it an, eerie mist was starting to envelop the island's shore.

The young Prince soon finds himself barely able to see anything through the thick fog. He stops abruptly and tries to make up the distant outline of the Dragonstone keep to no avail. If it weren't for the torch he had the wisdom to take, he would have wandered blindly in the fog and darkness.

"Fucking great." He curses under his breath and decides to stubbornly carry onwards instead of going back and try to find the way home. Maegor wanted to be alone, truly alone and away from anyone so that he could calm himself and clear his mind. Returning to the castle now meant receiving more of Daemon's scolding or having to deal with his brothers being too prying. Either of them would make him furious.

Neither darkness nor bad weather scared him, night terrors were just bedtime stories meant to scare children. However he could not help but let his mind stray back to the book the more ominous the atmosphere became.

Several more hours have passed, it must have been past midnight by now and the mist seemed to only get thicker by the minute. Maegor huffs rubbing his body with his free hand to drive away the cold that was biting at his skin. His clothing was not really appropriate for this kind of weather but he would manage. 

Suddenly he jabs his foot painfully into something hard and falls over in the sand, dropping the torch next to him. Maegor bites back all the shouts and curses and remains silent, only grunting in response.

Focus. You need to be calm.

He quickly lifts up the torch so it does not die out in the moist sand and starts to take deep breaths. Maegor inhales and exhales a few times before he stands up and brushes the sand off his clothes. The young Prince searches for whatever he tripped on and tries to pick it up. Too heavy to lift but it's not a boulder that he can feel as much. Maegor brings the torch closer to the object made him lose his balance like that and tries to distinguish its features. He sucks in a distressed breath when he realizes.

A dragon skull. But whose?

Maegor suddenly kneels, picking some of the driftwood that was lying around next to the skull and turns it into a couple of small piles. Thankfully the wood was not too moist so it is quite easy to light it on fire with the help of his torch.

When he finishes the young Prince gasps in shock. Everywhere around him through the fog he could make out the remains of dragons, old and bleached out by the elements. How many he could not tell. From a couple of skulls that seemed to be almost as big as Caraxes' head to countless of small ones, some no bigger than a dog. It was a graveyard and Maegor was standing right in the middle of it. 

His senses suddenly become hyperalert and he almost wants to dart back in the opposite direction. The sight was dreadful and as much as it pained him to see so many dead dragons, Maegor was also intrigued. All the survival instincts inside him are screaming danger but something else is drawing him, like a fly to a spider web.  Dragonstone was a big island, getting lost in this kind of weather was inevitable and while he did not want to face whatever it was that killed all these dragons, something inside him, a flicker of curiosity gnawed at his reason.

Maegor wondered if his parents knew, Daemon must've known for sure, out of every Targaryen he knew, his father was always the one who seemed to be most in tune with dragons and the bond he shared with his Blood Wyrm was unbreakable and went beyond the physical aspect of dragon and rider, their psyches were also in sync, in tune with each other's thoughts and emotions. And after all, it was also Daemon who used to tell him about the wild dragons residing on the island but always mentioned he should stay far away from them and by all means not attempt to claim one. Maybe this was the reason. It had to be. Maegor only hoped that the wild dragons his father was telling him about were still alive and not resting in this graveyard.

Deciding on the spot, the young Prince carried on, he was not fearful but the sight surely unsettled him. His thirst for knowledge and curiosity made him push further through all the bones, not before making sure to gather some driftwood under his free arm in case his torch completely died out and needed to improvise another. 

 Suddenly the remains started looking more or less fresher, with bits of meat and scales still hanging off some of the long bones. Maegor followed them as if he was following a trail specially laid out for him until he reached in front of what he could only make out as the opening of a gigantic cave. The stench of decaying flesh hit his nose hard and he had to drop the driftwood so he could cover his nose with the sleeve of his tunic. Any sane person would have turned back long ago but something was calling to Maegor and it was calling loudly. It was making his body warm up in the freezing cold and the blood in his veins burn. He only felt like this when he saw Aemond for the first time at their reunion. 

Maegor enters the cave, and thanks the gods that the fog did not reach inside the grotto so he can see better with the help of his torch. He tries to tread closely and as silently as possible but he soon realizes that there was no longer any sand under him, just countless bones and remains old and new, some turned to dust by the passing of times or charred by what he could only guess was dragonfire. The lower he shines his torch the more remains he sees, not just dragons, but various mammals as well and eventually even mutilated corpses of humans, some of them only weeks old from what he could tell.

A deep rumbling bellow makes him stop dead in his tracks and freeze.  

Dragon. Could it be Vermithor?

It did not make sense. Maegor was familiar with the Dragonmont volcano where Vermithor had his lair, having visited there with Daemon before. There was no dragon graveyard at Dragonmont, nor a giant cave opening towards the beach.

Maegor holds his breath but his eyes dart around, trying to make out any sign of the beast in the dark but he sees nothing. Only pitch blackness ahead and his torch was barely alive anymore. He looks at the dying light, counting until it will extinguish. Should he advance and risk disturbing the slumber of an unknown dragon or quickly head back out of the cave? 

With a last weak flicker the torch from his hand dies out and Maegor finds himself lost in total darkness.

Another louder bellow snaps him out of his thoughts. The sound of sniffing starts to echo through the cave and suddenly the ground beneath him starts to shake as the beast begins to shift around somewhere in the depths of the cave. 

Who are you fire breather?

So much for not disturbing. The beast is wide awake now and it surely smelled Maegor. 

The young Prince curses silently, gripping the handle of the consumed torch tightly until his knuckles turn white. 

"Māzīs!" Maegor shouts, throwing the torch somewhere on the ground next to him and extends out both of his arms tauntingly. 

Suddenly a thunderous growl almost deafens him, but he does not stagger. He keeps his arms out and glares at the darkness in front of him. Maegor can't see the beast but he knows it can see him.

"Māzīs." He commands again firmly and takes a step forward boldly, recklessly. There is no fear whatsoever in his bones.

The cave begins to shake as if its walls are about to give in and crumble on top of him. Maegor stands his ground and coughs drily from all the dust falling on top of him from the ceiling. Whatever dragon it was, it must have been massive. 

An faint orange glow suddenly appears in the darkness and it draws Maegor's attention immediately. The glow seemingly starts to become brighter until the young Prince realizes with eyes wide open.

Dragonfire. 

He lunges himself with all his strength to his left, falling on top of all the bones under him but safely avoiding the searing flames above him. The Prince was now certain this was no Vermithor. The Bronze Fury knew him and Daemon well from their visits and he was never hostile like this even when Maegor failed to claim him.

 The whole grotto lights up and the young Prince finally gets a fleeting glimpse of the silhouette of the beast at the end of the cave. A massive monstrosity. He knew exactly who it was. Daemon had briefly mentioned him, he told Maegor stories that not even the Rogue Prince believed they were true yet here he was. Right in front of him, in all his glory.

 The most infamous and elusive wild dragon. Cannibal asthe commonfolk and dragonseeds named him. The one who feasted on his own blood.

The devourer of its own kin awaits for you in the depths of darkness.

The Prince is in awe but before he could admire it any longer, the dragon notices he missed and puts out his flames, only to redirect them again towards Maegor. 

"Daor! Lykiri!" Maegor scrambles to his feet, shouting back the beast and notices a moment of hesitation before the dragon refuses to obey the commands and lights up the cave again. 

Maegor dodges again, and uses the fire to his advantage to see a crevice light up by the flames inside the cave's wall, small enough to allow him to slip in. He makes a run for it and after him, the beast starts to move again while spitting fire, riled up by the chase.

The Prince barely manages to squeeze himself inside the tight crevice on time. A sigh of relief escapes his lips and the dragonfire stops. 

"A fucking Targaryen becoming dinner for a dragon." Maegor laughs bitterly. What a pathetic way to die for someone that has the blood of the dragon. But something does not add up, a dragon like Cannibal would have killed him instantly if he really wanted. Maybe he did not want Maegor dead or maybe he just enjoyed taunting his prey.

Suddenly the beast crawls up next to the crevice, growling low and dangerously until his head is right next to it and for the first time Maegor can finally see the giant eye of the dragon looking at him through the small crack. Bright sapphire blue, it was almost glowing in the darkness and the Prince could not help but feel completely bewitched. He is suddenly reminded of Aemond and he sucks in a breath. Of course he remembers.

"A promise is a promise." He mutters under his breath.

Maegor begins to sing softly in the tradition of the Old Valyrian ways, just like his father taught him when they paid visits to Vermithor to keep him company or when he was a child and was desperately trying to hatch his given egg to no avail.

Drakari pykiros

Tīkummo jemiros

Yn lantyz bartossa

Saelot vāedis

The sharp slitted pupil of Cannibal dilates briefly before turning back into a thin slit but his growling fades into a bellow of acknowledgment. 

Hen ñuhā elēnī

Perzyssy vestretis

Se gēlȳn irūdaks

Ānogrose

Maegor takes small step forward, squeezing closer to the exit of the crevice that was hiding him. He observes the dragon for any sign that he might begin with his hostilities again and tests his patience. 

Perzyro udrȳssi

Ezīmptos laehossi

Hārossa letagon

Aōt vāedan

The prince extends his hand outside the crevice, trying to reach out to the beast. A loud growl warns him not to but he does not flinch, instead he boldly touches the scales under his ethereal eye. The spark he felt running through his body made his blood scorch and freeze at the same time. 

Hae mērot gierūli

Se hāros bartossi

Prūmȳsa sōvīli

Gevī dāerī

Boldly, Maegor makes one final move before he sings his last verse. He squeezes completely out of his hiding place and right in front of the notorious monster before him. If this would end with his death he would embrace it, content that he was at least dying trying to fulfill his promise to Aemond. Something was telling Maegor he would live to see another day. He hoped he would because he craved to see Aemond again.

"Hae bōsa hae iksā ñuhon kesā dōrī sagon iā buzdari." The young Prince tells him softly, and the dragon turns his massive head so that he can face Maegor directly and breathe in his scent deeply with a few long sniffs, especially his face. The fire breather seemed to be particularly interested in scenting out the smell of the dried blood from Daemon's inflicted wound earlier.

The Cannibal bares his sword like teeth and growls again in intimidation but Maegor touches his muzzle fearlessly.  

"Ivestragī nyke emagon ao se kosti udrāzma se vys." The young Prince  starts to rub over the scales trying to soothe the beast. And it seems to be working, the massive dragon observes him without anymore noisy threats for now and takes another sniff.

"Cannibal iksis daor iā sȳz brōzi. Kesā sagon rūntan hae Saagael." Maegor promises, staring right into the blazing sapphire gaze. His heart swells with pride when he sees the dragon rumbling and his pupils seem to dilate again with curiosity. The young Prince takes this as his sign to push his luck even further and he presses his forehead against the giant muzzle, closing his eyes and embracing the scorching heat emanating from the dragon.

Maegor leans his whole body against the beast without fear, his feet barely touching the ground anymore on his tiptoes. He could not help but feel tingly and dizzy from a similar kind of rush he felt with Aemond. If the dragon wanted him dead he would have been long ashes by now.

The devourer of its own kin awaits for you in the depths of darkness.

 The young Prince chuckles softly against the scales in excitement, keeping his eyes closed and without noticing, Cannibal - now named Saagael - mirrors Maegor and closes his own sapphire colored eyes.

After all these years, you're finally mine.

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Translations

Daor gaomon skorkydoso bōsa mazēza? = No matter how long it takes?

Nyke kivio, Maegor = I promise, Maegor

Hae bōsa hae iksā ñuhon kesā dōrī sagon iā buzdari = As long as you are mine you will never be a slave.

Māzīs = Come

Daor = No

Lykiri = Calm

Cannibal iksis daor iā sȳz brōzi. Kesā sagon rūntan hae Sagaael*. = Cannibal is not a good name. You will be remembered as Saagael*

Saagael* - also known as the Giver of Pain and faceless Saagael, is a god worshipped in Lys. Whenever a child went missing, the ignorant would look at one another and talk of Saagael's insatiable thirst for blood.

Hāros Bartossi song translation:

Fire breather

Winged leader

But two heads

To a third sing

From my voice

The fires have spoken

And the price has been paid

With blood magicWith words of flame

With clear eyes

To bind the three

To you I sing

As one we gather

And with three heads

We shall fly as we were destined

Beautifully, freely.

