#Team Valour

[saschacant]

Just opened pogo for the first time in years to rejoin team twinkstinct and WHAT THE FUCK is this HAHAHAJSHSFJDKDK ??? Blanche I’m sorry my sister you lowkey deserved to to suffer (I am an ex-mystic apostate) but this goes against the Geneva convention… maybe red really is the way forward and even she’s not doing so great PLS this is homophobic I just know this is homophobic this is so beyond atrocious GIVE THEM BACK… Niantic owes ME £2.49 for having to suffer this travesty STOP

for WHAT

[darckcarnival]

"Listen, we may be a little unorthadox in methods, but when you put myself, Leon, and Ace in one party to get shit done? Boy do we get it done! Sorry Chris, we just work well."

This is saying nothing of the sheer collateral damage that may or may not ensue immediately during said team up. She will not be commenting on the destruction left beuind, was other peoples fault asking for a hand really!

Commands? Rules? Nonsense.

@braverybled @flambace @valour-bound

[dirt-str1der]

Now thats what im talking about

[jasmines-library]

BATFAM/DC MASTERLIST

Gotham City Library:

Total Works: 46

Last updated: 11 June 2024

⛤ MASTERLIST ⛤

ONE SHOTS:

⛤ Tried and True

Summary: During a fight with Bane you get critically injured but leave it hidden from your brothers. When they find out, it's a race against time to get you back to the safety of the manor.

⛤ I’ll make this up to you

Summary: after being kidnapped by the joker, Jason is forced to watch you being tortured when you beg to take his place.

⛤ Catch Me if I Fall - Save Me When I Drown(pt2)

Summary: after the death of Jason, you can’t help but feel guilty, so you resort to some unhealthy coping methods.

⛤ The ‘Do Not Call’ List

Summary: After finally escaping your life one night without saying goodbye to your family, you find yourself in jeopardy, which leads to a well anticipated call.

⛤ Needle and Thread

Summary: Dick is forced to carry out a life-saving emergency surgery when you are too far away to reach help before it becomes too late.

⛤ Lost and Found

Summary: After falling into a trap, you are captured by Scarecrow and exposed to his fear toxin. When your older brothers arrive to help you, your fear gets the better of you

⛤ Lazarus Rising

Summary: after an accident takes your life, your brothers manage to find a way to bring you back. But it leaves you with a set of prominent scars that you struggle to come to terms with. But your brothers are there to help you realise that you are beautiful just the way you are.

⛤ Unbroken Valour

Summary: Ignoring his orders, Tim leaves to face the Joker after he escapes Arkham. Fearing for his safety, you chase after him and when he is put in a life threatening position, you don't think. You just do.

⛤ Ask Again Later

Summary: You are being flooded with threats. Text after text after text or headings about how your brothers were going to die if you didn’t make a descision. It was simple. Your life, or theirs.

⛤ Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?

Summary: Reader suffers through aftermath of a SA, but once the batfam discover it, they are by your side to help you out.

⛤ One Step At a Time

Summary: The batfam help suicidal!reader

⛤ Wait For You

Summary: Whilst trying to protect your brother on a patrol, an explosive causes you to fall into a coma. Your brother stick by you through your recovery.

⛤ The Stranger In The Mirror

Summary: Whilst on solo patrol, you fall into The Joker's trap. He then brainwashes and tortures you into becoming the Joker Junior to help wreak havoc in Gotham and your family have to try to persuade you to believe them that they are there to help you. (i can't write summaries I get it.)

⛤ The Ghost of You

Summary: after your death, the batfam struggle to navigate their lives without you.

⛤ Loaded Silence

Summary: Kidnapping/tortured for information

⛤ Veins

Summary: Reader passes out on a patrol and won’t wake up

⛤ Jokes On Me

Summary: chatty!reader has an encounter with the joker, where their torture is live-streamed to the cave. When they return home, they become a shell of who they were before.

⛤ Tired Eyes

Summary: It’s been a long day, and you’re too caught up with work to take care of yourself, so it’s up to your brothers to do it for you.

⛤ The Cover Up

Summary: You're tired of living a lie. of living in a constant state of secrecy. You want out, but you have to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. That finally comes in the form of Dick Grayson, but things so sideways when the Court send assassins after you and you are forced to rely on a team of masked vigilante's and long-time enemies of the Court to save your life. (gn reader :))

⛤ Hold Me Like A Grudge

Summary: Ever since you joined your father at his home, Damian Wayne had despised you. He tries to spend his time as far away from you as possible, until one night you seek comfort in him after a nightmare and everything changes. (gn reader :))

⛤ Fight Or Flight

Summary: The batfam comfort reader during a panic attack.

⛤ My Way Home is Through You

Summary: Reader with powers gets adopted in after the batfam patch them up.

⛤ Brother Mine

Summary: Male Reader is a child weapon with electricity powers, created with the intent to kill Cassandra after she escaped, though when he tried to take her down and he gets caught he ends up with much more than he bargained for.

⛤ Heal

Summary: You have the ablilty to transfer a wound to yourself, but the only thing is, the vigilantes only think that the injury gets healed, so when the find out fluff ensues. - it’s kinda angsty in some places.

⛤ Look After You

Summary: when you fall asleep on Jason’s shoulder, the boys take care of you.

⛤ Just The Way You Are

Summary: the batfam reassure reader with an ED

⛤ Tlusty Czwartek

Summary: The Batfam celebrate Tlusty Czwartek with Polish reader

⛤ Kitchen Antics

Summary: Just a fluffy one shot about the reader being allowed to cook and the batfam being jealous.

⛤ Heartbreak Doesn’t Feel So Good

Summary: Batfam comfort reader after her partner cheats on her

⛤ Metalhead

Summary; the batboys react to reader who listens to a lot of metal music.

⛤ Baby Wayne

Summary: youngest Wayne child learns about Batman and Robin at school and rambles to their family.

⛤ Bullet With Butterfly Wings

Summary: Enemies to lovers (Jason x reader)

⛤ Flu Season

Summary: reader is sick and wants cass to look after them

⛤ Arts and Crafts

Summary: Danish reader crochets and knits gifts for the batboys

⛤ Changes (spn x dc)

Summary: You are sick of Sam and Deans bickering, so you head to Gotham to hunt some vampires where you meet some very interesting vigilantes.

⛤ Brotherly Love

Summary: Dami spoils you

⛤ Batfam with batsis who was a black widow

- Part 2

⛤ Batfam with reader from Buffy The Vampire Slayer AU?? Idk how to title it

⛤ Batfam with a non vigilante reader

⛤ Batfam with Reader with adhd/autism

⛤ Batfam with Spider-Man/silk reader

⛤ Batfam with art prodigy reader

⛤ Batfam with Samoan!reader

⛤ Batfam with Selina Kyle reader

⛤ Batfam with Paramedic!Reader

[lurksunderthebed]

Major Spoilers MWIII (5/5)

Thoughts on Ghostsoap mwiii part 5 (just kill me now)

SUPER BEWARE ********PLZ DONT CLICK IF YOU DON'T WANT MASSIVE SPOILERS

BEWARE SPOILERS ⚠️⚠️⚠️

A final farewell

So this is in Scotland (probably the Highlands where clan MacTavish ancestral home is).

It's telling that there's no family for Soap but the team for scattering his ashes. Perhaps there was a funeral and the ashes were divided between family and friends. It's up for interpretation, but the angst loving person in me can't help but think that Soap's family was his team. To be special forces and away most times, I can't imagine Soap got to see family often anyway (if he did have any close ones).

↓they make closing remarks and it's ghost who speaks last. You can tell this guy is just biting back tears.

↓its also saying a lot that it's Ghost's bag that has his ashes. 141 are on a cliff side. There's no obvious trail, to get there from any sort of road. The idea of 141 taking a hike, one last journey with Soap and Ghost carrying him for that one very last time is making me tear up again goddammit. 😭😭😭😭

↓ symbolically this kills me. Ghost is the one who takes ahold of most of it. And it's Ghost who was the closest to Soap. It could've been Price to hold it, he was the one who knew Soap the longest probably, but no it's Ghost who gets the honours. The others take the top and bottom respectively. This is another instance of Soap and Ghost's relationship physically being embodied. They didn't need to frame it like this. But its here.

↓141's last words to soap. Going from Price to Gaz and then Ghost.

↓ghost's voice wavers. You can just tell he's fucking mentally destroyed. One last Johnny to Soap. Sorry gonna cry in a corner.

↓its ghost who gets to do the final hand off. He's the one who scatters it into the air.

the ashes fly off into the viewers frame (straight centre of us) Soap is gone. But is he really? He's become a part of us.

Price leads Gaz away, physically dragging him out. And it's Ghost who gets one last glance before he picks up his bag and leaves. God there's so much detail.

It's a fitting end to John "Soap" MacTavish. Someone who I imagine was proud of his heritage. Of course he would want to be home in the lands of his ancestors, surrounded by the people he viewed as family.

↓the credits. It pans lovingly over what looks to be Soap's kit. Complete with guns, plates and explosives.