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

*crashes in, late to the talk of Culture/world building in RWBY* Sorry I'm late but OMG Can we talk about the biggest flaw in rwby WB that is just all of it when we get the Salem Backstory?! Like lets say we ignore Light being a hypocrite that makes even the Greek gods look better just by 'lets not allow one life to come back but i'm ok with WIPING OUT EVERYONE ELSE'. Lets talk about the ruins that were left behind! Wouldn't they and any items of magic (given that magic was only taken from flesh but if Enchanted Items existed they'd last a really long while) be apart of the culture? The Last humans didn't get to go 'oh btw we got nuked lol' so wouldn't there be questions about it? Like Ex: Mass effect had a race of beings that were highly advance then suddenly POOF! gone! noone knows where they went or what happened to them, only their structures and lil bits of tech remain. Remant would've had that! Then you got Salem who was being a Tryant (Tyrant who didn't get there fully) during their fight with Oz, so what happened to that?! Like ik humans now a days barely want to remember anything that doesn't aid their cause but we seem to remember a good chunk of the horrible people in history who did things for various reasons. So surely Salem was in the history books as the Cruel Queen, right?! Tapestries, old tales, cruel yet intresting sculptures, anything! She had the biggest way to flip the god of light off and didn't take it?! And if Oz gave up during certain amounts of time why didn't she 'unite' the world her way to help prevent Oz's actions moving forward? Groups that could be Salem's Lot that prevent the finding/obtaining of Relics so Oz's inner circle couldn't get to them easily. If RWBY was given the same TLC, Passion, and Soul as any other hit series We'd have our answers, and the four coteninets that seem to matter would have some beautiful mixture of all cultures despite the flaws of each one. Hell I'd love to see a Roman structure built with the same Material as the the Lost City in Mistral, Vale having a way to balance out the various cultures that came through from times of war while still having parts of it self that says 'I am Vale, through and Through' and what saddens me is my head can only go 'Sand! its everywhere! Get used to it!' for Vacuo because they made it seem so. with I believe 1 oasis...I might be wrong its been abit. Atlas-or rather Solitas- could've been Viking theme with bits of other warrior cultures with the main though it 'Tough times brings out the Strong' or something of that nature due to the cold being so harsh even Grimm can't withstand it, and as it progressed to Mantle and Atlas it still head that believe/culture but its more of a 'teach but not done' as the new tech made lives abit easier. I still see Menagerie as Australia just due to its position on the world so i can't think of much for it right now.

Sorry for the long rant. It was one of those things I had to get off because its nuts we went through not 1, not 2, but 3 kingdoms but held very little that could only be described as Lazy cause they knew we weren't going to explore the world and everything was just quick décor in a mario lvl of old.

First off never ever apologize for long asks I love the and I should apologize to well everyone for being slow as shit to reply to them.

Unfortunately, RW//BY suffers from a severe case of the writing is written by the writers flying by the seat of their pants and it shows. We have no hints of humanity existing before the gods killed them all. No signs of the worship of Salem which really should be a thing given she and Ozma acted as gods to humanity 2.0 and Salem killed Ozma before he could do anything about it so she realistically should have continued that cult following telling people his husband betrayed her or whatever sewing the seeds of distrust towards him and all of his reincarnations. Their is just so much that realistically should have happened with Salem that....didn't because the writers didn't bother to put in the work, they didn't build up the world realistically or have this big plan like they claim and the lack of consistent or realistic world building shows that.

Each of the kingdoms should have their own cultures and foods and religions and languages even. They should feel distinct and unique from one another while also still feeling like they all belong to the same world. Haven not having the same tech as Beacon feels jarring. As RW//BY traveled the world they should have repeatedly felt out of place in whatever kingdom they where in because they don't know the culture or customs within the world. We should have them struggling to communicate with people who speak different languages, or at least establish that after the great war everyone learned a single language to allow for communication between the kingdoms.

Sorry back to your point. When Salem killed Ozma the first time, she should have amassed a massive following of worshipers who hated their goddess's treacherous husband. She should have made a mad run for the relics to gain control of them before Ozma could. Their should have been a battle happening for a long ass time over them. Their should be some sort of reason why Salem wasn't causing mass chaos for decades before the events of RW//BY. This war should be much more known about then it is and it doesn't make sense within current cannon why it isn't more known. To hide Salem's existence he should have had to do something to strip her of her strength and influence but we have no evidence of any of that. We have no reason to believe that Salem hasn't bothered to try for the relics until now and that is most definitely a major problem. For example in ATLA, we know the Fire Nation couldn't enact it's ultimate plan because they had to wait for Sozin's comet to return. We have an in universe reason for what has been holding the Fire Nation back until now. RW//BY just doesn't have something like that built in to explain Salem choosing to hide and not acting until now.

I just cannot fathom why CRWBY/fans try and insist that this show has been planned since the beginning with so much evidence that it wasn't and couldn't have been. We have incomplete and contradictory world building, story lines that where never set up. Story lines that where dropped and conflicting canon information and it is just beyond infuriating.

[tallbluelady]

X'rhun Tia's Fencing Club for Ladies

Without further ado (because I had promised to post this weeks ago)...

3.2k

Chapter One: The Fencing Club

It is, of course, no small thing to leave your homeland to come live in another country. Even those of extensive wealth have a hard time adjusting to the customs for a foreign land. So it was with great pride that Mrs. Alfinne Argentas watched as her daughter began to blossom into adulthood while they transitioned into their new home.

Having adopted the girl at what was assumed the age of five, Mrs. Argentas had always worried about Rowan. She was a bright girl, smarter than a good lot of her peers, but she lacked the confidence in herself to truly reach her potential.

She had discussed it with Mr. Argentas when he was yet alive, and a topic that came to mind was her unique appearance. While Rowan was a Duskwight like Mrs. Argentas, she held a much more vibrant hue to her than most Duskwights in Gridania. While Mrs. Argentas herself was a faded sort of twilight color in complexion, Rowan was as blue as the sky at noon. It wasn't just her complexion that was exotic, but her hair was a vibrant green more akin to tree leaves than the wine colored hair Mrs. Argentas shared with her son.

Even with such strange coloring, Mrs. Argentas loved her daughter with all her heart. She only wished that someone else could look into her soft silver eyes and see the lovely woman she was.

She never would have guessed that Rowan would meet that person by following something she read in the paper.

"Mama, pray come read this advertisement. I can scarcely believe the words on the page," Rowan said.

Mrs. Argentas gave a sigh and slowly rose from her seat across from Rowan. Despite the treatments she was receiving from Mr. Tatalymo, she still suffered greatly from fatigue of her aetherical imbalance. It was for that reason alone they came to Sharlyan's shores. But Rowan was quickly learning of the myriad of advantages to be gained from just being in a place that valued learning above all else.

She took the morning's paper from Rowan's hand and read aloud: "'With the esteemed patronage of Lord Leveilleur, the Studium is proud to present the founding of a Ladies' Fencing Club. Teaching the class is one X'rhun Tia, a sword master from Ala Mhigo ready to teach the elegant art of fencing to those of a more gentle disposition. Though the need for combat is limited in these times, especially for ladies of the gentry, the exercise is known to improve balance and increase vigor in those who practice the art. Classes begin at...'" she muttered the rest quickly.

"So I didn't imagine it, that's what it really says?" Rowan asked, eyes wide.

Mrs. Argentas read through a few more lines. "I suppose so. It does not seem to be made in jest. Or if it is, it seems official enough to fool more than us common Gridanian rubes."

"So can I attend those classes?" Rowan asked.

"I suppose we can ask Mr. Totolymo what we should do about your admittance, but there doesn't seem to be any indication that it is an exclusive Ladies' club. The fact that it was advertised in the public newspaper seems to point to it being a part of the public's education."

After a conversation with the Lalafellin gentleman and a few quick notes from him to cut through some red tape, Rowan was accepted into the Studium as his ward on that very day.

"Oh, Mr. Totolymo, I didn't realize you'd have to put yourself on the line to get me in," Rowan said when he gave the women the news.

"Tis no matter, truly. I've seen how keenly your mind works, Ms. Argentas, and I had half a mind to place your name in the Studium's ledger since you and your mother came to Sharlyan proper," the monocled man said.

"But still - we are not of noble birth or high ranking. I had to work as a merchant while my beloved husband was a soldier," Mrs. Argentas said. "Society in Gridania was far harsher on us than Sharlyan's if you are so kind."

Mr. Totolymo smiled faintly. "Sharlyan's society yet holds some harshness, Mrs. Argentas. But to block learning from a young, bright mind? Lord Leveilleur would never allow such a thing to be borne. And besides that, I managed to convince Ms. Hext to join the club with you. Twould be beneficial for her to get to know more young ladies her age, and I feel as though you two would get along swimmingly."

Mrs. Argentas and Rowan both nodded. Ms. Hext was a ward of Mr. Totolymo, from before the XIVth Legion had invaded Ala Mhigo. Rumors had been circulated that she was not, in fact, the original Ms. Hext, but her younger sister. The elder Ms. Hext had been a spy for the war effort in Ala Mhigo, and had died on Ala Mhigan soil defending her homeland. Whether this was a noble thing or a foolish thing was always up to the one whispering such things in their ears. Mrs. Argentas was always smart enough to keep her opinions on rumors to herself, but having lost her husband and son to the conflict with Garlemald, she found herself counting Ms. Hext, if there was the elder, as heroic.

"Now before I leave, have I forgotten to tell you anything...? Oh, uniforms will be provided by the Studium, so there is no need to worry about clothing," Mr. Totolymo said. "Please arrive promptly. Ms. Hext already has a habit of showing up late, and I would hate to have two wards who are tardy."

Rowan nodded, as if she didn't have chronic tardiness and waved her benefactor as he left the Argentas household. Mrs. Argentas then had the pleasure of watching her daughter bounce with delight as she tried to get through her day.

*   *   *   *

Donning on her uniform, Rowan ran from the simple cottage her mother rented to the Studium. She was quite glad of the range of movement the wide skirt provided as she dodged through the still waking town. If she had read what time the Fencing Club would meet, there would have been a good chance that she would have avoided it. Alas, time didn't seem that large of an issue until she had to wake closer to dawn than she was used to. She found the room in the same place it was a few days ago, and found it looking the same to how it did then, only occupied. Smooth wooden floors lead to an entire wall of mirrors. An entire wall! Rowan hadn't seen such a sight in Gridania -  the largest mirror had been in Haukke Manor, and that was a narrow mirror that went floor to ceiling.

She saw herself and the other ladies in the mirror. They looked far more composed than she did, having arrived at an earlier time. There was an Elezen girl who had yet to hit her growth spurt with white hair, a large dark skinned Au'ri woman, a Lalafellin woman with brown hair, one with pink hair, and a blonde Hyurian woman who was running in behind her. At least she wasn't the last one in.

It seemed only a moment that Rowan and the Hyurian lady found a place to sit and place their effects when a Miqo'te man, presumably X'rhun Tia, walked into the room. He was followed by a young Hyurian woman who carried a bundle. Both wore striking red clothing and carried themselves with an air that Rowan very much would like to have herself.

Introductions were made, but Rowan only managed to hold about half of the names given to her. Which might not have been fair, because she had heard of Lyse Hext and Alisaie Leveilleur before. Now they had faces. She did, how ever, remember the Au'ri woman's name - Khaliun Kahkol - as that was her opponent for the day.

Ms. Kahkol was a larger woman for her kind. She may have even been large for a man of her kind. Rowan had to admit to her that she was one of the first Au'ri women she had ever formally met when they were paired up together. That fact actually made Khaliun relax, how ever.

"Well, I don't resemble most Au'ri women, and that often makes people judge me before they know me," Ms. Kahkol said as they watched the Lalafellin women get adjusted by Mr. X'rhun and his assistant.

"I do try my best to at least talk to someone before I make a judgement on their character," Rowan said. "And I hope people do the same for me, saturated as I am."

Ms. Kahkol gave a small chuckle at that. "I do suppose that is one way of putting it. I'm rather monochromatic myself."

"You do have such lovely green eyes though," Rowan said.

Ms. Kahkol beamed, but before she could say aught else, it was their turn to face each other and be evaluated on their faults.

*   *   *   *

Rowan was exhausted but still exhilarated at the end of the class. The advertisement seemed to be true - she did feel her vigor increased by the exercise. That all started to drain away when she realized that everyone was going to a changing room to change into more suitable attire while she had left her clothes at home. How foolish was she to think that such clothing could be worn in public after such a hard bout!

"Aren't you going to change, Ms. Argentas?" Ms. Hext asked.

"I, ah, er, forgot a change of clothes, I'm afraid..." Rowan said abashedly.

Ms. Hext grimaced sympathetically. "If I were closer to you in size, I'd lend you a spare set..."

Ms. Kahkol twisted her uniform she changed out of, "I had only thought to bring enough for the day, or I would have lent you mine."

"That is incredibly kind of you, both of you," Rowan said, touched by the sweetness of her peers.

"What's happened?" Ms. Leveilleur had just appeared out of the changing room.

"Ms. Argentas forgot a change of clothing and we're all trying to think of a solution," Ms. Hext said.

"Where do you live Ms. Argentas?" Ms. Leveilleur asked. "Father is rather overprotective of my health and insisted I take the carriage after each session so I don't overexert myself. I could have the coachman drive you home as well so you can minimize your exposure outside."

Rowan found herself dumbstruck at the offer Ms. Leveilleur gave her. She had only met the lady a mere bell ago. Rowan had either made a rather incredible impression or the favor given was incredibly small to her.

"Ah, it's within walking distance, truly..." Rowan said.

Ms. Leveilleur gave an angry expression. "If not for the fact that my father had already told the coachmen to come pick me up after these lessons I'd refuse to take the carriage. I may as well make use of it to help save a friend from embarrassment."

"Oh, I see. Thank you," Rowan told the floor.

She could hear a sigh come from the young lady, but it seemed that it was a satisfactory enough answer. She followed Ms. Leveilleur to the back of the Studium where the carriages would be gathering. Ms. Kahkol followed them as well.

"Do you have a carriage to wait for, Ms. Kahkol?" Rowan asked as they took a seat.

 "Nay. I just thought I'd shield you from view as you wait for Ms. Leveilleur's," Ms. Kahkol said. "And at this point, I believe we're good enough friends that you may call me 'Khaliun'."

Rowan beamed up at Khaliun. "I daresay we are. Feel free to call me 'Rowan'."

Ms. Leveilleur smiled at the two of them. "Feel free to call me 'Alisaie' whenever you'd like. Especially in front of my father."