It ends with a picture. A reminder of who Soap was and is. A man of valour and bravery. He died saving the lives of many. A hero to the end.

Fuck man I'm emotionally dead.

[antiquepearlss]

The Royal Engineer has foolishly stated that he can successfully steal from Eugene Fitzherbert, Corona’s former greatest thief. Sure, he’s left that life behind, but there’s no way that Varian can steal from him, right?

So, they make a bet. If Varian can steal Eugene’s Medal of Valour by midnight, Eugene will publicly declare him an Amazing Human/Genius. But that doesn’t matter, because Varian isn’t going to win.

It’s finished. It took awhile, but I’m genuinely really proud of how this came out.

If you’re looking for three chapters of light-hearted team awesome fluff and comedy, with a dash of sassy Varian, found family, and capitalization errors, then you should check this out.

[deadsportyguys]

The Death of Alex Mercer, the elite spy agent

After returning from a successful task, Alex Mercer, the 20y-year-old elite agent, was trapped in a conspiracy against him in his agency. At the midnight that day, he was coerced to hang himself with a cord rope provided by his superior officer...

However, the superior officers in the agency decided to cover up Alex's coerced suicide in the prison cell. They announced Alex was executed by a criminal organisation in a failed a mission.

To cover up the marks on Alex's body indicating his final struggles, the medical team attached to the spy agency applied the most advanced technology to process his dead body.

A week after his coerced suicide, his body lay in state at a hospital. After that, the soldiers secretly carried his body to a special room in the agency building.

Ten years later, some new predicaments forced the spy agency to re-examine Alex's case. So, the higher ranking officers decided to open Alex's coffin, which had been lying in the special room for ten years.

The quality of the coffin and the climate in the room kept Alex's body in a recognisable appearance. Due to his athletic physical condition when he was alive, the chiselled geometries of his muscles were still clear to the medical team, though his skin had downgraded.

To listen to the full story, please go to my YouTube channel!

[dear-oizys]

My thoughts on the latest 911 episode

Ashes Ashes

This was written while I was watching the episode.

Ok I really support Tevan or Buck Tommy or whatever it is but why did they cut to Eddie's face when Buck got his award?

Bobby looks like a proud dad at everyone.

Bobby!!!!!! Is getting a Medal of Valour!!!!!!!! Bobby you deserve it so much!!!!!!!

Bro. What the fuck?? You deserve it too!!

Ravi you glorious bastard. I love you.

Gerrard fuck you. Die. Please die.

Chimney!!!!!!!! Go off king!!!! You're fucking awesome!!

Why the fuck is the councilwoman here?? You bitch. Please tell me she doesn't mess up Mara's adoption??

Nooooooooooooo. I'm literally dying. Bobby you are not resigning. Please. Why the fuck are you retiring??

You are a goddamn hero Bobby.

Athena I love you. So much. So so so much.

I can just see Bobby's tiredness. I can really feel it. Peter Krause. The man that you are.

Eddie. I love you. But honey what are you doing. I love you. But please get some help. Please.

Do I kinda actually like Kim??

Sometimes I forget that it's Angela Fucking Basset on this show. I love her so much. She is so awesome.

I'm gonna cry. I'm actually crying. Bobby is being a dad to everyone while this sad music is playing in the background.

What the hell. I can't see the screen or the words I'm typing. Relying on autocorrect to help me now.

Bobby just handed buck the groceries so that he will cook for the team after he leaves. Why. Just why did I start this show?

Your work here is not done Bobby.

Bobby is literally Buck's father and Buck is Bobby's son. I can't see anything rn

What the hell is Kim doing here. I'm still crying. Let me compose myself.

Buck!!!! Confront Eddie!!!! What the hell!!!! Omg!!!! Buck you did NOT just say that. Damn. He's not holding back!!? Edmundo. Something is definitely going on. Don't say nothing.

Buck is not holding back anything today. Damn.

Mara and Denny!!!!!! I love them?!! Adoption hearing is cancelled. I hate you councilwoman Ortiz. You are a complete and utter bitch. I hate you so much

Thank god. Eddie told Kim. Thank God. Wow. I kinda feel bad for Eddie even though his actions are kinda shitty. But I hope he gets better and gets the help he needs.

Was she Eddie??? Was she the love of your life??? Ok I feel really bad for Eddie.

Ok I feel so bad for Amir. But I am 100% sure Amir is gonna burn down their house.

Peter Krause and Angela Bassett. I love you guys. I feel so so bad for Athena and Bobby.

Wow. That woman is just killing Hen. Wow. How do I help Hen?? How? Please someone take care of that woman.

What. What. They're taking Mara away????????? What. The. Hell????

What the hell?????? What is Kim doing here??? Did she have bangs before????? Is it even Kim??? What the hell is she even doing?? Is it kim or not????????? What is happening??????? Is he hallucinating??? Ryan Guzman. You are so good.

Eddie. You are not broken. Eddie.

Oh my god. Oh god. Chris. Shit. This is not good.

Bobby's dream is terrible. Its not even a dream. Its a fucking nightmare for him. No no no. This is my happening. No. Oh god. Oh my god. No. Please. What the hell. Bobby. Athena. Please escape guys please. Athena please be okay. Please. Oh thank god. Athena is okay. Is Bobby having a heartattack???????? His heart stopped??????

Picture of me during this episode

[alivingtypo]

I take notes when i watch new episodes so may i introduce my completely sane and succinct thoughts while watching 7x09

911 7x09 ashes, ashes 

wheel of fortune is fun 

Starting ahhhh the medal ceremony

Buck sitting between Tommy and Eddie is insane

I’m so proud of them omg 

Bobby’s proud face

Bobby MEDAL OF VALOUR

oh no Bobby 

Oh no Bobby 

Chim and maddie are so sweet

RAVI MY BOY

Tommy and buck are cute tho 

Oh fuck 

Gerard 

Homophobic cunt 

I love when Maddie interacts with others

Bobby freaking out ahh

Oh no the mayor or whatever councilwoman 

Oh my god I’m going to lose it if she fucks with the Wilson family I’m gonna lose it 

Oh my god talk you out of something RESIGNATION FUCK I WAS RIGHT 

BOBBY RETIRING 

IM FREAKING OUT 

WHO IS GOING TO REPLACE HIM 

if they split up the 118 I’m gonna throw up 

For fucks sake Eddie

A rowboat with your dead wife’s doppelgänger

WHAT WHY YOU SEEM SO FAMILIAR

this is wild 

Eddie pull yourself together she is not your wife or your girlfriend (or your husband) 

She’s really digging right to the core of him 

Amir is back 

Athena stop breaking the law 

Athena and Amir friendship feels right 

Is Bobby gonna kill himself bc I can’t handle that 

Bobby I’m going to cry 

He’s looking at his family 

Why is the music making this so much worse

His last call with the team maybe 

Bobby calling her Mother hen then looking at buck and Eddie 

He’s dading Ravi I’m gonna cry 

He’s having a dad moment with everyone one last time 

“What are you making” Not me you” “you’re the chef tonight”

Buck being the new 118 chef I’m gonna throw up

Bobby stop it 

Buck loved Bobby’s approval 

I’m crying 

Buck is so cute god

Father son moment I’m gonna throw up 

“Here’s to seven more” 

DAD SON DATING TALK MOMENT 

IM GONNA THROW UP 

OH NO 

KIM BUCK IS SEEING KIM

BUCK WATCH OUT 

HES LIKE FUCK 

WHO DID YOU SAY YOU WERE

Would you mind giving these to him for me. Bucks gonna go to Eddie’s and it’s gonna end bad 

DIAZ HOUSE 

HES LIKE WHY IS BUCK HERE 

BACK DOOR LMAO

MIRRORING THE SHANNON AT THE FIREHOUSE SCENE FUCK

EDDIE PLS BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL

they’re gonna argue aren’t they

It’s not like we’re having an affair GURL BE REAL RN 

I’m worried about you SAME 

The Wilson’s and Hans are so sweet

I’m gonna cry I love them 

Oh no fucking councilwoman is meddling isn’t she

We’re halfway through and I’m shaking 

Kim is shocked at least he told her I guess 

But I’m not her (pls let this be the end of it) 

Ok at lease he’s apologising 

Pls tell her you have a girlfriend

I want Marisol to walk in 

Eddie pls go to therapy

I think she was (the love of my life) girl rose coloured glasses 

Unfinished business

Omg he’s gonna say everything to her for closure (and then Marisol can walk in) 