Rowan and Khaliun shared a look with each other as a carriage pulled by two beautifully white chocobo stopped in front of them. Once it had, a man opened the carriage door. He wore his silver hair feathered and held the distinction of Archon on his right cheek.

Alisaie lit up as she saw him. "Urianger! I thought you were still on the mainland!"

"There wasn't aught I could do within the stalemate, so thy grandsire bid me return home," the man said, smiling.

Alisaie turned from where she was back to Rowan and Khaliun. "Oh, Urianger, this is Ms. Kahkol and Ms. Argentas. They're in the fencing club with me. Rowan, Khaliun, this is Mr. Arugelt. He's been a friend of my family since... well, since before I was born, at least."

Mr. Arugelt gave them a smile and bowed to each lady in turn.

Rowan curtsied, hoping the movement would hide the blush rising on her face. She found Mr. Arugelt to be a rather handsome man and she was meeting him in an absolutely disheveled state. It would be one thing if it was just the coachman seeing her this way, but to be seen by someone in the Leveilleur's inner circle like this... It would only be worse if Lord Leveilleur himself saw her.

Alisaie explained the situation to Mr. Arugelt quickly while Rowan stood stiffly by Khaliun. While entirely unlikely considering how kind everyone had been that day, Rowan held the dreadful thought of the man refusing her passage in the carriage. 

"Oh, I did not notice her condition, but, aye, we should convey thy friend safely home in the carriage," Mr. Arugelt said. "May we take thee home, Ms. Argentas?"

Rowan found herself nodding. The way he spoke was a trifle more formal than she was used to, but his voice was pleasant.

He hopped out of the carriage and held the door open for Alisaie. It was Rowan's last chance to back out of the offer, but she found herself unwilling to expose herself to more people as she saw other students in the Studium starting to mill about the grounds.

She turned to Khaliun. "Thank you, friend. If there's aught I can do to repay your kindness..."

"Make sure to come next week," Khaliun smiled, "So I have a properly sized partner."

Rowan smiled and stepped into the carriage. She was glad that Alisaie patted the cushion next to her or else she wouldn't have known where to sit. She tucked herself in to give Mr. Arugelt the most room to get back into the carriage.

With a word to the driver about taking Rowan home, they were off from the Studium.

"I must say this is the smoothest carriage ride I've had in all my life," Rowan commented, "Nary a bump or stop to be found."

Mr. Arugelt's eyes lit up at that, and Rowan thought she heard Alisaie chuckle softly.

"Tis a recent innovation, Ms. Argentas. Art thou familiar with the concept of affixing crystals to tools to increase their aetherial efficacy?"

"You know, I had just read a book from the public library about that," Rowan said. "Are you implying that the smoothness of the ride is due to crystals? Is there one of air affixed to the carriage?"

The smile on Mr. Arugelt's face grew wider. "Aye, indeed there is. With only a simple enchantment at each wheel to allow the free movement of aether, one can create a buffer of sorts to prevent the regular jostling of carriage rides."

"Though one has to wonder at the cost of maintaining such a system. This is the finest carriage I have ever ridden, so it is little wonder that it is fitted with the most innovative technologies," Rowan said.

"Properly set and maintained systems shalt last the lifetime of the carriage, Ms. Argentas," Mr. Arugelt said. "Though I must admit that installing such systems are an investment. But as thou hast said thyself, the quality of the ride doth yet benefit."

Rowan nodded, then suddenly realized that they were already in front of the cottage.

"This is the correct place, yes?" Alisaie asked.

"Yes, it is. Thank you again so much for your kindness."

"Tis no trouble at all. I do hope you come to next week's lesson." Alisaie said.

Rowan nodded again, ready to exit the carriage when she almost bumped into Mr. Arugelt, who was hastening to open the door for her.

"Ah, uh, oh. Thank you Mr. Arugelt," she said when the door was opened and he reseated himself.

He nodded. "I must thank thee for the fine company, Ms. Argentas."

She nodded back, gasping when she missed the first step out of the carriage. Luckily, she caught herself on the door frame. Before anyone could offer anymore assistance, she hopped out of the carriage and ran into the cottage, hoping to reduce her mortification.

Her mother looked up in surprise when Rowan entered the kitchen. "Did you run the entire way back? I would have advised you to take a clean set of clothes with you, but you were gone before I had the energy to truly wake."

"Mama, you will never believe it. Alisaie - that is, Ms. Leveilleur - offered to take me in her family carriage from the Fencing Club to our very cottage!" Rowan said, feeling a swelling of emotions. "Specifically to spare me from public scorn. And all the other ladies in the club were terribly kind as well. I can't wait to go next week."

Rowan saw her mother's eyes light up and the two of them spent a large portion of the day discussing the fencing club, the ladies of it, and her ride in the Leveilleur's carriage.

"Is he single?" Mrs. Argentas asked when Rowan described Mr. Arugelt.

"Mama! I only just met the man. For all I know, he is to be engaged with Ms. Leveilleur when she is of age. Or he could be married already." Rowan pulled her embroidery thread a little more aggressively than previous stitches.

"Still, it sounded like the easiest conversation you've had in all your life."

Rowan was trying to build a retort to that, but the bell chimed at the front. Both ladies gave a look of confusion to the other. Was Mr. Totolymo visiting to see how the Fencing Club went? But Rowan was met with a large Hyurian man at the door.

"A letter for you, miss, from Ms. Leveilleur," he said in an Ala Mhigan accent.

"Oh, thank you sir." Rowan took the letter, then tried to find some gil for a tip.

He shook his head. "No need for a tip, miss; the Leveilleurs pay me well enough."

"Tis of a professional courtesy, sir," Rowan said, handing him the gil.

He nodded. "Very well. If you ever need a letter posted, then just ask for Arenvald at the office."

Rowan smiled at him. "I will, thank you."

Letter in hand, Rowan rushed into the drawing room to start reading it. Mrs. Argentas waited with bated breath.

"Ms. Leveilleur invited me to tea tomorrow." She turned to Mrs. Argentas. "Can you believe that?"

"Of course, my dear. You make a fine impression where ever you go. Do you know what you want to wear?"

[autobot2001]

Sleep Struggles

1 of 6 one-shots for Sicktember 2023

Fandom: Transformers ( Bayverse movies? Characters: Crosshairs, Drift, Jamie (OC) Prompts: Day 1: hopelessly Bad at self-care. Alt 4; forehead kisses Warning: Depression, poor mental health Description; Jamie's mental health is terrible to the point where she's terrible at self-care and struggles to sleep.

"I don't know what we're going to do," Drift tells Crosshairs, "Jamie's mental health has been a struggle since we met her years ago, but not like this." The two walk into their room and see Jamie asleep on the couch. The barely touched coffee cake muffin on the coffee table. The two know Jamie finishing her coffee means nothing when she barely eats. They hate she fell asleep, and it's only noon, but Jamie didn't sleep well yet again. Both don't want to discuss how bad Jamie's mental health has been. Her self-care has been bad. They've grown tired of talking about the situation when they feel like there's not much they can do to help her. "You don't think Ratchet will start arguing we need to put a G-tube in?" Drift asks. Crosshairs knows the concern isn't just Jamie losing weight but also not getting what she needs. He can't argue how that decision won't be made. Crosshairs hugs Drift. The subject is changed to Jamie's sleep struggle. With an idea in mind, the two go to the cafeteria, knowing they'll be able to check on their friend throughout the afternoon.

While they know this can't be routine, the two mechs decide to get McDonald's for dinner. Worried about the lack of calories Jamie has eaten today. Both deciding to do the plan at eight. The three watch TV. The two mechs are happy seeing Jamie eating.

"What would we do if you two weren't together?" Crosshairs jokes. "That's not funny when she won't say we're together." I should have known he wouldn't like that joke. Crosshairs regrets. "I'm sorry," Crosshairs apologizes. He tells Jamie he'll be back and leaves the room as the two planned. Crosshairs sits in the hallway by the room. He told Drift he'd be in the upstairs lounge room, but now Crosshairs doesn't want to go far even if it doesn't matter where he is.

Drift is troubled by Crosshairs' terrible joke and why Jamie won't say she and Drift are together. Even if it's not a secret. The blank stare from Jamie doesn't help as she's in the tub. It's hard knowing she won't say we're together, but it's more troubling when the reason why it's a good thing she's ok with me seeing her nude is to sit here and make sure she doesn't try to drown herself.

Crosshairs gets a text from Drift telling him he can come back. He walks into the room and sees Drift holding Jamie on his bed. Crosshairs sits beside Drift, seeing Jamie isn't asleep yet but is falling asleep. "I love you," Drift whispers and kisses Jamie's forehead. Crosshairs rakes Jamie's hand but says nothing.

After a few minutes, Drift puts Jamie in bed. He lies with her until she falls asleep. Crosshairs pulls Drift up to hug him as the mech moves to the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry," he apologizes again. "It's fine; it's just hard that she won't say we're together, and her mental health affects her self-care. " "You stayed with her?" "Yes, I hate how I don't dare leave her alone in the tub." Crosshairs doesn't know what else to say. Both know their mental health is being affected by watching Jamie struggle. Crosshairs knows Drift hasn't been able to meditate, which was how he would help his mental health. They both know they need to take care of themselves to be able to help Jamie, even if, for now, it has turned into taking care of her. Both worry Jamie's sleep struggle is going to be frequent.

[auravulpes]

On the Physical Characteristics of Teyvat

Okay, are you ready for some maths? No? Don't worry! It's basic stuff. I won't torture you too much with the details. Besides, I've learned things about Teyvat that I want to share! Let's just get on with this!

So, my first area of inquiry was, assuming a spherical Teyvat, how big is it actually? I mean, you'd think it was massive, given how far you can see, but is it really? So, I started here.

"But Aura," I hear you ask, "How will you figure out the size of something we don't even have all of yet?" Good question! We'll do it the way Eratosthenes did back in ancient Greece. Yeah, you know that whole thing about how the ancients were stupid and thought the Earth was flat? Yeah, no, multiple ancient societies knew the Earth was round and how big it was to a pretty astonishing degree of accuracy. Today, we follow in their footsteps!

What Eratosthenes did was take a stick that he knew how large it was and go to two different cities along the same meridian. From there, by taking a measurement of its shadow at the same time on the same day, you could work out the difference in angle between the two sticks and the sun's ray, which we can reasonably treat as being parallel due to the distance they travel and the small target they hit. By doing that, as long as you know the distance between the two cities, you could work out the Earth's circumference.

So, how does this work on Teyvat? Well, first, we need two points to measure from. I chose one in Liyue Harbor and one in Guili Plain directly north of the first. I then took a stick of known length, or, as his friends call him, Aether, and took a picture of him and his shadow at the same time. Now, same day of the year would be a bit tricky, but given that Teyvat doesn't seem to actually have seasons, we'll assume 0° of axial tilt, so it ultimately doesn't matter as long as we do the same time, which I chose as noon.

Now, we just need those actual measurements. The easy one is Aether. I'm assuming he's approximately 160 cm tall, give or take. That also allows me to, using some pixel measurements, get the length of his shadow. In Guili Plain, it was 36.3 cm, and in Liyue Harbor, it was 42.1 cm. Now, we just need the distance between the two points. That was a bit tricky. Unfortunately, the game doesn't show distance to a pin you've put down (at least, not that I'm aware). It does, however, show distance to quests, and conveniently, I've not bothered doing Windtrace! From our point in Liyue Harbor to Windtrace was 3101 m. By then stitching some map together in Photoshop, I got that the map at the scale I was using was at 8242.956:1 scale, or about 824 meters per centimeter on the map. I could then measure between my points to find a distance between the two points of approximately 1.04 kilometers.

Okay, we have what we need. First, we do some rudimentary trig to find the angles between our stick and the incoming rays of sun. In Guili Plain, this was 12.78°, and in Liyue Harbor, it was 14.74°. This gives a difference between the two angles of about 2°. This means these two points are about 2° apart on the circumpolar circumference of Teyvat. So, by multiplying our 1.04 kilometers by the 180 of those distances it would take to make a full circle around Teyvat, we get a circumference of 187.2 km! From there, with some simple geometry, we get a radius of 29.79 km, a surface area of 11,151 km², and a volume of about 111 km³.

(By the way, if you're upset about me referring to Aether as "our stick" throughout this first section, just keep reading to see what else I put him through!)

I then decided to take a little detour to figuring out how that would affect curvature. So, each kilometer around the surface is about 0.036 radians (around 2°). By using this, we can find how much drop off there should be. So, I started with the drop off between Qingyun Peak and Mount Yougou. So, some more stitching map screenshots together and we get a distance of about 6.8 kilometers. Using some simple trig, we find we should get a drop off of about 770 m. Dang. But, Qingyun Peak is pretty high up. What about from Liyue Harbor? Well, the distance from Liyue Harbor to Mount Yougou is about 5 kilometers, which would give about 421 meters of drop off. Hmm. Now that's a problem. See, if you actually go to Liyue Harbor and look towards Inazuma, you will see, well, pretty much all of it. It's hard to tell if the coastline is there, but if it isn't, it's only barely below the horizon, and it may just be hidden behind fog. That's not good. Maybe Teyvat is flat? Eh. Let's just keep going, shall we?

Next, I set out to find the acceleration due to gravity on Teyvat. Unfortunately, I needed to drop something and see how long it took to fall, and, well, Aether was right there...