Amir at the grant Nash house

I’m sweating 

Amir and councilwoman team up would end the world

Amir getting very angry Bobby is gonna lose it 

Oh no Bobby and Athena fight 

Getting your affairs in order oh my god no 

Bobby therapy pls 

Bobby baby 

Bobby and Athena are so sweet together

Pls communicate losers

Councilwoman I’m gonna fight you 

If councilwoman swoops in and takes Mara I’m gonna throw up 

She’s gonna ruin everything I’m gonna throw up

This is so fucked up

I’m gonna throw up

This is so fucked 

I’m gonna fight the councilwoman

Eddie oh god is that Marisol 

WHAT THE FUCK 

SHES DRESSED UO AS SHANNON WHAT 

OK SO MAYBE FOR CLOSURE BUT THIS IS FUCKED 

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL DAMAGE

he’s going for it 

Ok this is fucked but also kinda sweet

If they end up in bed I’m suing 

Go to therapy 

This is fucked 

I want Marisol to walk in 

YESSS 

CHRIS NO 

Bobby’s fucking house 

Pls 

Why is his dad in the kitchen ok dream ok 

Bobby mental break 

NOT THE BOOK 

ALL THE PEIPLE YOU DIDNT SAVE

YOU WERE A CHILD 

do you smell that

Fuck the poor house 

Not the garden that’s where the family all get together 

Athena oh no

Oh no oh no 

It’s gonna end on this isn’t it 

Oh my god 

Why isn’t Athena waking up

Oh my god 

The poor house 

NOOO NOT A HEART ATTSCK

HIS HEART STOPPED FUCK OFF

NO IF THEY KILL BOBBY IM DEAD 

THATS A CRUEL ENDING 

TRAILER 

Athena waking up and no Bobby

On a ventilator 

THIS IS FUCKED

so yeah i obviously have a very very clear mind while watching my weewoo show

[winterinhimring]

Post-NWH Raimiverse Headcanons

(These may or may not be relevant to a fic I am writing, but that's some time in the future. For now, I have all sorts of thoughts on how the Raimiverse will change after the cured villains make their return and so I must inflict those thoughts on all of you.)

Oscorp now has the best lab safety regulations of any corporation in the business. Period. They're light-years ahead of the current standards. Depending on who you ask, this was either Norman's last act as CEO before he stepped back for Unspecified Health Reasons, or Harry's first. Both of these theories suggest some interesting things.

Within the company, theories about What Is Wrong With The Osborns run rampant. Norman just sets off people's danger instincts now, because people his age aren't supposed to move like Olympic-level gymnasts - Peter can get away with being inhumanly flexible because he's a teenager and adults tend to expect teenagers to be capable of some slightly inhuman feats anyway; Norman less so. He can also see a little too well in the dark, and he periodically pops up in places he shouldn't really have been able to get to. It doesn't help that he's usually in those places to terrorise people whose lab safety standards are slipping. "Dad, stop scaring the interns" / "I just want to make sure nobody falls into an experiment and becomes a villain" is an exchange that Norman and Harry have had multiple times.

The theories range from "Norman is a vampire" through "Norman was in a lab accident and wound up able to teleport, but can't control it, so Harry stepped up so nobody would see his dad accidentally disappearing from board meetings" to "The Green Goblin was the result of an accident testing the performance enhancers and Norman hunted him down but had to take the enhancers himself to beat him and it broke his health".

(There are also, of course, theories that are uncomfortably close to the truth. Generally, what happens is that an older employee quietly takes the person who has put the pieces together aside and says, 'yes, you think you've figured it out, but think very carefully about whether you want to *say* it in front of the legal team *and* the possibly-not-quite-human former CEO'. The theorist invariably decides that discretion is the better part of valour.)

Harry does not unsettle people in himself. Harry is shockingly normal and while he can be a bit of a brat on occasion, he's usually very nice. However, people are a little scared of him anyway, because he treats his weird freaky cryptid dad like a perfectly normal person.

When Otto Octavius comes back from his little jaunt into another universe and lands in a destroyed warehouse after nearly wrecking half of New York, Oscorp's second defining feature, after the lab safety, becomes their terrifyingly effective legal team. A lot of precedents about the humane treatment of enhanced individuals are set, and ultimately they get Otto off with a pretty light sentence owing to the whole 'four AIs were controlling his brain' thing. Also, Rosie Octavius survives in this world (because she just does, okay? I'm appealing to the butterfly effect because...just imagine her bonding with May and MJ. It's a wonderful thought).

Once Otto has served his time, he becomes Peter's Science Enabler Uncle. They get along like a house on fire and are an absolute pair of holy terrors. Multiple things have been set on fire in the Octavius (and also the Osborn) house because of them. (So, so many things.)

Rosie, May, MJ, and Harry form the 'not a scientist but afflicted with a scientist dad/husband/nephew/best friend' club and stay over at each others' houses when one of their residences is temporarily uninhabitable because Otto and Peter were doing late night science, or Otto and *Norman* were poking the arc reactor that Otto brought back from the other universe and made a fire. Or because someone had the bright idea of cannibalising a small appliance for a robotics project and now the toaster is no longer functional.

Rosie and MJ are especially good friends and get into long, involved literary discussions which Peter and Otto are utterly baffled by. Even Harry, who's pretty well-read, can't keep up with them once they really get going. Peter and Otto are very proud.

At some point, a Conversation is had about Curt Connors. ('WHAT DO YOU MEAN PETER'S PROFESSOR IS GOING TO TURN HIMSELF INTO A LIZARD?' MJ shouts. 'I didn't say he was *going* to, I said we should keep an eye on him.' 'That...is really not very reassuring.')

And everyone lives happily ever after, to the end of their days.

[hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog]

For something more fluffy and funny

Imagine the AUs playing fucking DnD with Husk as the DM (because he was around the time DND got invented and I can see Husk being a good DM).

There is also a rule that there can only be ONE (maybe two depending on how big the party size is ) bard because Husk knows if that rule doesnt exist he's gonna have so many vicious mockery rolls its gonna give him a headache.

As for classes, now this is just me assigning peeps classes based on vibes and if they would play or not. If people have their own suggestions, please do share owo. (also please note I am baby DND noob, so most of info is coming from Baldur's Gate 3's wiki)

Canon Alastor-Bard, that is if anyone can get him to play and make him promise not to do something insane like teleport them into the world of DnD. (College of Lore branch). Sidenote: he only got bard because of that one animation where Alastor cats vicious mockery just insult Lucifer's height wheeeze. also because if you told al could hurt people with magical insults, he would go for it let's be honest.

Canon Vox-Artificer, since it seems up his ally but again this is a case of, can you get him to play it, probably more willing than canon Al, but would also rage quit if he fails dice rolls. (Artillerist branch)

Swap Alastor-He gives Cleric vibes. Probably more willing, but you would have to walk him through stuff. Probably ends up the team mom against his will. (Life Domain branch)

Swap Vox-Torn between Fighter or Paladin, leaning more towards Fighter. Probably not so willing, but would if his Alastor was. Would probably leave others for dead. (Champion Branch for Fighter, maybe Oath of Devotion branch for Paladin).

Secretly Married Alastor-Rogue, like Canon, would need to be talked into it, but may lean towards more willing just to humor it. Takes a lot of the notes and rolling the highest perception checks (Arcane trickster branch)

Secretly Married Vox-Sorcerer, like his partner, doing it to humor it (and also because sorcerer class sounded cool to him). Is hyping up his Al and somehow skating by on his rolls (example if the roll success require is like 15, he barley just makes it with the help of his modifiers). Also storm sorcery branch

Dadstatiocradio Alastor-Bard, because he does not trust his canon part to not pick fights with vicious mockery. May know more about the game thanks to his Charlie or not, who knows, but is the most willing to join in I say. (College of Valour branch).

Dadstaticradio Vox-Okay this one is hard, but like, he gives Enchantment branch wizard vibes tbh. Maybe just me tho. Also the most willing. Would threaten to cast fireball to make everyone shut up.

Radio Guard Alastor-Torn between Bloodhunter and warlock (Fiend branch because haha get it his deal with Lucifer). Probably legit only joined because Husk needed another sane player and or he was bored and was just "Fuck it". Is the one who takes it a bit more seriously and trying to gather the most information.

Radio Guard Vox-Ranger, because he thought it would be fun. Like Dadstaticradios, he is the most willing to join. Prides himself on headshots when he can get them in campaigns. ( Hunter branch maybe).

Blueberry-Warlock, really only joins after some convincing (and the promise of canon Alastor will be nice to him). The running joke and just confirmed campaign canon is Husk is Blueberry's patron who helps guide him around. (Husk Patron branch /j, Archfey tech).

Highschool Al and Vox are Dms with Husk since idk what they would be tbh.

May do a part 2 since this just,,,Vox and Als hfkdsjf

-⚔️ anon

I know the vicious mockery animation you're talking about it KILLS me I love it

I know very little about DnD as much as I want to learn but I love all of this so much, the overwhelming amount of AUs we have gathered makes for so much chaotic content when they're grouped together. You're so creative w these ideas

[megalony]

Since watching the promo for this weeks episode, I've had an idea stuck in my head. It just came to me and I would love it if you'd be interested in writing it haha. Sorry it's really specific 😆

Tommy and y/n are married and she was 9 months pregnant when Tommy flew to help the 118 rescue Athena and Bobby. The baby was born a few days before the team is receiving their medals. Y/n is really sore and she's having cramps from the C-section and Tommy tells her that she doesn't have to go but she really wants to go support him. She dresses up and makes herself look cute, and she swoons at how handsome Tommy is in his suit. During the ceremony the baby starts fussing and maybe she drops something and can't pick it up so someone like Karen helps her and she gets embarrassed because everyone is watching her struggle. There's food afterwards and Tommy guides her around and makes sure she's okay. 🤗❤

Hi 👋

don’t apologise for how specific this is all the details help me and stop me getting sidetracked.

And you have no idea how giddy this made me when this request came through my inbox. I was so hyped and bubbly and this really really helped as it was something I was desperate to write.

I hope you like how it turned out and thank you for sending this in I was in love with this idea.

Love And Valour

🥰🥰🥰

[elerrinacrownedwithstars]

Of the Silmarils, part 2: Fëanor and Morgoth

In his letters, Tolkien often talked about the Fall, and how he saw it as an important part of almost any story. The idea of Fall, and its incorporation in the legendarium, is one of the most blatant references to Tolkien's faith - although he interestingly differs from Christian dogma in seeing mortal death as a gift, not as a consequence of the Fall.

Just as interesting is how the Fall is a part of everything in Arda - and the way nobody embodies the Fall quite like the mightiest of Ainur, and the most gifted of the Elves. The stories of Morgoth and Fëanor parallel each other pretty much from the start, beginning with how they are described:

"To Melkor among the Ainur had been given the greatest gifts of power and knowledge, and he had a share in all the gifts of his brethren." - Ainulindalë, The Music of the Ainur "For Fëanor was made the mightiest in all parts of body and mind: in valour, in endurance, in beauty, in understanding, in skill, in strength and subtlety alike: of all the Children of Ilúvatar, and a bright flame was in him." - Of the Sun and Moon and the Hiding of Valinor

These two are the mightiest of their kinds, but whatever promise of greatness there is in their genesis, it ultimately fails. Both of them are exceedingly proud, which is their fatal flaw: humbling themselves is unbearable for them, and so they spiral down into chaos. Neither are "team players", so to speak, looking for no counsel from their peers, but wishing always to lead, and going alone to uncharted places to seek for knowledge that is hidden from others. Morgoth can't bear it when lordship among the Ainur is given to Manwë, and the seed of Fëanor's discontent may be seen in not being able to possess alone the paternal love of Finwë.

Morgoth and Fëanor both also seem very jealous of what they consider their own. Interestingly, even the reason for why they Fall, respectively, seems to be in some kind of an inappropriate and jealous desire/love, even the Flame Imperishable itself:

"He had gone often alone into the void places seeking the Imperishable Flame; for desire grew hot within him to bring into Being things of his own, and it seemed to him that Ilúvatar took no thought of the Void, and he was impatient of its emptiness. Yet he found not the Fire, for it is with Ilúvatar." - Ainulindalë, The Music of the Ainur

"For Fëanor began to love the Silmarils with a greedy love, and grudged the sight of them to all save to his father and his seven sons; he seldom remembered now that the light within them was not his own." - Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor

These two passages are not maybe not entirely uniform, but I feel like there is something there. In the part 1 of my Silmaril posts, I speculate more on whether the Silmarils are somehow alive, and if this life is connected in some manner to Flame Imperishable; I intend to eventually explore the implications further from other perspectives. Nevertheless, both Morgoth and Fëanor form a desire, or attachment if you will, to something that is perhaps beyond even their deep understanding, and reaching beyond the boundaries of sub-creation, even at the mystery of Life/Light (which is the sole right of Ilúvatar); if you speak in Christian terms, they are toeing the lines of blasphemy, like man Fell by attempting to become like God. Eventually, it's through Fëanor's "greedy love" of the Silmarils that Morgoth is able to carry his corruption through.

Though Fëanor rightly and bitterly hates Morgoth for Finwë's murder and the taking of the Silmarils, his words against the Valar and rebellion essentially stem from Morgoth's own mind. This is interesting irony in the story of Fëanor. The seeds of dissent are present even before Morgoth's release from Mandos - although it seems to be implied in Of the Darkening of Valinor that the rift between Fëanor and Fingolfin might have been healed, if there had been more time:

"For Fingolfin held forth his hand, saying: 'As I promised, I do now. I release thee, and remember no grievance.' Then Fëanor took his hand in silence; but Fingolfin said: 'Half-brother in blood, full brother in heart I will be. Thou shalt lead and I will follow. May no new grief divide us.' 'I hear thee,' said Feanor. 'So be it.'

Another similarity is how both Morgoth and Fëanor are granted a chance to repent:

"... and he was cast into prison in the fastness of Mandos... There was Melkor doomed to abide for three ages long, before his cause should be tried anew, or he should plead again for pardon. " - Of the Coming of the Elves "The Silmarils had passed away, and all one it may seem whether Fëanor had said yea or nay to Yavanna; yet had he said yea at the first, before the tidings came from Formenos, it may be that his after deeds would have been other than they were." - Of the Flight of the Noldor.

In the previous part, I wrote about the second passage, and wondered if this moment of choice is indeed about more than just the Silmarils: a chance is offered to Fëanor to take another path, and had he chosen to give up the Silmarils, he might have received some grace from it (like Bilbo does when he gives up the Ring). In Tolkien's legendarium, being able to let go of the material world is always a virtue.

The Darkening of Valinor and the Flight of the Noldor show keen parallels between Morgoth and Fëanor, or we might say that Morgoth's theft of the Silmaril foreshadow Fëanor's own actions (and their consequences). Here is what happens:

Morgoth slays Finwë, spilling innocent blood at Formenos / Fëanor attacks the Teleri to take their ships, spilling innocent blood at Alqualondë

Morgoth takes the Silmarils, the greatest work of Fëanor never to be achieved again / Fëanor takes the ships of the Teleri, their greatest work that will never be achieved again

The Silmarils burn Morgoth's hands, and he's never freed from the pain of the burning; eventually, the weight of the Silmarils becomes a terrible burden / the Silmarils burn the hands of the last living Fëanorians and torment them unbearably; the Oath becomes a terrible burden

And so Fëanor's corruption is complete. Just like Morgoth, he sees only value in his own works, and wantonly destroys what others worked hard to create. It seems that this is an often overlooked part of the Silm: someone else's sacred property is wasted for the sake of Fëanor's pride and anger. Moreover, he deems that his right of ownership is more important than others' right to live. It is clear that at this point Fëanor and his sons forfeit their right to the Silmarils, which makes the second and third Kinslayings particularly terrible.

Fëanor's change after Alqualondë is striking. He now comes across not as just corrupted, but evil. It no longer feels like he is acting out of grief and rage. He abandons the host of Fingolfin to the bitter march through Helcaraxe, and does this after the Doom of Mandos has been uttered and Fingolfin and his followers cannot repent anymore. His order to burn the ships of the Teleri is truly chilling. This carelessness also extends to his own sons:

"And looking out from the slopes of Ered Wethrin with his last sight he beheld far off the peaks of Thangorodrim, mightiest of the towers of Middle-earth, and knew with the foreknowledge of death that no power of the Noldor would ever overthrow them; but he cursed the name of Morgoth thrice, and laid it upon his sons to hold to their oath, and to avenge their father." - Of the Return of the Noldor

Fëanor no longer cares about anything except for the Oath, and revenge. He knows there is no chance of the Noldor prevailing against Morgoth, and yet he calls for his sons to keep on going, even though it will cost them everything. I can't help but imagine the scenario where Fëanor does not die of his wounds by Balrogs, but somehow survives. This would surely be even worse than anything Morgoth managed to bring forth by himself. Between Morgoth and Fëanor, I think Beleriand would soon have succumbed into complete chaos and ruin.

The stories of Morgoth and Fëanor end echoing one another, just as they began. Eventually, Morgoth is brought down and the Valar cast him into the Void, where he will remain until the end of time. Fëanor dies and his spirit goes into the Halls of Mandos, where he will stay until the end. So the two of the mightiest of beings ever created by Ilúvatar are gone from the world, but their deeds are woven into the history of Arda in irrevocable ways.

To try and wrap up this post, I must say that in my opinion attempting to justify and explain away Fëanor's deeds is to undermine the tragedy of his story. Trying to take away the weight of his offences against his kindred and his own family is to dilute the devastation of The Silmarillion. The reader is meant to feel horror at the corruption of one who began with so much promise, and who had the ability to change the world for so much better; instead, his legacy is of ruin, violence and grief. This horror loses its teeth if you try to find ways to explain it away, or shift blame elsewhere (especially to the victims of Kinslayings). But this does not mean that nobody should like Fëanor: that is absolutely not the takeaway here. He remains an endlessly fascinating character, and being interested in his story does not require downplaying the nature and impact of his actions. Fëanor, as the mightiest of the Elves and one of the most complex characters to ever come out of Tolkien's imagination, can easily bear that weight.

It feels fitting to end this post with this quote:

"And [the Valar] mourned not more for the death of the Trees than for the marring of Fëanor: of the works of Melkor one of the most evil... The works of wonder for the glory of Arda that [Fëanor] might otherwise have wrought only Manwë might in some measure conceive." - Of the Sun and Moon and the Hiding of Valinor

[oathofpromises]

We're a team, right? A family. No matter what happens, that is stronger than what ever they can throw at us.