So, I took him up to the top of the Venti statue to set up the drop. I once again needed distances, so I made use of the Windtrace quest once more. I then glided directly above the Windtrace guy and...set Aether plummeting to his death. It's fine. It was in the name of science after all. So, from 35 meters, it took Aether no more than 2.5 seconds. I'll admit, I screwed my timing up a little, so this is actually a lower bound on Teyvatian gravity rather than an exact figure, but it's still interesting. So, 2.5 seconds to fall 35 meters. Some relatively simple kinematics later, and we get an acceleration due to gravity of 12.8 m/s². Now, the equation I used has time squared on bottom, so the smaller the time it takes, the higher the figure you actually get for gravity. Thus, gravity is at least 12.8 m/s², and if I was off by a half a second, you'd find a gravity of around twice Earth's at 19.5 m/s².

Anyways, now that I'm done torturing Aether (it's okay, I kin him), we can figure out the mass of Teyvat. So, using our 12.8 m/s² figure, we can use some slightly more advance kinematics to figure out the mass of Teyvat, and we get a figure of around 1.7×10^20 kilograms. For context, Earth's mass is on the order of 10^24 kilograms and the moon's mass is on the order of 10^22 kilograms, so Teyvat is around 100 times less massive than the moon and 10,000 times less massive than Earth. It's small.

But, now, my friends, we get to the best part. What is the density of Teyvat? It's at this point we learn that either I fucked up somewhere or Teyvat is flat and all this math is invalid, because, get this, when you calculate out the density of Teyvat, you get a figure of 1.5 kg/cm². Not grams per cubic centimeter, not kilograms per cubic meter. 1.5 kilograms per cubic centimeter. For context, the Earth has a density of about 5 grams per cubic centimeter, three whole orders of magnitude less than Teyvat! So, either Teyvat has some really dense insides and a relatively not dense outside, or else I really feel sorry for the miners of Teyvat. I mean, imagine, you've got a minecart with less than a cubic meter of rock in it that weighs literal metric tons! It's absurd!

So, what have we learned? Well, either Teyvat is a super dense planetoid with some weird atmospheric refraction, or, else, I'm an idiot who just tried to apply a university-level understanding of physics and geology to a fictional game set on a generic flat plane without any regard to planetary geometry. But, honestly, who could really say which it is?

If you're curious, here's the images I used for the circumference calculations and the full stitched together map I used for distance measurements.

And here's the actual math. If you want me to go more in to it, let me know. I might. I may also try to actually work out the weird atmospheric refraction I referenced.

[madness-in-the-flesh]

Maybe some hank headcannons to start off the new blog?

Thanks for the ask anon!! And may I say, A very nice way to start of this blog <3 I wrote these as general Hank hcs that can kinda apply to all versions, Since I see some vers ( I.E MAG Hank, Antipathy, Average,etc. ) having some different quirks. So these can just apply to all three of them!

GENERAL HANK HEADCANONS

GENRE - ROMANTIC

TRIGGER WARNING - Stalking, Kidnapping, Stabbing mention, Implied murder.

To catch Hank's eye is something remarkable. He's an unfeeling, slaughtering, terror of a grunt who's only lover is carnage... Atleast that was until you stepped into his life, your biggest mistake yet.

You probably didn't even KNOW you did at first, Hank keeps everything well hidden. He not only keeps his feelings but himself as well.

He prefers to watch you at first, Learning your rountine, likes, Dislikes, friends, etc. He wants to know every little detail because it boggles him how someone like him could fall for someone like you.

He watches you for a long, long time.

But then while he watches you, He slowly realizes how fragile you are... You probably accidentally hurt yourself at one point or he spots a scar and it hits him like a bus, Maybe he just sees you in a fight: Which is common place in Nevada but the outcome doesn't change. Compared to him, You are small, fragile, brittle... weak. He needs to protect you.

After that he's not just watching you, But the people around you. If they treat you badly, or even make the mistake of laying a finger on you, He does what any good protecter would do: Take out the threat.

Possibly gets Sanford and Deimos too if he's unable. Those two would question it if course but it's not like Hank cares. All that matters is your safety

If possible, He may even ask Deimos and Doc / 2BDamned to set up a couple cameras around the area. However he 2B takes a lot more convincing than Deimos.

Either says that you have something to do with the A.A.H.W. and need to have a eye kept on or straight up admits his infatuation with you. After all: He highly doubts anyone could get in his way. Even if they wanted to

Eventually though: Watching isn't enough. He wants to be able to hold you. He sought comfort in your presence, He's sure you wouldn't mind him seeking out a little more close contact.

He is very touch starved too, So the idea of you holding him, the same way he would do to you. His legs turn to jelly and now he's absoluely restless. Promises himself that when you do, He'll savour every second.

You are the only one who can do this to him. You are the ONLY one who's allowed too.

Realistically, You are indeed fucked after being taken by Hank. You aren't getting away from him no matter what you do or say. Once you are in his arms, You aren't ever leaving them again.

He makes quick work of your allies after taking you. Can't have them questioning where you are and going looking in places they shouldn't for answers.

He's not the jealous type because in his mind. There is no reason to fall for anyone else but that doesn't mean he'll let you talk to them. Not unless necessary. You just need eachother. Noone else.

Most would characterize the monster of a man as impatient but he's willing to wait years for you to love him back. His determination is unbreakable: When Hank wants something, Hank gets without fail

Everytime you try to fight back or attempt to hurt him, He finds adoreable! You can probably not do any real damage without a weapon. His booba thick,,,,,,

If you were to get your hands ahold of a possible weapon, which is unlikely: He'd still find it cute but would have to punish you for it. How could you be so careless with it and hurt him? Not that he's not into it...

Either way, If you try to get along with Hank. He's suprisingly one of the easiest to get along with.

You've already got him wrapped around your finger, after all.

[familyagrestefanblog]

Oh screw it, I’ll risk it: About the fan reactions to Gabriel not having known that wearing several Miraculous’ is fatally dangerous

I honestly don't vibe at all with the current attitude going around that in "Evolution" Ladybug did a 'not required act of mercy' when she informed Monarque about the dangers of wearing 15 miraculous at the same time (clarification tho: Marinette saying it IS worthy of due credit, she is upholding a moral responsibility of her hero job and its something noone else has done. It's the Fandom reaction I see over and over again I absolutely don't fuck with).

It just really doesn't sit right with me that seemingly so many people legitimately think that any of our HEROS are entitled to withhold such a crucial information from the villain when it literally regards a human beings sanity, humanity and LIFE. No matter how god damn awful he is and that he was the one starting this war. He’s the villain, HIM acting like one isnt the moral standart, that should be the HEROS.

But just to clarify first: Its not the takes of people who just enjoy to see Gabe (the fictional character) get fucked up for an episode, but still treat the situation with at least SOME of the appropriate gravity, that I’m criticizing here. Its the ones who legitimately think this is rightful and moral justice our heros are entitled to, and that even so much as having mentioned it towards him was a saint-like deed that didnt needed to be done- THATS where all my alarm bells go off (AGAIN).

Because that's just morally despicable to me and in my opinion it's not only VERY MUCH an automatically obligated responsibility of a hero (so not just Ladybug, this regards ALL the heros. Chat Noir, Rena Rouge and everyone else) but truth be told.. in my eyes, this information being mentioned to Hawkmoth from our heros side is already loooooooooooong overdue since the beginning of s4.

In my opinion, the moment our heros found out at the beginning of season 4 that Hawkmoth has been starting to wear the Peacock miraculous himself it automatically became a moral obligation for any of them to make sure that ShadowMoth to 100% KNOWS that even wearing TWO miraculous fucks badly with your mind. For me this is not up for debate. Villains being fuck awful doesn't give heros a free pass for acting amoral themselves. This is also not a situation where “but they assumed” is excusing anything since the consequences are too fatal for that and too many people (besides Gabriel himself) end up in the crossfire.

Look, I'm not going to hold a speech now on ✨seeing the best 🤩 in everyone! ✨giving second chances 🤗 ✨out of the purness of our hearts 💖✨ because that's the right ✔️ and good💁🏼‍♀️✨ thing to do! 💪✨

And I'm also not going to tell you that I think that our teenage heros are obligated to ✨save✨ this toxic garbage can of a grown ass man. No of course fucking not.

Our teenage heros are NOT horrible people because of this - in fact, in my eyes the context of s1-s3 may have had our heros unfortunately assume too much that Hawkmoth KNOWS about the danger. Because of Mayuras involvement, and the heros not knowing that there was a DIFFERENT reason for why Hawkmoth hasn't worn the Peacock for so long himself - but this simply highlights one factor in the narrative that “Multiplication” interestingly enough even brought up:

The question of why tf children are fighting this war against the grown ass man. Because of course are children more likely to look at the way the evil side used their miraculouses and think “Well, apparently Hawkmoth knows about the danger and is now just risking it”, whereas an adult would perhaps have approached this like: “ ...IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII am just gonna mention it just to be sure or just throw it in his face that he isnt as invincible as he thinks he is when he continues like that. I’m gonna clarify this at least for the record so whatever happens afterwards is that asshats own fault, my responsibility is done”

So when Marinette asks Monarque in “Evolution”: Didn’t you know that it was dangerous to use a bunch of Miraculous at once?” (and I hope this line also is a question in the french original) this is not one of our heros “being boundlessly merciful, doing a good deed she didnt HAD to do”, this question hightlights one seriously neglected moral aspect that just wasnt taken care of because children are made to fight this war against an adult, so its no wonder they’d never concidered needing to tell Hawkmoth. Doesnt mean its something positive now that he never knew! That’s not comeuppance, thats just sadistic in the way people celebrate and glorify this (as per usual).

The villain was stripped off his choice and agency regarding if he really wants to risk turning himself into a full blown monster with no way to return. Gabriel was stripped of his agency and choice to do the right thing, something “Evolution” ALSO brought up again from the Heros Day:

Thats NOT good! He and Nathalie were at another crossroad of destiny but couldnt make the choice if risking him possibly ending up becoming so unhinged by the miraculouses influence, his plans crossing lines he previously hesitated or refused to cross, or him ending up taking it out in his civilian life which doesnt have a miraculous ladybug cure, is actually still worth their mission (all things that btw happened with s4). Because I would definitely make the argument that, if they had known, NATHALIE at least would have had insisted on him not wearing it all the time to take care of himself.

There were absolutely a couple of choices here these two could have made in this regard and while it isn't our teenage heros fault per se that this agency was taken away from the villains, it still doesn't change the fact that the villains HAVING this information could have very much have been a game changer. Gabriel and Nathalie are humans, that can't just be disregarded from the moral question. Especially not when disregarding that puts other INNOCENT people in even MORE danger!

No, villains aren't owed jackshit, but if the danger situation they create can be solved more peacefully and civil then in my opinion it is anything but "rightfully justified" for the good guys to instead rather insist on sending them to hell consumed by madness.

At the Heros day Ladybug gave illusion Hawkmoth the choice to redeem himself but it wasn't actually Gabriel it's was an akumatized LILA (once again, a CHILD) and now the villains never had the needed information to make the proper choice if they wanna continue their path, under these VERY DIFFERENT circumstances. Yes, they're fuck awful people but this ain't right either.Not even in the slightest. Nathalie at least made the choice of wearing the Peacock while KNOWING that it would harm her, and the show properly acknowledges that accountability:

And yes, Gabriel decided against his mission in “Evolution” and AFTER Ladybug told him of the dangers. And by all means, for that he can be dunked on however this fandom likes since then he DID have the information and could at least still somewhat properly put that in perspective. That's fine by me, roast away.

But there’s also a hook in the situation now isn't there? Cause Gabriel has already worn TWO Miraculous for an entire season without knowing thats harmful AND he is already wearing 15 (!) Miraculous for a bit when he is finally told.

So for all it is (and tbh, thats ALOT), this information is simply, already too late to not have affected Gabriels decision in "Evolution".

One entire season too late that sealed this man’s and his FAMILY’S fate.

Yes, he did it himself and noone put a gun on his head, but that isnt the moral aspect in this im talking about. If Gabriel hadnt crossed that line without this excessive Miraculous mind influence he wasnt aware of, then I’m sorry, I can hate this man however the fuck I want, in my book this influence nooone warned him about in an entire season is to be taken into concideration. Yes, I would also be saying this about any other villain because I’m not demanding for them to be saved, I merely want the unfortunate morality factors in their fates to be acknowledge (Like, if you think Azula from Avatar the last Airbender is merely a one-note evil and NOT a tragic villain, or Catra and Hordak from She-Ra deserve no ending towards redemption, I can give you a solid piece of my mind)

Immense harm upon a human being out of control has already been done through this assumtion of him having known. This has made him even worse and now he’s walking right into his damnattion, lost in his madness and willing to drag the world with him. I see nothing good or morally RIGHT in this:

Gabriel is done for in the most dehumanizing, painful and awful way; and no matter how much I agree that this man is a toxic, abusive scumbag and deserves to be locked up in a prison cell for the rest of his life, the punishments people are talking about are STILL no fate to be celebrated with such... genuine entitlement for self-proclaimed “rightful” vengeance/ comeuppance in the form of just letting him spiral down even further, ending up a broken and deranged shadow of a person and all alone with nothing and noone left. 

So yeah, I don't fuck at all with the continously returning take that Ladybug, Chat Noir (aka any hero) apparently held the RIGHT to act as moralities harsh fist of justice/vengeance and let it happen that this other human being maybe even unknowningly screws his own mind up, turning himself into a monster to a degree not even HE might ever wanted to become. This is NOT a suitable punishment and its very clearly reveange porn on an extreme level that is just more tolerated fandom-wise after s4 because its the white, male, adult villain, even though the initial GOAL in the show is to defeat Hawkmoth so Paris is safe once more.

Taking the man who has become a monster and taking joy in letting this human being fall into the darkest pits of his madness while undoing his personhood as “deserved punishment thats supposed to LAST” is disgusting. Just put a bullet between his eyes, empty 10 more rounds of ammo in his corpse and let his fashion empire vanish into the lost pages of history, that would be more merciful and heroric then the former.

Its beyond unethical. Heros are not supposed to be executioners or torturers and the way some people are genuinely straight-up serious about that is just.. something to behold (And I purposfully didnt even touch upon the morality behind what people are making ADRIEN do. Of course, once AGAIN without Adrien even being allowed to know that Monarque is his FATHER). Heros aren't justified or entitled to let their villain destroy themselves in such a long-term, painful and dehumanizing process of undoing their sanity. Heros are supposed to be good people and BETTER than the villain they have defeated.

[bnhasalt]

If you could replace Bakugo with any hero students from a different schools included as Midoriya's main rival who would you choose

oh dang, well. Ok, so, you'll have to take this with a grain of salt because I haven't actually caught up to mha in ages. So you might know some characters I don't / something i mention may no longer be accurate etc etc. But i'm gonna try so let's go! [Let's just take the porcupine out of the equation completely for a second. Assume he didn't pass his entrance exam and cannot exist as a classmate, only as setup dressing for izu's backstory.] Right away class 1a offers at least 3 really solid options for the healthy 'everyone benefits and gets stronger from it' genre of rivalry. IIda, Uraraka and Todoroki. Of course there's a lot of variation in between them, Todo's much closer to a more classic rival archetype- at least before the sports festival fight- whereas IIda and Uraraka are more so just pals with a good dose of friendly competition from the get-go. Then you have the other class students like Shinso , Monoma etc. Only noting those two in particular though because they fit the rival memo better, right? Welllllll... Monoma only became as hostile towards class 1a as he did BECAUSE of b_kugo. If he's not in the picture, aka noone provoked EVERY OTHER CLASS asserting they're better than them, he'd have no reason to be that petty. Probably still would be because he IS a theater kid but not enough to warrant a full rivalry I feel njsbnfj especially with someone like izu who's just. you know. a good person that doesn't mock and start shit with people for no reason. And Shinso did have a mini-rivalry-esque characterization in the festival but I wouldn't really count that because he was just trying to get into the hero course, means to an end, nothing personell kid. Then you have more similar situations with the provisional license students, but once again these characters are very minor and even the ones with the most screen time were still just trying to pass that exam same as anyone else. So generally, in my opinion, none of the background/secondary characters really works as a longtime rival to izuku. Partly because these are all students just trying to pass their exams, and partly because izuku is simply not a character that a rational person would just. Hate. For no reason. *cough*. A lot of other rivalries in similar media rely more on the protagonist themselves having flaws that may cause such a relationship to form. Being arrogant, reckless, overconfident and/or convinced they are or will inevitably be the best there ever was etc etc. That's not necessarily good or bad, always depends on how it's handled. Izu, however, is just not that type of protagonist. His main flaws lie more in being extremely self sacrificing, to the point where he can act without thinking, gravely injuring himself in the process, and stuff like that. Which means the only way you can really have that ClassicJackass™ flavor of rivalry is if the Other Person is a completely deluded asshole that sees breathing as competition. In a way forcing the protagonist into the dynamic in retaliation, even though it's not even remotely balanced and no matter what the emotional power imbalance will always be too big to ignore. You see where I'm getting at. Truth be told you cant really replace B_ku as a rival and have the same dynamic, because the dynamic REQUIRES someone that's as huge a piece of shit as he is. However that's just assuming we are looking for that specific dynamic. We don't have to be, and in that case any of the original three work perfectly well as friendly rivals. And if you're just looking for a meme answer instead of this whole spiel about what would work in the story, i'm going to say Ibara. I just think it'd be really funny.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

breathing.

© @supervalcsi

OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @supervalcsi: Dear Aurora, my love, my sunshine, may I get prompt 12 from angst list with Bishop?? Thank you so much my friend! I love you!!! 💕💕💕💕

❝ prompt: “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that”.

❝ words: about 1.3k.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

“Didn't know where else to go”.

His voice sounds lower than normal, as if he is on the verge of tears but fighting against it. You don't ask him how he knows your address, giving him enough space to come inside your house. Bishop doesn't doubt then, guiding his steps through the door to let you close it behind your back as you turn around to face him.

Sometimes he goes to the bar you work in, outside of Santo Padre, in one of the lost roads to nowhere. The two of you spend the night talking about anything concrete, interchanging words. And you can assure that between both there's some kind of connection since you met.

But tonight, he looks too different than usual. The black bags under his eyes mean that he hasn't had much sleep the last few days. The grown beard melting with his well-groomed mustache let you know that he hasn't taken care of himself lately. Just surviving like a lost soul, in pain for something you don't know. Traveling your eyes to his hands, you quickly notice his reddened knuckles a little bit raw.

Licking your bottom lip, hesitating, you take the first step ahead to taste the waters, invading his personal space. Knowing that Bishop is not going to take one back, you shorten till the minimal distance among your bodies to wrap him with your arms. Trying to comfort him, you hug him as much tightly as you can, feeling the man reciprocating the gesture; clinging himself to you as if you were the anchor that helps him to stay afloat.

Only then, he breaks into pieces, letting the tears run down his cheeks as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. Landing one of your hands on the back of his head, you caress gently his hair, wanting to make him feel better. You're not going to ask if he doesn't want to talk. The interrogatories aren't part of your personality. You're the one who usually listens in silence, and maybe offers some kind of advice. But it's not what Bishop needs, not tonight.

Much to your regret, you pull yourself away slowly, without doing any sharp move. Sliding your fingers down by his shoulders to the folds of the black kutte, you help him to take it off so you can hang it on a chair in the living room. He's following you like a lost puppy, keeping his head bowed. Doing the same with the black hoodie, after unzipping it, you hold his hand to guide him through the hallway towards your room.

The place is submerged under the gloom, only illuminated by some streetlights outside, but enough to see the tears on his face. After cleaning them with your fingers, while he takes off his boots and undoes the belt to throw it somewhere, you give him some space to undress and place his jeans and his shirt on the chair next to the desk.

Once lying down on your bed, you welcome him again between your bare and warm arms, aware that he feels a little better by the way his breathing sounds more calmed. Urging Bishop to rest his head on your chest, you can't help but leave a tender kiss on it.

“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that”.

Your voice is honeyed. A soft whisper transmitting him peace. Whilst his arms are surrounding your body and your left one is around his chest, your right hand caresses slowly his cheek; using your fingertips, barely watching the man close his eyes. Soon, his breathing is inappreciable, taking the same rhythm as yours.

Still half asleep you roll around the mattress, to hide your face from sunbeams, filling up your lungs with the strong manly scent from your unexpected visitor last night. Tightening the grip around you, Bishop sighs more awake than sleep, pressing his lips on your forehead for a kiss that lasts longer than expected. But you don't care. It doesn't bother you. Feels good, after all.

“Should I say sorry or thank you?” His throaty voice slides itself through your ears with sorrow and shame.

“You don't have to be sorry, nor thank me anything”.

The smile curving his lips brushes your forehead softly, slightly jumping your heart for no reason, apparently. Resting your heads over the pillow, without breaking the mess of legs and arms tangled you are, your eyes laid on each other. You don't know what time it is, but he looks more rested than yesterday.

“Two days ago… I lost someone important to me”.

“I'm sorry, Bish”.

“Yeah, me too. But things happen for a reason, isn't it?”

Briefly nodding, you're able to see him smiling again. A sleepy grin disappears after a short second. Closing his eyes again, the man sinks his face into the crook of your neck, holding you closer under his grip to his body. The soft gasp escaping his lips, after taking a breath of your sweet smells, makes you giggle because of the tickles.

But that bubble explodes when your phone rings. Normally, no one calls you before two at noon and it couldn't be this late.

“Don't answer, please…”

“Just lemme check who it is”.

Tossing a hand over your head, palming the nightstand until finding the phone, you place it in front of your head. Unknown number. You don't recognize it. Frowning confused, you poke Bishop's cheek to make him look at it. Seems like he recognizes it by the way he has to roll his eyes. Lying on his back and grabbing it, he slides his thumb over the screen to pick up the call.

“(Y/N)?”

“It's Obispo”.

“Jesus fucking Christ, brother, I'm too fucking old for these games. Been looking for you since yesterday morning, about having a heart attack”.

“Don't be dramatic, Taza… How the hell 'you have (Y/N)'s number? Actually, how the hell 'you know her?” Looking at you, the only thing you do is shrug confused. You haven't heard about this man in your life.

“I know you better than yourself, you should know it already”.

“I'm going to hang up”.

“Hey, hey, wait! You okay?”

“I was fucking okay till you call, enjoy my seat today”.

Not giving the man at the other side of the speaker the chance to respond, Bishop finishes the call, leaving the phone on the nightstand behind him.

“How did you know where I live?” You can't help but ask, showing up your curiosity.

“I went to the bar, hoping you were there. But your boss told me you were free, so I ended up threatening him to earn your address. He didn't want to tell me”.

“Maybe he thought you were a psycho”.

“Or a Mayan”.

“Yeah, that gang of Chicanos is pretty crazy too”.

“I hate that fucking name”.

Hearing Bishop laughing for the first time in a week makes you feel some nice shivers traveling your body, resting a leg over his lap and fitting your body to his.

“I came to you because you always cheer me up. No matter what. And I don't know how you do it, but I don't want you to stop”.

Lying by his side and placing a hand on the back of your thigh, to keep your leg over his, the Mexican slides his free arm under your neck with so much care.

“I like to see you happy, to see you smiling. It isn't something I can avoid”.

“What else you can't avoid?”

“The desire of asking you to stay”.

“I'm going to stay if you want me to stay”.

“What if I ask you to kiss me?”

Leaning towards you, the response doesn't wait. At first, Bishop just presses his lips against yours. A soft cramp that bristles your skin completely. Soon, your lips start to move slowly in sync, tasting each other, cutting off your breathings. It is better than you have fantasized sometimes while talking with him sitting on the bar and sharing old whisky in the small hours. And he feels good too, even if he continues carrying the sorrow because of his recent loss, knowing that he has won you somehow.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveeee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans @tclaerh @aurelie-celine @spideysimpossiblegirl

[liibrii]

Chapter 1 of Stillness || yokai hunter!Suna x fem!kitsune!reader || wc: 3.3k || 🦊

Synopsis: Arrival of an unexpected visitor promises your coming days to be interesting...

Genre: supernatural!au, enemies to lovers, angst & fluff, eventual smut

Warnings: reader is a nuisance, fire, mentions of blood

a/n: I'm no expert on Japanese mythology. I did my research but also took creative liberties so please keep in mind the information on yokai in this fic is lacking. Here are some links with basic info on yokai appearing in this series. 

as always feedback is greatly appreciated and if you want to be tagged let me know!

A streak of the new highway is planned to cut through your favourite part of the forest, the one you walk through when heading east to the river kappas inhabit. First trees have already fallen. You caress the bark of the mighty maple that once touched the sky and now lays at your feet, cut and bleeding from the wounds humans inflicted. You still remember when it was a sprout pushing roots into earth and hungrily reaching for the sun rays. Half a century later you fell asleep under its shade and hid in his branches from those chasing you. Why is this how you say goodbye?

Forest spirits peek out of their hiding places, their terrified chimes fill the air. They cling to you, your clothes, your tails. Some you have to convince to leave the branches of the fallen trees, the hollows in their barks that have offered them sanctuary for so many long years. They cry in pain.

And pain has a way of turning into anger.

It's searing and all consuming, spreading through your body as bright blue flames shoot from your hands. They burn all standing in their path. Equipment of workers, their machines and their boxes of metal go up in flames. Truck standing by the fence catches on fire. You transform back into your fox form, running away as it explodes with a bang echoing through the night.

It's a lonely existence, being a kitsune. With years most of your kind have hidden in the forest, many have moved to cities living together with humans, pretending to be them. As if they could ever be. You hold a bit of pity for them but mostly you just don't understand. Why do they go where humans live? Why do they want to live as humans live? Humans are interesting and fun to observe, that much you never denied, but they are also cruel and blind and they drove so many of your kind away. Empty lairs is all they leave behind.

You water the flowers around the temple as you do every morning before heading to bed. From your pocket a forest spirit you've rescued from one of the fallen trees peeks out. Morning sun makes it blink and rattle in confusion. None of your words reassure it so you leave the matter be. It needs time. Time to breathe and time to heal. As you pull out some weeds from between the cobble stones it watches and chimes, sorrowfully.

“I can't say.“ Weeds in your hands catch aflame and whither. You lay them down on the black soil. “We will find you a nicer home. There is a beautiful cherry blossom tree growing by the entrance. Would you like that?“ It gives a soft chime. “We can have a look at it later, alright? Careful!“ you catch it on your outstretched palm. “Stay with me, I'm almost finished with my duties. Do you have a name? Ah I see,“ you nod when it chimes. “How about I call you Koda? Would you like that? Now make sure not to fall off again, alright?“ You help it climb on your shoulder.

Koda turns it's head in all directions taking in the sight. It's probably its first time seeing anything but endless sky and branches. Not that the temple is anything special. It's small, with only two wooden buildings in need of repair and pond you hold particularly dear. No ducks live near it. You brought a pair once in hopes they'd have ducklings to keep you company but sadly before a month passed they became dinner to passing yokai. Ever since the only ducks at the temple are the ones on the edges of the roof.