Featuring:@oathofpromises,@valour-bound,@heavenmcde,@destallo

[sydsrichie]

'til queendom come, ch. 3

[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]

aemond targaryen x targaryen oc

wordcount: 8,202

summary: the prince and the lady had loved each other since childhood, and it was plain for all to see. But what had drawn them to each other in the first place - their valour and virtue - threatened to tear them apart as they found themselves on opposing sides of a cruel war.

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical incest, abusive parent/child relationship, nsfw/18+ in later chapters

a/n: all likes, reblogs, replies, tags, asks are massively appreciated and fuel me to keep writing <3

Grey Ghost circled high over Driftmark as he watched the other dragons descend to the beach. He remained skeptical of everyone who wasn’t Sena, and even she could not control him sometimes, so she did not pressure him and let him make a cautious descent to the beach in his own time. Sena gently guided him with her voice to land on the sand above the lapping waves. He found it easy enough to navigate high in the air during the day, as obstacles were stark enough to differentiate against the sky, but closer to the ground and in lower light, it was more of a team effort. Sena did not mind, though, because he was hers and that was all that truly mattered.

Sena leaned forwards onto his neck and slid down to the ground, her hips aching and her legs cramped after the longest ride they had had in years. She smoothed her hand over his stormy scales and murmured “Sȳz, sȳz,” to him. Good, good. The dragonkeepers would hear all about how calm he had been and how he never ignored her commands once. Ever since they went to the capital, he had been improving. She did not think she would ever get a true dragon saddle with chains on to him, which made riding more arduous than it was for the others, but they had gotten as far as a simple leather saddle designed for a draught horse and a tether to keep her from being thrown mid-flight.

The others had witnessed how good he had been, too, which filled her with pride. Further up the beach, at the docks, Helaena and Aegon had landed and were tending to their own mounts as the King’s ship came into harbour. Sena pressed her forehead to Grey Ghost’s neck as one more show of gratitude to him, and he seemed to get it, arching into her and snuffling softly. She left him to go hunting as she made her way back up the beach. There would be no shortage of fish for him on these shores, that was for sure.

As she came back up the beach, she watched Dreamfyre and Sunfyre take to the sky once more, now without their riders and in search of a meal. As she approached, Helaena was smoothing down her overcoat and Aegon looked characteristically bored, ignoring his bride-to-be completely. Not that Helaena seemed to mind. When the Queen had announced the betrothal of brother and sister, Sena had felt horrifically guilty for condemning Helaena to a fate she had been too selfish to bear, but she had also felt an undeniable surge of relief. She crouched down before Helaena and picked up a shell. “It’s from a razor clam,” she said, pressing it in to Helaena’s hands, “remember from Munkun’s Natural World?”

Helaena did not much like being away from her usual setting, that much Sena could tell in the set of her brows and the fidgeting of her hands. But she looked down at the shell, opening it up to trace the pearly insides with her fingertip. “Yes! The ones that can burrow into the sand,” she said, and then frowned, “this one has lost its home.”

Aegon gave her a dirty look. “It’s dead, idiot, not wriggling around without a shell. Probably some seabird pecked it out,” he said.

“Oh,” Helaena said, resolutely avoiding her brother’s eye.

Sena glared at him. “Watch how you speak to her. She’s to be your wife, one day.”

“And who are you to speak to me?” Prince said with a roll of his eyes. “No title, no castle… no parents.”

Sena balled her hands into fists and Helaena quickly grabbed her arm. “Come, Sena, let us greet father from the ship, tell him about our flight,” there was nothing different in her tone than usual, but her soft lilac eyes searched Sena’s imploringly.

Stupid Aegon. If it wouldn’t mean her own head on a spike, she would have kicked him out of the highest window in Maegor’s Holdfast long ago. She let Helaena lead her up the docks before she caused a scene.

“You don’t need to do that, you know,” Helaena said, winding her arm into Sena’s. She was the picture of grace in her fine riding leathers, her platinum hair pleated over one shoulder and her fine wool overcoat the same pale blue as Dreamfyre. It gave her hair and eyes an otherworldly glow, and Sena could see why the smallfolk thought their Valyrian kings and queens to be godlike. 

“Do what, princess?” Sena asked, leaning in to her friend’s warmth in the bracing wind on the docks. She watched as the dock workers reeled in the great ship bearing their house’s dragon banners. The sailors and ship hands were barking orders at each other as they moored the ship in the berth next to another ship with furled banners of black and red - Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor must have arrived already.

“You don’t need to defend me from him,” she said. “He will be my husband one day.”

Sena felt a jolt in her belly. My fault, my fault she thought. Ever since Aemond had confided in her in the Dragonpit, she’d made no small secret of her distaste for the elder prince and the idea of marriage in the presence of the Queen. How she’d despise being ordered around by some foolish husband and how she’d only please herself anyway. She knew she’d likely been out of turn quite often and it had not done much to endear her to the Queen, but it was better to look a wilful and uncontrollable brat now than spend the rest of her life tied to that rotten oaf. It had never occurred to her that Helaena would be Aegon’s next marriage prospect - Sena had two younger sisters after all for the Queen to use to ingratiate herself with Prince Daemon. But it seemed the Hightowers had grown tired of waiting for Daemon’s return from the East. 

Unfortunately for them, no sooner had the ravens gone out announcing Prince Aegon’s betrothal to Helaena than had an invitation to the funeral of Lady Laena Velaryon arrived from Driftmark.

“And he is not wrong,” Helaena continued as the Kingsguard and members of the royal household began to file off of the ship and fill up the dock around them. “I am not… typical.” As if to illustrate the point, she lowered her chin and murmured about a beast beneath the boards into her shoulder.

“Please don’t ever wish to be typical, Helaena. Typical is boring,” Sena pointed out, giving her arm a squeeze. “You’re a Princess of House Targaryen, you ride Dreamfyre, you have a singular mind for the natural world and, most importantly, you are kind. Should your stupid brother-husband ever forget any of it, I will be more than willing to remind him.” She said, patting the hilt of the sword on her belt.

Helaena’s laughter was practically musical, and it made Sena’s chest overflow with warmth. The gods had been good to give her such a sweet girl. What she did to deserve it, she had no idea.

“Princess Helaena! Lady Visenya!” came the booming voice of King Viserys, as he carefully shuffled down the gangplank, followed by his Queen, Prince Aemond and Ser Otto Hightower, the reinstated Hand of the King. The King’s infirmity was progressing with age, and Sena offered her spare arm to him as he set foot on the docks.

“The planks are a little uneven, your Grace! If you take my arm, we can team up to make sure none of us plunge headfirst into the sea,” Sena told her uncle with a smile and Helaena giggled. The King gratefully took her up on the offer, laying a hand on her proffered arm and leaning part of his weight onto her. He was a proud man and no King wanted to look anything but the picture of strength, but to an outsider they would only look like a father sharing his wisdom with his daughter and his ward. 

“Not a drop of seafarer blood amongst us, then? The Velaryons would laugh to see us brought so low,” King Viserys said with a chuckle in his voice.

“I must confess, I’m much better suited to the skies, father,” Helaena said, “I don’t know how you and mother and Aemond manage at sea.”

“Your lady mother was admirable, my girl!” The King said, and Sena kept their pace up the docks slow so he could carefully place his feet. “I guess it comes with being a lady of the greatest port in the west. But your brother and I were more than a little green, I’m afraid.” 

Sena threw her head back in laughter. “What I would give to see Prince Aemond seasick!” She said, and turned her head over her shoulder to see the Prince scowling at her, which only made her laugh more.

“How was your first proper flight, then?” The King asked. “I remember how it used to be, watching the world shrink under the Black Dread’s wings. Nothing like it in the world, is there, girls?”

They recounted their journeys to the King as they steadily climbed the paved path to Driftmark’s gates, keeping an easy pace. Helaena spoke of racing against her brother’s dragon, Sunfyre and feeling the wind in her hair. Sena praised Grey Ghost’s composure. She recounted how he had reached down with his claws and snatched a fish from the water right before her eyes, to the glee of the King.

As they drew closer to the gates, they paused to allow for the portcullis to be drawn up. The King turned to his daughter and said, “Helaena, sweetling, would you please go and fetch your mother? I’d like her by my side when we offer our condolences to Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys.”

Helaena obeyed and went to get her mother from where she was conversing with the Hand. No sooner had she left than the King dipped his head closer to Sena’s so that they might speak with some measure of privacy. “Are you well, my dear?”

“Quite well, your Grace,” Sena said, even as a sense of foreboding started to wrap its fingers around her innards.

Her uncle gave her a kindly smile. “People call your father brave, but I think you get that from your lady mother. She was a tough one.” Sena smiled. In truth, she had next to no memory of her mother, she had been so young when Lady Rhea died. All she knew was the venom that Prince Daemon had for her, which was all she heard anytime she had asked during the little time they spent together on Dragonstone. What was your mother like? A cold-hearted bitch. Now, if you don’t raise your guard like I told you to, I’ll smack you with the broad side of the blade next time. 