Surrounding trees grow closely together, casting long shadows over the roofs and the small yard. In their shade a steep staircase leads towards the entrance of the temple. Every morning and every evening you sweep the leaves from the stairs, picking up and keeping the ones you find particularly beautiful. The golden, the deep crimson, and bright green, ones sprouting first when spring arrives, are your favourite. Moss has overgrown most of the steps. Koda chimes for you to put it on it and it sits on the soft green blanket seeming calm for the first time. Its home was taken but what said it couldn't make a new one here, with you? The temple has been your home for as long as you can remember and you doubt you'll ever know any other.

Your new friend still watches in amazement (At least you think it's amazement. Even you find spirits' expressions hard to read) and when you return to check on offerings you consider waking Chochin to help you reassure it. After a short consideration you decide against the idea. The stillness of the early morning is your favourite part of the day after all and you'll hear from your possessed lantern before noon rolls around anyway. Besides Chochin would only scare already rattled Koda. You'd like to spare the spirit further shocks, at least for a while. Luckily most days the temple grounds stand deserted. With each passing year less and less humans come to pay their respect to Inari. Less and less fields are to be found in the area so it's no wonder they forget how much depends on good harvest. They take it for granted and they forget. If centuries have thought you anything is that humans are incredibly good at forgetting.

You're just about to sweep the two fox statues by the entrance when you catch the sound of approaching steps. One person. Must be an early riser. You make your tails disappear and straighten the sleeves of your hoodie before instructing Koda to hide.

A young man steps through the tori gate. He's tall and lanky, a beanpole with dark hair. Most people pant and heave for air when reaching the top. He looks like he just took a pleasant stroll in the park. He takes in his surroundings then walks over to you. “Good morning,“ he greets with a polite smile that doesn't quite reach his slanted eyes.

There's an aura surrounding him. You can tell he's the kind of man people take a second glance at when passing him by. If you asked them why they'd give you a confused look. “I, I have no idea,“ they'd answer, “There was... something.“ If you asked them an hour later they'd be even more confused because they have already forgotten about him. But he is the kind of a man who wants to be forgotten. How else would he hunt yokai in peace?

“Morning,“ you return the pleasantries. Koda in your pockets shivers.

“I'd like to pay my respects. Can I offer alone or-?“ If he's embarrassed by being unsure of how to proceed you can't tell it from his face. You show him to the temple and excuse yourself, aware of how his eyes follow you as you walk across the small courtyard. You don't want him here. But you can't deny him entry.

He doesn't scare you. He's as green as sprouting grass, too young to have any real experience. He probably only recently accepted yokai are real and not just a folktale used to scare children. You might be the first he'd ever meet. At least one that isn't harmless. Still there is something about his calm voice and bored expression that keeps you alerted.

Koda peeks out of your pocket and chimes, worriedly. “We'll see,“ you murmur in response and head over to the pond. It's so empty. Should you get some koi fish? Or would they all too soon become dinner too? Many of those yokai who remain are growing hungrier. Wilder. Hearing approaching footsteps you wonder if that is what brought Mr Witch to your humble abode.

“I've heard there's a kitsune living around here.“

You straighten and turn to face the unwelcome visitor. Was someone else in your shoes they'd act smart and deny their nature. But you can tell he isn't asking. He's just confirming what he already knows. “There is.“

Visibly taken aback he hesitates. “Is it you?“

“I am.“ You don't like his eyes. They are too fox-like.

He bows politely. “I'm Suna Rintarou.“

“Good for you.“

He ignores the poison in your voice. “News of someone destroying the construction site has reached Inarizaki Clan.“ Ah, that explains the lack of fear. If he's here with the backing of a clan naturally he'd feel secure enough to directly challenge you. “I was sent to let the ones responsible know their efforts are meaningless. The road will be built no matter what you- What they do.“

“Ask? Your kind doesn't ask.“

“This might be the one for history books then.“ His face irks you. There's no fear, no nerves showing, no twitch of his mouth or fingers to betray what he's thinking. Humans are as easy to read as open books but the young man in front of you is a blank sheet of paper.

“Leave,“ is all you answer.

To your surprise he bows and obeys. Watching him leave you think he should straighten up.

As the sun rises higher you head to bed, newcomer so heavy on your mind he haunts your dreams. The sole presence of a yokai hunter is something to be worried about. First one comes, then a second, next your kind is being chased away. The only reason you're still here is because the humans can't seem to figure out a way to chase you away for good. Not that they haven't tried. If only they knew worst things live deep in the woods.

When evening falls you sweep the stairs and leave still rattled Koda besides Chochin who disapprovingly rolls it's one eye at you.

The town is only a short run away. It's small, at least you think so since there aren't many you've visited in your relatively short life. You know every nook and cranny, you know which tombstones are nekomata's favourite, you know which of the old street cats will soon join them. They can be a handful but they're the closest thing to friends you have. You pass the old house where teenagers like to gather. Its cellar has been home to keukegen for years now. You catch a glimpse of a few leaving. No doubt the fault of that damn visitor.

The place he's staying at is easy to find. How careless of him. All you have to do is follow the magic of protective charms scattered across the town back to its source. They're sloppy. Almost as if a child made them. But some of them are particularly well made. Work of another clan member perhaps?

You hide in the bushes of the garden surrounding a small house. Mr Witch left the sliding door open. Even in the garden you smell herbs meant to ward away evil spirits. He's sitting on the floor and watching a curious looking thin screen similar to ones you've seen down at the train station. He seems disinterested. When he stands up and leaves the room you silently creep closer to peek inside. The smell of herbs is stronger here. You don't find it unpleasant though many of your yokai friends would disagree.

On the screen you see a map of the town. More maps lay on the low table. Some have scribbles you can't quite read, arrows, and question marks. You hear him returning and scurry back in the safe embrace of darkness and bushes. He sits back down to continue his work, not noticing you were in his home. You lean your head on your paws and watch.

Following Suna around becomes a daily routine. You sweep the stairs in the morning and water the flowers then run the fastest your legs can carry you to the town. Luckily for you he likes sleeping in. His days are uneventful. Boring to be honest. He eats breakfast. Goes to town. Looks at historical monuments downtown. Sits on the only bench in the park and eats ice cream. Heads to library. From time to time he visits the construction site to inquire if there have been any more incidents. There were a few but none of them were your doing. Mr Witch doesn't actually think you're the only one enraged by the new road, does he? Honestly as much as you detest it you're also a little relieved humans haven't decided to build over the northern part of the forest. That would be a lot more troublesome.

You follow on a safe distance as he inspects the surrounding trees, no doubt to chase away the remaining forest spirits. For a very long time he inspects some footprints. You carefully step closer trying to see what caught his attention. Suddenly he stands up and continues on his way. As you follow you glance at the ground. Ah, of course.

He heads back to town after that, returns home and you return to your spot in the bushes. Sun hasn't set yet,  the day is still warm so he brings a low table out on the porch and pours two glasses of dark bubbly liquid.

“Are you going to keep hiding or will you join me for a drink? I have some tofu I can fry if you want. Kitsune like it, right?“ he asks without looking in your direction.

Crap. Well, no point in trying to be sneaky anymore. You step out, head raised high and your tails gracefully swaying with each step. A silver gem radiating light balances on the middle one. Once you reach porch you shapeshift to a human and hide the gem from Suna's eyes. You don't bother hiding the tails though and you take a sit across from him, carefully eyeing and sniffing the contents of the glass.

“Only three tails?“

“Are you judging my age?“

“Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude.“ That's not what his face says. “Thank you for leaving the construction site be,“ he chats on seemingly unbothered by your icy glare. “You must've noticed those footprints too, right? Have any idea where I might find the owner?“

“That sounds like your job Mr Witch.“

“It's Suna actually.“ He keeps talking like you're old acquaintances and it's making your blood boil. “Can I ask for your name? Don't want to call you Miss Kitsune.“

“Why are you here?“

Suna gulps down half of his drink before answering. “To make sure construction continues without any accidents. You seem to think yourself some kind of a yokai protector. Then I'm a protector of humans.“

You bark a laugh. “As if your kind needs protecting.“

“All the people getting sick from those keukegen would disagree.“

“Sounds like it's their fault for not staying away from infested places,“ you retort.

“Then one easy fix would be getting rid of those infested places.“

“An undertaking you have no doubt already started.“

“I'm just doing my job.“

“You can't chase them away for long you know. Your kind has tried before. They always come back.“

You've hoped your words would elicit a response from him. Anything. A trace of frustration, an arrogant grin. Suna pours himself another glass. “Do you want some ice?“

“What I would very much like is for you to leave.“

A grin flashes over his face. “Get used to my presence because I won't go away for a very long time.“

So this is how he wants to play. He isn't the tiniest bit alerted when you abruptly stand up. “We'll see.“

Your daily routine continues. The only difference is you no longer care to hide. Wherever Suna goes you're not far behind. He wants to stay, play the protector of humans, does he? Pathetic. He doesn't seem to be bothered by you following him around. Just slightly unimpressed. It makes you want to set his pants on fire. Just to get a reaction. Just to see his expression change.

“How long do you plan on following me?“

“Who says I'm following you? World doesn't revolve around you Mr Witch. Maybe I just wanted to buy myself some mochi. Have you considered that?“ You pretend to be interested in melons on the shelf. “Aren't these kind of expensive?“

Suna ignores your question. “I'm grocery shopping. There are no yokai here. And I haven't even harmed anyone.“

“Yet. Such a short word. Yet. Somebody has to keep an eye on your nasty tricks.“ You peek into his shopping cart. “Instant ramen and crab chips? Even I know humans need some you know,“ you wave your hand trying to remember what it's called but the word is buried too deep in your memory, “healthy food!“ you say instead and place the most expensive melon in the cart. “Like fruit for example.“

“Put it back.“

“It's healthy.“

“It's expensive.“

“I got money.“ You pull a bundle of bank notes from your pocket.

He puts the melon back on the shelf and grabs the cart with more force than necessary. You hum contently before putting the money in your pocket where it changes back to leaves you picked up last autumn.

The sheer number of different products on the shelves amazes you. And also makes you a little sad. All the offering humans bring to the temple are just rice and tofu and sometimes curry. Not that you don't like rice and tofu but why can't they bring one of all these colourful sweets? Or the chips Suna just put in the cart. Would he notice if one of the bags disappeared?

Walking past the vegetable stand you grab three cucumber packages and plop them down in his cart. You notice he added a bag of brown rice to it.

“Really? Three packages?“ he asks.

“They're a gift for kappas up the stream,“ you smile, innocently.

“Buy them yourself. You got money, don't you?”

“Why, would you like some? What's the matter Mr Witch, job doesn't pay well? Maybe you should consider a career that doesn't rely on destroying our lives.“

“Maybe you should live a life that doesn't harm others.“

You grin, satisfied. And so facade begins to crumble. A loud cough distracts you from throwing back another insult. An older man gives the two of you a disapproving look before returning to reading labels.

Suna grabs the cart and continues his way to the next item on the crumpled shopping list. You trail behind looking like a lost puppy peeking from behind him to see what the next item on the list is, adding new items to the cart Suna immediately puts back in their place. Even by the register you add one more package of chewing gum to the pile.

“At least take one with a fruity flavour,“ says Suna so you grab two more packages with watermelon on them. You think you see his eye twitch though it might be just your imagination. While he puts the groceries in a bag you snatch a chocolate bar from the nearest shelf, then follow him outside to take the cucumbers from the bag he's holding.

“You've been quite busy yesterday,“ you remark as you walk down the street.

“Since you followed me around the entire time I take it you weren't.“ He outstretches his hand. “Your stuff was 700 yen. Pay up.“

You give him a crumbled wrapper.

“Any particular reason you're interested in the old Nishikawa house?“ you ask, continuing to smile innocently when Suna glares at you and puts the wrapper in his pocket.

“I thought you were the local expert on all things paranormal in this town. I'll let you guess twice.“ He peels the sticker off the bananas and sticks it on your forehead. “See you around Miss Kitsune.“

Ch. 2: Red beneath the moon

tag list: @blurring-stars

[shortyisweird9]

'Lonely ghost serie'

Proposition and Accord-part VII

"Ghoooost! Good noon!"

"Hello!"

You opened your eyes slowly, barely awake from the deep sleep you had. The grogginess in your voice shadowed by the abnormal deepness of the voice changer.

"Hey, ghost."

"Corpse! Always pleased to hear you."

"Always ,ey?" Toast picked what you said in a more suggestive tone, teasing you with it.

"Cut it ,man."

You didn't bite on the trap however.

" Anyway, mind if I bring a friend?"

"Of course!"

"Sure why not."

"Okay,brb."

"So ,Corpse..."

"To early for that ,Toast."

Near the white astronaut Ghost had, a new little one came. It was black with a pair of headphones and a Wall-e companion. On top the name Charon was displayed.

The others started circling the new mate as Corpse's pink character stood unmoved by your side.

"Good evening!" A low and mature voice came from a woman. It didn't had a mechanical effect to it so it was coming in naturally.

"Hiiiii!"

"Hello!"

"Guys this is Andreea, Andreea this is the Peanut gallery."

"Ha,nice. Good to meet you all."

"Likewise."

"You too."

"Your robot is cute." Corpse remarked.

You smirked when your phone immediately lighted up. A message from Andreea written in big bold letters: 'HIS VOICE IS HOT!'

'I know :)))'

"Andreea , you know how to play this game?"

"Y-Yeah ummm..."

"Sykkuno."

"Sykkuno! Yeah, I know me and Y- I mean ghost sometimes play it. "

"You play together?"

"Well yeah, we play Fallout together, sometimes Minecraft even Eyes the horror game. Speaking of which ghost?"

"Yeah?"

"My place tonight?"

You smirked knowing what's to come.

"Time to corrupt another soul?"

You laughed was intentionally made to be interpreted by the others as evil and dark. In the inside you cringed, you sounded so stupid.

"Umm,guys?" Sykkuno asked for clarification, to which he will not receive.

"YOU GUYS LIVE IN THE SAME CITY?" Pooki asked all excited for some reason.

"Yeah?"

"Same city? We leave in the same apartment building." Andreea told ,a pleasant hiss rang as her long nailed hands opened a Pepsi can.

'Cola is better'

'Fuck off, Y/n'

':))🖕'

"That's so cute!"

"I guess,but she's a pain."

"A pain? Moi? Please, I am only in pain not one."

The others chuckled at your shenanigans, the humour between you and Andreea being based in play fighting, cursing each other and bumping as hard as you can into each. Considering how much of a height difference is between you two, everything just gets more interesting.

"Maan,I want to stay in the same building with you guys also." Corpse pouted.

You two sounded really nice to be with, especially you. You were fun to talk witg and your natural voice was a godsend to his anxiety and insomnia. It made him sometimes slip into a blissful sleep,especially when you began reading to him Doom lore in the late hours of the night.

' "The Maykrs' need for the Essence is prime. Without it they must suffer the monstrous fate of Transfiguration, and see their wisdom and faculties slither from their twisted forms. By bidding of the Khan Maykr herself, the Order of the Deag has devised a method to improve and accelerate the production of the Hell aura. What once took eons for the savage beasts to attai...oof. Wait."

Corpse heard you move in the bed, your body getting its pressure off it before settling back in.

He wanted to start to ask you to read again when he was interrupted by the sound of smooching ? You were kissing somebody?

You puffed and smiled as Sergiu bombarded you with another waves of kisses, a tradition in your group. You all were touched starved creatures so you showed your platonic affections through hand holding, sudden hugging, cuddling- sometimes propping your cold feet on the other person's back just to be dickish- and rains of kisses.

Sergiu was the most affectionate out of all of you, the rain of kisses being something that his mother used to do before she left to work. 'A kiss on the forehead to brighten your thinking, two on the cheeks so no one is lonely and one wherever you want.'

"Alright! Alright! I get it, you are leaving!"

You laughed as you pushed the cuddly golden retriver of a man away.

His chains attached to his black leather belt with grey 3d rombes running all over it clicked as it bounced. His hair smudged on the worn out black leather jacket and his face all but a smile. He was happy and you love to see it.

-Vrei ceva? ("You want something?")

-Umm...PIZZA PĂTRATĂ DE LA DEDEMAN ȘI MOUNTAIN DEW.("Um...SQUARE SHAPED PIZZA FROM DEDEMAN AND MOUNTAIN DEW.")

The man laughed at your antics, roughing up your freshly washed hair and closing the door as he left.

"Corpse? You still there buddy?"

Corpse felt a pang in his chest, you sounded like you have much more fun with the other person. He knew it was stupid but he couldn't help feel jealous and worried at the same time. He wanted to be the reason to make you sound so happy and he didn't want to be worried of being replaced anytime soon.

"Corpse? My petit orchid? Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah,I am fine."

It came out shaky and too abrupt for your liking. Something's wrong and you didn't want to overstep your boundaries but you couldn't let him go about his day while having something munching on his good mood.

"Hey,hey Corpse."

"Yes?"

"Wanna see my cat?"

"YOU HAVE A CAT?"

"Yes,so do you..."

"Hell yeah. I mean...sure I am cool with that."

You shook your head and became giggling, it's good to know you weren't the only one who didn't know how to cover their slip ups.'

"Trust me Corpse. You don't want to live with this anxiety filled owl."

"HEY! My anxiety adds spice."

"Oh my god!"

"Guys, guys. Can we start the game please?"

"Oh for sure."

————————————————————

"Watch out for the wall, ghost. Watch out for--GHOST! Oh shit ,I lost her guys! Ghost, where are you?"

His character ran in desperate search to find you. When it left the snowy environment from outside , it stopped abruptly. You were there in the office with Sykkuno ripped apart body in front of you.

"Oh shit! Sykkuno!"

His thoughts ran wilde as they hurried to reach a consensus. He knew that you will probably kill him also as you waited for those 10 seconds to pass.

His premonition was proven true went you shut the doors of the office , your character moving slowly towards him.

"Ahhh! Guys ,what the hell do I do?"

His eyes clenched shut as his finger hovered the report button.

The sound of a meeting went off,forcing him to let out the breath he's been withholding. His hands shook as he relaxed himself when his friends started discussing aka screaming at each other.

Someone else called in another body.

You held your fingernails between your lips, leg bouncing from the nerves. You knew Corpse will snitch you out,after all you did killed Sykkuno.

I am so fucked...

Your body covered in a white and black hoodie contorted itself into a smaller position.You ignored the pain that your dead thighs were trying to emit while being in a cross position. Head to busy with anxious thoughts of what Corpse may do.

"Phew, Jesus. I am too nervous for this game."

Andreea's words caught you off guard. She nervous? It's more likely than you think.

Your feelings long forgotten as your protective nature sprung out of the shell.

"You? Nervous? Andreea you are a freaking talented tattoo artist."

"It doesn't matter, my hands are sweating like they are the Danube river."

"Wait ,are you a tattoo artist?"

"Yeah ,I am. I started tatto--"

Mission accomplished! Your goal wasn't to comfort, you knew you sucked at that but to distract. To take her mind away from whatever cause her pain ,then to secretly totally not obviously attack the shit of whatever upset her even bad vibes. Fuck them bad vibes! You and your friends are bad bitches not second hand embarrassments.

"It will be nice if I could do henna also but this hoarding gremlin was only calm enough when she did them. So basically it became her summer job."

Ah. Your mind realised she was telling them how you two met.

You wanted to get some henna tattoos, see if you liked the way the look at you. Andrea was just a beginner when you entered the tattoo shop and her life.

You weren't always an anxious person,the situation changed when your math teacher decided to be a bitch and humiliate you for not knowing geometry. Since then you were always out of breath when you spoke in public, always bouncing your leg when stressed , biting off your nails and having a constant dread when it came socialising with others. And when you are a big girl that amplifies considerably.

People are just shallow like that and you learned a long time ago that their intolerance towards you was a THEY problem rather than a YOU problem.

It's hard thought, sometimes their words and disgusted glares burn you from inside out. Make you feel inhuman ,that your anger,sadness and your passion don't mean anything ,that they are not valid, that you cannot be yourself and liked at the same time nevermind seen as a romantic interest.

But I digress, when it came with Andreea ,everything when abnormally smooth, you joked and laughed, bitch about people and so on. You hit off immediately.

So when you wanted to make a bit of cash ,Andreea didn't hesitate to teach you how to do temporary tattooing.

"That's so nice guys,the body was in specimen room by the way." Dave said.

The others for some reason started blaming Rae , you didn't said nothing as you were still waiting with your breath tight for Corpse to rat you out.

"Corpse? Where were you by the way?"

Here comes the expose.

"I ..uh...wait. I was in the storage then I met Sykkuno in the office but left with ghost."

What?

"Ghost? Can you collaborate his story?"

"Yeah , me and him left Sykkuno. I think orange was with him last time we saw. I am done with my tasks by the way."

"What?"

"LUDWIG! HOW DARE YOU KILL SYKKUNO?!" Corpse growled.

You muted yourself as you squealed. You couldn't believe him. He really took your side!

You took a sip of your green tea, patting yourself on the back for being calm and getting back in the game.

————————————————————

"How could you ,Corpse? I trusted you and you stab me behind my back." Sykkuno exclaimed, pout evident in his voice.

"I am sorry Sykkuno..i-it's just...I...uhh.."

Your microphone was not muted this time so when you burst in laughter you dominated the whole discussion. You laughed ugly but happy as you always did, holding your lower abdomen as it clenched muscle you didn't know you have.

"It's NOT funny, ghost!"

"It'S nOt FuNnY, GhOsT! Bwahaha..."

Despite laughing ,deep down you worried you may have offended your new friends? Nah, too early to call them that.

"I think I know why Corpse did what he did." Grease started in a dramatic sober voice.

"You mean cheated on Sykkuno."

Ludwig ignited couple of laughter from the group.

"Yeah. He did it....drumb rolls please. "

Sean provided the suspenseful roll.

"Because he is a SIMP."

"WHAT?"

"No way..."

"You heard me."

The group went wilde. You didn't know what you could say, your mind crazy yet also numb. Poor Corpse.

"Hey, hey. Guys, please calm down. If you want to come for someone, come for my neck."

Your hands flared up into a peaceful backing sign, you knew of Corpse's bad anxiety and you didn't want to cause him distress by bringing the limelight into his face.

"It's alright, ghost. I am a big boy, I can take it."

You tried to keep it short, you really did but your mind wanted to say one more thing.

"Just like you can open foil?"

You heard a breath intake. You lowered your volume, thinking of what he may do.

"I FUCKING HATE FOIL!"

————————————————————

"Tonight was fun." Corpse said after taking a sip of water.

"Yeah, it was."

You watched your dark hair moving in the air as you played with your toes.

"Sorry again for bringing all the...uh...attention on you."

"It's fine,ghost. I know you didn't mean it."

"Y/n."

"What?"

"My name is Y/n."

Ah!

His heart jumped a bit ,you told him your name that means you trust him right. Lily doesn't know your name so he is the first to know. The first to guard this special information.

"Ghost was kinda wearing down,you know?"

"Y-yeah,...uhh..I mean no! Yes? No? Fuck...It's a pretty name,um...Y/n."

You haulted, getting used to him saying your name will take a while.

"Heh,thanks Corpsie."

"Mhmmm, did you have time to think about what I told you?"

Couple of nights ago,Corpse proposed the idea of starting your own Youtube channel. You were hesitant.

"Corpse, I told I don't think people really like me. I think they just like the voice."

"Non sense. You watched our stream?"

"Noo...? Sorry,I didn't really have time to..."

"Hey, it's okay goofball. Anyway,they were asking more videos with you. Maybe some of them like you because of your voice but most of them like you because they like your personality, gh- Y/n."

"Yeah, I guess..."

"Look you don't have to do it if you don't want to. I just feel bad for all the fans that want to talk with you or sometimes I found something funny and I want to send you or tag you. It's stupid I know."

You didn't like the sad tone of his, your heart tightened and your worries worsened.

"I think I am going to sleep. Goodnight, ghost."

"'Night,Corpse."

You were left in the darkness of your room, at the end of the bed with your long fingers reaching towards your knife, your personal fidget spinner. You chew your nail as you moved the blade unconsciously.

Corpse's account:

.ghost added you. Add them back?

————————————————————

Hey,guys!💖💖

Hope you like the seventh part of the serie. I almost went into a writing block with this one.

Anyway, have a nice day!💗💗

Tagged💖💖: @moolujk @magenta-skyline @yikesyikesyikes95 @mythicalamphitrite @yoyoanaria @simonsbluee @cherry-piee @gaysludge @softboiicorpse @heavenly3308

[sylphid187]

Coming Home, Taking Flight ‐ Chapter 2: Road to Osaka

This Chapter 2 of my fic focusing on Hinata's journey home. A look into Hinata's return to Japan, his interactions with his friends, and how he makes it into the MSBY Black Jackals.

Hinata Shoyou wakes up religiously the next morning. He gets up, goes for a morning jog, gets some yoga in his routine, then makes time for morning meditation. He makes sure to do all this, before heading to the kitchen to make some breakfast for his family. 

He spent most of yesterday and last night catching up with his family and friends, who had to leave late in the night, after they realized that the sun was down and Tsukishima still had to drive Yachi and Yamaguchi home. During dinner, Shouyou had spent blissful time with his family, his mother seemingly very happy about having the returning presence of her eldest, back in their household. He is reminded again how being back in the company of his family in their own home, was so comforting. 

He walks around their kitchen and, as he waits for the rice to finish cooking, he goes into the fridge to find some salmon slices and some tofu. Shouyou smiles and figures that he probably has enough ingredients to make a healthy japanese breakfast with the salmon, and he's sure his mom has enough ingredients to make some miso soup to go with the meal. He smiles as he is reminded of how he fiddled around in hisbshared space with Pedro, and how Shouyou would usually make breakfast for his roommate, before going to wake him so they could enjoy a meal together. 

As much as Shouyou wanted to treat his family to some brazillian recipes he'd learned from Nice, he didn't have enough ingredients for it right now. So he promises himself he'd do that another day. He'd be more than happy to share the other culture that he's grown to love, with the one that he grew up with. 

Later, when Shouyou is just about finished with setting up the table and their morning meal, he hears padded footsteps make their way through their dining area, and is sure that it's Natsu that's making her way to the kitchen. He hears a gasp and looks up to find that he's guessed right, and Natsu is there staring at their table. 

"Wow Nii-chan, this looks great!" she claps her hands together in glee and continues to scan over what Shouyou has made. 