“How do you feel about seeing him again, Sena?” The King asked, resting his withered hands upon the top of his cane and watching her expression.

“In all honesty, I’m trying to not think about it, Uncle,” she said, looking anywhere but at the King. She found a chip in one of the battlements atop the walls and fixed her gaze on it in an attempt to distract herself from the sense of foreboding. She wondered if the chip was caused by siege or storm. Had Driftmark ever been sieged? She could not recall. Aemond would know, she should ask Aemond-

“My brother is a hard man to love, my lady, I will not lie. But there is goodness and love in him. He just… sometimes has trouble showing it,” the King rested a hand on her shoulder.

She met his gaze and pursed her lips. He had given his lighter eyes to his children, she noticed for the first time, and Daemon had given his darker eyes to her. “I don’t think he loves me, your Grace. I don’t think he feels anything for me. At least if he hated me, that would be something, but it’s just… pure indifference.”

Viserys sighed. “Then I hope he proves you wrong,” he said, “and if you are right… well, there’s no greater fool in the Seven Kingdoms.”

She gave the King a grateful if somewhat glassy smile and stepped to the side to allow the Queen to take her rightful place at his side. She fell into order behind Aegon, Helaena and Aemond, standing close enough to the back of the younger prince to scuff the bottom of his cloak with her boots.

Aemond turned his head and scrunched up his nose. “We’re here for a funeral, Sena, be serious.”

“Look at me, I’m deadly serious,” she said, waving a hand at her all-black attire. He might have rolled his eyes and turned away, but Sena could tell from the rise of his cheeks that he was smiling.

There was a blast of fanfare, and then the King and Queen were being announced to the assembled Velaryon household in the courtyard. Sena followed in behind the royal family at appropriate distance, and took in the largest gathering of her family she had seen since her father’s second wedding.

The Velaryons were deep in mourning in black garb, but still managed to look regal. Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys were first to greet the King and Queen, then they moved down the line, and King Viserys drew his heir, Princess Rhaenyra into his arms as soon as he was able. Sena’s heart ached to see it. Her eye went down the line, first to Ser Laenor, then to the older man who must be Ser Vaemond, Lord Corlys’ brother, then the familiar sight of Rhaenyra’s curly haired boys. Jace was of a height with her now, but Luke was still round faced and full cheeked, holding little Joffrey up by the hand. Then her eyes fell on two girls with snowy white coils, maybe half her age, that could only be her half-sisters. Baela and Rhaena. She caught them looking at her, and gave them a half smile.

Nowhere to be seen, however, was the person she’d feared seeing most. Maybe he hadn’t come, spurning his own wife’s funeral? Or maybe just spurning the King’s arrival. It must seem arduous to him, she guessed, having to go and stand out in the cold and wind just to greet his brother at the gates. 

“Visenya.”

She was wrong, of course, and the sound of her name when she had not been expecting it caused her to start, spinning around to find the source.

She always remembered her father as a lone creature, setting himself apart from the crowd. In Runestone, he had skulked in the shadows when he was there at all, in a permanent dour mood. On Dragonstone and at court, he always stood alone, equal parts shirked by his peers and having no desire to be counted amongst them in the first place. The same could be said here on Driftmark. While House Velaryon stood dutifully in a line, waiting to greet their King, Prince Daemon lurked in the yard with a sullen expression, leaning against the battlements like this was his own keep.

She felt a lump in her throat, a chill on her spine, and she quickly dipped into a low curtsey, the effect of which was somewhat ruined by her wearing riding leathers rather than a dress. “Father,” she said in a thin, tremulous voice. They were largely ignored in the distant corner of the yard as the two great Valyrian houses of Westeros came together once more. Sena repressed the urge to throw a glance over her shoulder and beg someone, anyone, for help. Gods, even Aegon. She’d happily marry him if he only just came to her rescue right now. “I- I’m sorry. For your loss.”

Prince Daemon was regarding her with an unreadable expression, and showed no sign that he had heard her condolences. He drew closer with a step, and then another, until he was standing over his eldest daughter. After a long and painful moment of silence, he simply said “You’re nearly a woman grown.”

Sena’s throat tightened. How long had it been? Six, seven years? Long enough for the twin girls, Baela and Rhaena to be born and raised. Long enough for everything about Sena to change. He was looking at a stranger, she realised. She opened her mouth, grasping for something to say to that. “Nearly. How are you finding being back in Westeros?”

The corner of the Prince’s mouth twitched upwards into a smirk. “Cold and wet,” he said, and it was enough to turn up the corners of Sena’s mouth. His violet eyes drifted over the battlements and out to sea, to the great grey beast hunting for prey. She realised with an uneasy feeling that he must have watched her arrive. “What is his name?”

Sena drew a shaky breath. “Grey Ghost,” she said, settling her gaze on her loyal friend in an attempt to draw some comfort from him. “He was… quite alone before I found him.”

Prince Daemon sent her a glance. “Before you found each other, sweet girl. Our dragons choose us as much as we choose them,” he counselled and looked back to observe his daughter’s mount. She could feel his calculating gaze taking in every fault and deformity.

“He- he’s slightly blind,” Sena said, her voice croaking in the middle. Better to pre-empt the next question, she guessed. “His vision is good enough to suffice, but it makes him tactile, and his hearing is sharp as a razor.”

Daemon smirked in a way that she could have sworn was approving and put a gloved hand on her shoulder. His hand was of a size with the King’s, but had none of his brother’s warmth. “My own Caraxes is a little… different, shall we say? It’s something to be celebrated. Being different gives us an edge, Visenya. People never quite know what to make of us.”

She’d said something similar to Helaena not an hour before, she realised. She wondered if it was mere coincidence or something deeper. “It’s Sena,” she said before she could stop herself. The Prince raised an eyebrow. “My name,” she repeated, having lost a little of her nerve, “is Sena. That’s what everyone calls me.”

Prince Daemon gave her a strange look. “They’re still calling you that?” He wondered aloud, a little surprised. “Alright. It’s not the name I gave you, but I suppose I gave you a difficult name to bear…” he trailed off, looking distant, and a pit was forming in Sena’s stomach. “Come, Sena. We have a meal to eat… and maybe a little trouble to cause. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?” He said with a smirk.

She couldn’t help but mirror him and give a nod. She knew what the masters and septas said about her behind her back but it was the first time she believed them. Maybe they did have a little in common, after all. 

The hand he placed on her shoulder to guide her back to the larger family felt… strange. Not unwelcome. He was her father, after all, and she saw much of him when she looked at herself in a looking glass. The sisters, too, she thought as she took them in. They had their mother’s darker skin, but Daemon and Sena’s eyes and nose. “Baela is trouble,” Daemon told her in a low voice as they drew closer, “and Rhaena is timid. You’ll learn them apart soon enough.” Their father introduced them with a simple, “Rhaena, Baela, meet Sena, your sister,” and they exchanged awkward hugs. Then, she passed up the line, greeting the young Velaryons warmly and being enveloped into a warm hug by her cousin Rhaenyra.

“She’s a credit to you, Uncle. She has blossomed into the most vibrant young lady over the last years,” Rhaenyra said of Sena, smoothing down her curls.

It was Princess Rhaenys who finally put words to what they were all thinking. “Such a shame you did not witness it, cousin,” she said dryly, eyeing Prince Daemon who sent her icy gaze right back at her.

King Viserys cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, we are all together now! Is anyone as famished as I am?”

Sena was sat with her father and sisters for the evening meal, Baela and Rhaena on one side, heads bowed together as they spoke, and Daemon on the other. He pulled faces and raised his eyebrows when he heard something he didn’t agree with, which was often, and it was enough to make her bite her lip to stop her grin from showing. Until her eye caught Aemond’s, who was watching them with a strange look on his face, and her expression fell. Too gentle, too trusting, his words from the Dragonpit some years ago now had nestled under her skin and made a home there. They were in her mind as her gaze slid back to her father, and she resolved to look at him not through the lens of what she wanted from him, but of what he could want from her. 

When she found the sword and its engraved scabbard nestled on her pillow that night then, it was only confirmation that Prince Daemon was trying to get back into her good graces. But she could not lie and say it was not working. The gifted sword - castle-forged steel, deep grey like her dragon’s scales - was a masterwork. Slim and small enough for her hand, its hilt was studded with a singular ruby that gleamed like dragon flame. The note accompanying it was written in what was presumably her own father’s jagged hand: The King tells me you will one day be my equal as a swordsman. I thought in that case you should have your own Dark Sister. Your father, Daemon. 

Sena could not see herself ever running into her father’s arms in glee, or confiding in him her deepest secrets. He was a viper in the long grass, ready to strike as soon as she misstepped, that much was clear. But if this was what it was to be wooed by Prince Daemon, she thought as she swished the slender blade through the air, maybe she would accept some wooing.