"Thanks Natsu! Hope you like it! I packed one for mom so she can take it with her to work." Shouyou smiled. His mother still worked on the weekends, and she was used to laboring hard as a single mother. She had worked hard her whole life to sustain Shouyou and Natsu. Shouyou hopes that his dreams of going pro wouldn't just be a benefit to him, but would help lighten the load on his family too. 

"It really does look good! I can't wait to dig in!" Natsu clasps her hands together again, before heading to the sink to wash them, and sitting down at her usual spot on the table. 

Shouyou then sits across from her, and they both give thanks before beginning to dig in. Natsu immediately gives out a happy squeal after a few bites, and Shouyou can't help but chuckle at his sister's antics. He's extremely pleased though that she seems to genuinely like his food. "Nii-chan! This is so good! It looked great, but it tastes even better." 

Shouyou grins. "Flattery will get you nowhere Natsu, but thank you. I'm really happy you like it." 

"It's a real shame you won't be staying longer Nii-chan. I wouldn't mind eating more of your cooking. You're leaving this afternoon right?" she asks him with a smile. 

"That's right. I'll leave by noon, sorry I won't be able to spend more time with you and mom. And I just got home too." Shouyou states, a little gloomy at the thought. 

It saddens him a bit that he can't spend more time with his family, just after he's gotten back. But Shouyou cut it really close when he chose to fly back yesterday. He couldn't book earlier flights because he also wanted to maximize spending time with Pedro, Heitor, Nice and Coach. That, and he did promise to wait after Heitor and Nice's wedding.  But, he needed to be home in time to make it to tryouts. Granted, his chosen flight really didn't give him much time for any detours. Tryouts were on Monday, and today was Saturday. The plan was to head out Saturday afternoon to Osaka via train. 

The train ride from Miyagi to Higashiosaka in Osaka was about nine hours. He had planned to leave around noon to get to Osaka by 10pm. He still had to find a place to stay, but he figured he would work it out when he got there. He could, of course, leave on a Sunday. But Shouyou wanted to have enough time to familiarize himself with the area before tryouts, and have at least a little bit of time to get in shape while waiting for the day to arrive. He didn't want to show up to Osaka not knowing where he was headed and end up missing tryouts because he got lost. With this, he'd at least have a full day to go around the area. 

"Don't apologize to us for following your dreams, Shouyou." The two look to the sound of the voice, to find their mother there with a smile on her face. "We support you, always remember that. And whenever you're having a hard day and need to come home, we'll be here to welcome you back." 

"Mama..." Shouyou smiles. He really was very lucky, and he will never tell himself otherwise. 

"That's right Nii-chan! And I can't wait to tell my friends and teammates all about you when you make the team!" Natsu says as she shoves another piece of fish in her mouth. 

"Natsu! I told you I have to make the team first. There's definitely tons of competition for a spot on the team." He contemplates on this. He's both nervous and excited for tryouts, but he will definitely be doing his best, no matter who his competition is. 

Their mother goes to the countertop and picks up the lunch Shouyou made and smiles at her son. "Oh believe me, you'll make it." 

"Mama! Not you too! I don't wanna be overconfident about it." 

"Shouyou, I'm not saying it because of any other reason, but because I truly believe that you'll make it." She goes over to him and pats his head. "It doesn't matter to me how old you and Natsu ever grow up to be. I will always be your number one fan. And you always remember one thing, I am so very proud of you." 

" Thank you." Shouyou feels like crying, but he stops himself and opts for a wide smile instead. "I'll definitely ace tryouts, you'll see. I'll make sure they notice me."

"Yes you will!" Natsu chimes in. 

"I know you will." She thanks him for the meal he's made for her before kissing both kids on the cheek and making her way to the door. "By the way Shouyou, are your things packed for later?" 

"Yep! I made sure I had everything before going to sleep last night." He says with a proud smile. "I might end up leaving a little earlier though. I want to make sure I catch the train on time." 

This makes their mother stop in her tracks, and Natsu snicker. "Shouyou, did you think you were taking the train?" 

Shouyou is confused. "Yes? I mean, how else am I supposed to get to Osaka?" he asks as he tilts his head to the side. 

"Natsu." 

Natsu grins "Don't worry about it mama. Nii-chan will find out later anyway. So everyone agreed to keep quiet about it." 

"Keep quiet about what?" Shouyou asks again as he looks between them both. "Am I missing something?"

"It's a surprise." And what a surprise it was. 

 ---

Shouyou was just grabbing his things and about to head out the door, Natsu following behind him. "Nii-chan I really think you should wait a bit." 

"Sorry Natsu, if I wait any longer I might miss my train!" He ruffled her hair affectionately and continued "Take good care of mama while I'm away, okay?" 

"Nii-chan wait!" Natsu tries to grab Shouyou as he opens the door, but misses. He slides their door open and comes face to face with none other than Kozume Kenma and Kuroo Tetsurou. 

Shouyou blinks. And then again. And again. "Kenma-nii! Kuroo-nii! You made it just in time." he hears Natsu speak from behind him. 

"Yo, chibi-chan! What's up?" Kuroo's personality hasn't changed at least, Shouyou thinks. 

"Wha...what are you guys doing here?!" Shouyou gasps, as he looks over at the newcomers. 

"Shouyou." He looks over to Kenma who is smiling at him. "I'd like to think you owe me a better greeting than that." 

"Yeah, that's kinda hurtful chibi-chan. After we came all the way here to take you to Osaka." Kuroo says with a grin as he slings his arm around Kenma's shoulder. 

" You're taking me to Osaka?!" Shouyou exclaims again in shock. 

Kenma sighs, a small smile still on his face. He dislodges himself from Kuro’s hold and goes to envelope Shouyou in a hug. It takes a moment, but Shouyou relaxes and immediately hugs back. "Welcome home Shouyou." 

Shouyou feels someone ruffling his hair and he opens his eyes to see Kuroo there with a smile. "Glad to have you back Chibi-chan" 

He feels Kenma let go, and the gamer finally stands back to take a good look at Shouyou after all this time. "You look good." 

"Thanks Kenma! You too!" He grins. 

"Should I be jealous?" Kuroo asks with a smirk as he watches them, but one look from Kenma shuts him up as he raises his hand in resignation. He chuckles and shakes his head, allowing the two to continue talking.  

"You've changed too." Kenma continues as he grins. "I can't wait to see what else you're gonna do Shouyou." 

"If you get boring, I'll drop you."  

Shouyou ends up giving out a nervous laugh as he remembers Kenma's words from back then, just when Kenma offered to become his sponsor. But deep down, he knows that Kenma has only ever done everything he could to help Shouyou, and that was said in jest...probably. The former Nekoma setter was just really fascinated with him, for some reason. 

"As much as I love the touching reunion, we have to move folks. It's a 10 hour drive to Osaka!" Kuro exclaims as he pats their backs. 

Kuro and Kenma both begin to help Shouyou and Natsu bring the former's things to the car. While they're loading up, Shouyou continues to say thanks to his friends for taking the time to bring him to  their destination. "I really appreciate it you guys, thank you. I was fine with taking the train though!" 

Kenma scrunches his face in disapproval and replies "There's no way we'd let you take the train, not when we had the time to pick you up ourselves." 

"I hope you guys didn't put off anything important." he tells them. He knows how busy Kenma has been, as he's regularly kept in touch in Brazil. 

"I can manage Shouyou, don't worry too much about it." Kenma says with a wave of his hand. 

"What Kenma means to say, is that if he had it his way, he would have been the one to pick you up from the airport too. Unfortunately, he lost at a game of rock-paper-scissors to Tsukki and had to give the airport pickup to them. And he also wants you to know that he finished all his workload early to make sure we were free when you got here. So don't you worry about it." Kuroo says as he shuts the trunk and dusts his hands. He looks over at the two with a large grin before he feels someone lightly punch his side. 

Kenma gives Kuroo a glare and then another playful shove. "Just get in the car before I decide to leave you here Kuro." 

"Awww you'd never do that kitten." Kenma stares at Kuro with a piercing gaze, and Shouyou thinks if looks could kill, that was it. "Annndd I'll be quiet now. Come on chibi-chan! let's get you to Osaka!" 

Natsu waves at them animatedly as they all get in the car. She lets out a loud "Keep safe!" as they drive away from the Hinata household and begin their 10 hour car ride. 

The ride begins similarly to that of yesterday, filled with catching up and updates on how everyone else has been doing. Shouyou has had little contact with the former Nekoma team, with the exception of Kenma and Kuroo. This wasn't for the lack of trying either, but he’s only ever occasionally spoken to Inouka and Lev, and that's during one or two video calls during a day off. It isn't a surprise to him that team Nekoma have all worked their way up the ladder as they grew up, and even through their success, continued to stay connected within their own circle. Kenma and Kuroo themselves regularly spoke to all their former teammates and told Shouyou much of how they were all doing. 

"Waaah! I've heard from Lev about his modeling career! I didn't know he'd become such a big name in Russia." he exclaims excitedly. 

"Lev is still Lev. He might look pristine and proper in the photos, but he's just as loud as ever." Kenma says with a sigh, as if just talking about Lev was tiring him out. 

Kuroo guffaws. "At least he's mellowed down some because of Yaku." 

Shouyou tits his head "Are they?" 

Kuroo looks at him from the rearview mirror and smiles. "We can neither confirm nor deny, I'm afraid. Neither of them have said anything, but Yaku's sent us photos of them together. It's pretty common at this point, ever since Yakkun's been playing for the Russian V-League." 

"We hear he plans to come back though. There's some talk that they've begun to scout for players fit for the Japanese volleyball olympic team, and Yaku wants to be here and play for Japan." Kenma states, as he begins to fiddle with what seems like a new game console. 

"Ah yeah! Bokuto's been excited about that too. But he wants the Jackals to win this season first and finally kill the Alder's winning streak." Kuro tells them with a smirk. "And you know, they might actually be able to if you make it on the team chibi-chan." 

"Ahaha...well I'll definitely make sure to make an impression during tryouts." Shouyou says. "I can't wait to see Bokuto-san on Monday! I wonder if he'll be watching tryouts?" 

"From what Bo tells me, Coach Foster is requiring them to watch this year. He wants the whole team's opinion on getting a new player." Kuro replies. 

"Shouyou, what do you mean by seeing Bokuto on Monday?" Kenma immediately asks, putting his game down and turns to look at Shouyou. 

"Eh? I mean, I won't be seeing him till tryouts." Shouyou reiterates with a tilt of his head, when else would he find the time to see Bokuto-san? 

"Wait chibi-chan, aren't you going to..." Kuro doesn't get to finish. 

"Shouyou, where in Osaka are you staying? Sorry, we forgot to ask earlier." Kenma asks him. 

"Oh! Sorry, my bad. I was wondering if you guys knew of any affordable budget hotels that you can drop me off in that's near the tryouts gym?" Shouyou asks with a smile. He sees Kenma freeze and Kuroo's eyebrows shoot up. 

"..." Kenma stays silent for a little too long, and Shouyou wonders if he's said something he shouldn't have. 

"I can look one up though! So you guys can drop me off somewhere in the area and I should be able to find one that'll let me stay two nights!" 

"Kuro." That's all he hears Kenma say, before the rooster haired man is nodding and passing his phone to Kenma. 

"Got it. Just send the text out and let them know it's you. Shouldn't be a problem." Kuroo replies. Shouyou doesn't understand what's happening.

"Um." 

Kuroo looks over at him again. "Don't worry about it chibi-chan, we know exactly where to take you." 

"Really? Where?" He asks, confused. 

"You'll see." 

He can see Kenma vigorously typing a message using Kuroo's phone, and once he's done, looks over to Shouyou again with a smile. "You're not sleeping in a random hotel, Shouyou. I'm not letting you." 

"Eh?" 

"Don't worry though, we've already found a solution." Kenma continues with a smile. 

"Eeh?" 

"Better to just go with it, there's no stopping Kenma when he's like this." Kuroo grins again. 

"But..." Shouyou begins to protest. He really hopes his friends aren't spending money on him. "K-Kenma..." 

"But you know," Kenma stares at him then, with catlike eyes that seem to be boring into his soul. "If you ever do something like this again and not let me know, I'll be really upset Shouyou." 

"Eeehhhh?" Shouyou binks. He looks between the two and can't help his confusion from growing. 

What in the world is Kenma talking about? And where in the world were they taking him?! 

CHAPTER 1 BELOW

[stabbysideblog]

Philza: *Kills his son, leaves his other son alone when in exile and under the manipulation of a mad God, destroys his sons home with said manipulative God, lets his son's girlfriend/boyfriend sheep die and doesn't even stop to think about the innocents in the mix*

Also Philza: :) I would die for Techno :) I'm gonna adopt Ranboo :) What a good person I am :)

god noone on the smp is in the clear

people say techno was in the right because he was betrayed and he was in retirement when they went to kill him. They told techno they were going to make a new government and then acted suprised when they did just that? also he still BLEW UP A NATION. If you kill someone then decide you won't kill anyone else you'll still suffer the consequences of killing someone!

Philza realized when he had to kill his son that governments will corrupt the most pure people. He still tried and when he has to watch as his oldest friends was almost murdered in front of him that no matter what governments are going to corrupt and murder. He STILL destroyed an entire country that his son held dear and people looked at as a sign of hope.

People forget that while things can EXPLAIN characters actions they don't nessecarily JUSTIFY them. Everyone sees themself as thr good guy. Everyone has their own reasons for doing things. Everyone is a lil right and a lil wrong. and that's okay! embrace it! life isn't black and white either. It's much easier to draw a picture using every shade of grey than just black and white.