The next day was a procession of solemn ceremony. Sena stood on the shore of Driftmark with her kin and played witness as Laena Velaryon was committed to the waves. Prince Daemon’s expression was predictably unreadable. Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys were impenetrable, hiding their grief behind thick walls, but Ser Laenor was inconsolable. And Lady Laena’s daughters… seeing the little girls so upset was discomfiting. She knew what it was to watch the person who was supposed to be your last defender given back to the earth. Worse, these girls had truly known their mother, been held by her and rocked to sleep. Sena spent the whole ceremony following along with her intermediate knowledge of High Valyrian and trying to find a comforting word for her sisters. 

The coffin was cast into the water and Lady Laena was entombed at sea. One by one, the gathered mourners began to leave the shore, leaving the family to say their final goodbyes. Sena took the opportunity to go up to the little girls, aware of the Princess Rhaenys watching her carefully. It seemed the Princess had not yet decided if her dislike of Prince Daemon extended to the daughter of his first marriage. She pushed all that from her mind, though, and focused on her sisters.

“You do not know me,” she said quietly, “but I lost my mother, too.” Her mouth was dry as the two young girls took her in, holding onto each other like their survival depended on it. Right now, it probably felt like it did. “Nothing anyone can say will make it better… but you will get better at living with it.” She took their gloved hands in hers and gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

The less timid of the two, Baela said a quiet “Thank you, sister,” and Sena nodded before turning and leaving them to grieve. When she turned back to the dunes, she caught her father watching her with a strange expression. He did not say or do anything, just turned on his heel and left. Sena repressed a sigh and pulled up her black skirts to help her across the sand back to the Keep.

Throughout the day, she stayed close to her father, Princess Rhaenyra, Baela and Rhaena. At a time like this, with tensions high between the two sides of her family, she knew it would not do to be seen to be associating with the wrong people. She was grateful to be largely ignored, however. It felt strange to mourn at the funeral of a woman she never truly knew. Her father had stiffly introduced his new wife to Sena on their wedding day years ago, and the Lady Laena was undoubtedly a kind and gracious woman. But there was clear agony on the faces of all those around her - Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, Baela and Rhaena, Ser Laenor - and Sena could claim no part of it. So she kept to one side, talking in hushed tones with Jace and Luke, and tried not to get in the way.

Later, once the solemn proceedings of the day were complete and she was back in her guest room, she heard a knock at the door. She braced herself, preparing for some stilted interaction with her sisters, or some cryptic musings from her father, but she let out a sigh of relief when she saw it was Aemond.

He gestured to his sword belt - he had been deemed skilled and mature enough to wear true steel a whole two years younger than Aegon had. “Shall we? You’re the only one here who is halfway decent.”

Sena gave him a wry smile - she knew by now he had a dry sense of humour - and went to pull on her boots, grateful for having already changed into breeches. At the door, she paused, looking between the plain steel sword she had brought with her, and the gift from her father. She grabbed the latter - better to get a feel for it as soon as she could, and she liked the idea of swinging a finer weapon if she was to spar with a prince.

Aemond led her outside to the training yard and threw his cloak over a wooden post. Then, he looked back to her and his lavender eyes caught on the ruby-studded cross guard of her sword. “Where did you get that?” He asked, his tone somewhere between intrigued and incensed.

Sena smirked and drew the blade from its scabbard. It comfortably fit her hand, but was a little too long for now, so she had to steady it with a two-handed grip. No matter, she would grow into it. “A gift from my father, modelled after Dark Sister. Fine, is it not?”

Aemond huffed - she’d seen him tracing sketches of the ancestral blade in his books covetously. But his discomfited expression went past jealousy and it occurred to her that he might be wondering if she’d so easily let her father buy back her loyalty. Instead of asking, he just said “Let us see if you know how to use it.”

And just like that, he was raining blows down on her, and she had to parry extensively so she may survive the first ten seconds of the bout. After he’d lost his element of surprise, they fell into a more exacting dance. Even with the two being of age with each other, Aemond had the height and strength advantages on account of his sex. But Sena was used to fighting taller, stronger boys and made good use of her nimble feet, less often meeting Aemond’s blows than she would dance out of the way of them. A lesser swordsman would get frustrated and careless, or lose their temper and demand she stand and fight, but Aemond merely bided his time and conserved his stamina. He became light on his feet so he might dodge her darting attacks, and any slip on her part was met with exacting force. Their score stayed even for the first little while, as he adapted to Sena and she stayed sprightly on her feet. But after awhile, as they began to tire, Aemond’s superior training shone through, and he was knocking Sena on her arse or catching her with his blade at her neck.

“Not fair,” she grumbled when she finally gave in. Part of being an only child had meant she’d never learned how to lose. “You’re trained by Ser Criston Cole, meanwhile I have to steal training dummies to have a partner to practice with.”

Aemond grinned as he sheathed his sword. “If it were up to me, you’d be my training partner. You’re better than my nephews. You’re as good as Aegon, and he’s older and twice your size.”

“You should teach me,” she told Aemond, eyeing him seriously. “I’ll only be able to keep up with you if you help me, teach me what Ser Criston Cole teaches you.”

He considered her for a second, mulling the idea over in his head. “Come with me,” he said, jerking his head towards the stone steps that led up to the battlements.

She raised an eyebrow but acquiesced, sheathing her own blade and following him up to the walkway. The dying daylight bathed everything in a soft orange glow, and she had to shield her eyes against the glare. Once there, he hoisted himself up onto the battlements and helped her climb up behind him. It was a struggle for her, as the battlements were a little too high and she felt her breeches scuffing on the rough sandstone, but then she was up and gazing out over the isle of Driftmark with him. It was the opposite side of the keep from where they had landed the dragons and Sena had yet to see it properly. “What are we looking at?” She asked.

“Just a second,” he said, studying the rolling dunes with intensity. Then, he raised a hand and pointed. “There!”

She followed his line of sight and eventually landed on an ancient creature nestled between the sand dunes that she faintly remembered stalking Dragonstone on her father’s second wedding day. Vhagar was a mighty beast who made the ground shake with her steps and could blot out the sun with her wings. Her first rider had been the original Visenya Targaryen, who conquered the Seven Kingdoms with her siblings. The true Visenya Targaryen, Sena’s treasonous mind suppled. The name had always felt like a heavy, ill-fitting mantle on her shoulders, one that she avoided wearing when she could. “Vhagar?”

“If I teach you to fight,” Aemond said, watching her with an intensity that she had grown to expect from him, “will you teach me how to claim a dragon?”

Her mouth fell open. “Aemond,” she hissed, “you cannot mean to claim Vhagar. She could swallow you whole without a thought!”

Aemond scowled at her. “Thank you for your faith in me, Sena,” he said.

“I-“ she began, then cut off, trying to think of what to say. “I’m sorry. I just… you are dear to me, Aemond, and I don’t want this insecurity claiming your life.”

“Being a dragonrider is my destiny, Sena. My birthright. You said it yourself,” he said with a frown.

“And we don’t always get our birthright,” she snapped. “It is not worth dying to try and force the hand of the Gods. It will happen when it is meant to.”

He gave her a considering look. “Alright,” he said, “but maybe I just want to be ready when it does happen.”

She sighed. He had that tightness in his jaw and that set of his shoulders that meant his mind was made up, and there was no use in arguing with him when that happened. Singularly stubborn and wilful - common traits in this wretched family, she thought. “The dragonkeepers have taught you all of this, you know the commands,” she said.

“Dragonkeepers are not dragonriders,” he said, reaching across the gap between them and laying a firm hand on her own clasped ones. “We are the only family left in the world who can mount dragons and bend them to our will. I want to hear it from you.”

Sena looked at where their hands met, her stomach doing an odd twist inside of her, and then back up to meet his gaze. “Okay, but if you get your head ripped off by some rogue dragon-“

He laughed. “You’re one to lecture about approaching rogue dragons. Didn’t you find Grey Ghost in a cave stinking of rotten fish?”

She rolled her eyes. “I knew he would be mine and I would be his from the first moment I saw him. That kind of feeling, that kind of certainty… overtakes any unpleasant odours.”

It was enough to make him laugh again, but she couldn’t say she minded. “It’s all about soothing them the first time you approach them. Let them know you’re not a threat and you know their tongue. You’re closer to their kin than any other living person and you need to remind them of that,” she told him, and he followed her every word with that serious manor of his. “And then, once you’re on… your first time riding a dragon isn’t about speed or finesse or manoeuvres. It’s about not dying. The beast is testing you, Aemond, testing whether you are worthy of calling yourself its rider. The only thing you must do that first time is hold on.”

His eyes flitted out nervously to the shoreline and the great beast that lurked there. “What if they’re too big to just hold on? Too strong?”

Sena could practically hear him thinking of Vhagar and how grand he would be if he was her rider. How no one would ever dare laugh at him again. But this was more important than pride and snide comments. She reached out and put a hand under his chin, turning his gaze back to hers firmly. “Then you have chosen wrongly and nothing can save you. You don’t get to back out once you’re on, Aemond. Your choices are ride or die.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. He looked like he was searching for words when a third voice interrupted.

“Children? There you are,” it was Aemond’s mother, the Queen. She came to a pause before them and gave them an odd look, Sena still gripping Aemond by the chin. “What’s going on? What are you two conspiring about?” 

The young girl cleared her throat and dropped her grip on the Prince, feeling heat blossom in her cheeks as Aemond sharply shuffled away from her. “Just how we’ll best Sir Criston on the training yard the morrow,” Sena said quickly. Aemond gave her a grateful look - Sena knew his mother well enough to know that talk of him being thrown from dragonback would be enough for her to lock him in his room and throw away the key.

“Such a fierce maid you are, Lady Visenya,” Queen Alicent remarked. She didn’t seem to quite believe them, judging by the tilt of her brow, but she thankfully chose not to pry. Sena was grateful to notice that ‘fierce’ did not sound like an insult coming from the Queen. Other ladies of the court might have sneered, but the Queen sounded genuinely impressed with her. “You will one day need an even fiercer lord husband to be your match.” 

The comment filled Sena with joy until she caught sight of Aemond, who had visibly bristled. “A bride of House Targaryen is entitled to a royal husband, mother, not a mere lord,” he pointed out with firmness in his tone.

The Queen’s eyes darted between her son and her niece, and she gave a smile that Sena could have sworn was almost self-satisfied. “Of course, my prince. How silly of me,” she said with a glint in her eyes. “Now come. Fierce ladies and bold princes need to be well rested for the journey home tomorrow.”

Sena looked at Aemond and they both sighed, swinging their legs back over the battlements to follow his lady mother back into the keep. He helped her down from the high wall and then he and his mother escorted Sena back to her chambers.

Sena gripped his hand the entire way, willing him not to be foolish.

She would have been as well willing the sun to rise in the west and set in the east.

It was her sisters’ hushed voices and creeping footsteps that woke her during the hour of the wolf. Right past her door, she heard Rhaena whispering something about her mother’s dragon, her dragon, and Sena’s stomach sank with dread. She hurriedly rose, pulled on her boots, threw a cloak over her nightgown and slipped out into the chilled hallway, careful not to let her door bang shut behind her. Baela and Rhaena had collected Jace and Luke, it seemed from their ajar doorways. Distant footsteps were descending the spiral staircase.

Sena hurried to keep up, but was careful to keep her distance. Her sisters did not trust her, that much was clear in their going to wake Jace instead of her. In truth, they had little reason to. All they knew of her was that they shared a father and she’d been raised at court with Aemond and Helaena, so she was like to not side with them if Aemond had done something wrong. Gods, what has he done? She wondered as she hurried down the twisting stairs.

The other children were nowhere to be seen in the silent entrance hall and the only sounds were the sconces crackling on the walls, flooding the room with gloomy light. She cursed the other children knowing their grandfather’s keep better than she did. She stopped for a moment to think. If something had befallen Aemond - she wrung her hands at the thought - and it was Vhagar who was involved, she needed to get down to the beach on the north side of the keep. That was where she had seen Vhagar coiled the evening before. So, she would follow the passageway down to the caverns that opened out onto the rocks on the shore. With a jagged breath, she steeled herself, and took the passage to the right which led to an unfinished path downwards. Gods, should she have taken her sword? She felt naked without it but it was a foolish thought. What did she intend to do after all, duel Vhagar? Even on dragonback she’d have no chance against the massive beast. Vhagar could have taken Grey Ghost’s head with a single bite.

As smooth flagstones gave way to uneven, rough-hewn rock, Sena braced herself against the cool, damp walls and listened intently. She could hear shouts.

“She was mine to claim!”

“Then you should have claimed her,” Aemond’s voice was cold but he was very much alive. Relief washed over Sena, but it was short lived, as she heard howls of fury and the thumps of landed blows. She picked up the pace, her heart in her throat.

“Bastards!” She heard Aemond call, and she was running now, down endless winding passageways with disorientating forks and turns. Gods be good, where were they?

At long last, the children came into view. Her sisters were in their spoiled nightgowns, with blood streaming down their faces, and Jace was grappling with Aemond, throwing sand in his eyes so the older boy would drop the rock in his hand. And Luke-

Luke.

Sena saw the dagger in his hand at the last moment.

“Aemond!” She howled in desperate warning, but it was no use.

The little boy slashed his arm upwards in a savage arc, and Aemond fell to the ground screaming.

Sena’s head spun, her world gone grey for a moment as Aemond fell, clutching the side of his face. Blood flowed like a river breaking its banks. Visions of Sena’s mother swam before her eyes, being carried into Runestone on a stretcher, a maester trying desperately to staunch the heavy bleeding from the back of her skull. Her first memory, and her only one of her mother. The one she tried not to think about, ever.

Aemond was writhing in agony, the other children frozen in place as much as Sena, with no clue what to do. Something. She needed to do something. Her vision righted itself, settling back onto its true axis, and Sena lurched into action.

She ran forwards and fell at Aemond’s side, throwing off her cloak and picking up the blood soaked dagger that Lucerys had dropped. She surveyed her soft cotton nightgown raised the dagger to her shoulder. This should be the cleanest part. “Sena!” Jace said in horror, but she drove the point through the seam at her shoulder and managed to avoid all but a simple graze to her skin. With the new hole to grip, she wrenched the sleeve of her nightgown from its seam, and wadded the ripped cotton against Aemond’s face.

Aemond was still screaming and sobbing, and his hands wrapped around her wrists, trying to push her away and defend himself. “Aemond! It’s me! It’s Sena,” she said, keeping pressure on the wound but wishing she could spare a hand to smooth down his hair and soothe him. He seemed to understand though, and gripped her wrists tighter but no longer pushing her away. 

“Jace! Get the maester!” She whipped her head around and saw her cousin’s eldest boy standing stock still, taking in the scene with a grey tinge to his face. “Jace!” She demanded, and he at last turned his soft brown eyes away from Aemond’s wound to her. “Get the maester,” she gritted out. He hesitated once more, looking to his little brother. “If he dies, Jace, I’ll never forgive you.” She didn’t know where the words came from within her, but they washed over her with a cold finality.

That finally set Jacaerys into motion, and he raced back up the passage. Aemond whimpered under her hands, which were now stained with blood. “Shh,” she murmured, “it’s okay, Aemond. You’re going to be okay. Keep looking at me. Keep looking at me.”

There was a flurry of kingsguard and maesters and it all began to blur together as the fire in Sena’s veins subsided. At some point, she was shoved off of Aemond, still gripping her blood-soaked wad of cotton, and the maesters hurried to staunch the blood flow with powders and pressure. Once they’d stopped the worst of the bleeding, Aemond was brought up to the great hall on a stretcher, and Sena followed numbly behind. The adults were already gathering, woken by the guards, whispering in harried tones. The sound that left Queen Alicent’s lips when she saw her second son - a sort of strangled scream - was like to be one that Sena would remember for the rest of her life.

The maesters set to stitching Aemond’s wound closed, from brow to cheek, but Sena did not need to be a healer to know there was nothing to be done for his eye. Once the colour of the hazy hour before sunrise, it was now reduced to a mess of pulp and gore. She looked down at the dried blood on her hands, flaking off like rust, and the smell made her insides churn.

“You did well, my lady,” a maester said in a soft tone. “Clean material, firm pressure, quick thinking. If you were a lad, you could have been a good maester.”

It was of little comfort to her as she watched Aemond’s remaining eye roll in agony, the curved needle digging in and out of his flesh.

Helaena hurried in at that moment and turned pale at the sight of her little brother with the maester working on him. Her hands shook. “It’s okay, Helaena, he’s going to be okay,” Sena croaked, making to reach for her before remembering herself and the crust of blood on her own hands. Helaena looked at her, her lower lip trembling, then went to seize one of the bowls of fresh water that the servants were bringing up to clean up the wounds on the others. She cleaned Sena’s hands gently with a strip of repurposed bed linen, and it was so kind a gesture that Sena felt herself crying. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Helaena gave her a watery smile.

It was to be a long night. A long night of raised voices and fury and hatred, but Sena stayed at Aemond’s side, not saying a word. The Queen spun around them all like a storm, first turning on Aegon, then Jace and Luke, finally settling a wild fury on Rhaenyra. Princess Rhaenys held her granddaughters to her body protectively and King Viserys was belligerent, demanding the truth. The children shouted and screamed over each other to be heard.

All except for Sena. She stayed still and quiet, threading her fingers through Aemond’s, and tried to force down the nausea in her stomach. But when she looked up and caught her father’s eye, she could have sworn she was going to be sick. Her father was watching her from the doorway, his hair and clothing dishevelled. He took it all in with a lazy sort of interest, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. Was he enjoying this?

Sena did her best to block it all out, block out the shouting and raging, but the world seemed to spin once more out of control when the Queen rushed at Princess Rhaenyra with a blade raised high.

“Alicent!” The King cried and there were horrified exclamations and rushing footsteps. Aemond staggered to his feet. Sena’s stomach rolled.

The dagger fell, opening Princess Rhaenyra from elbow to wrist. Blood oozed, the refreshed scent of it hitting Sena with force. Aemond went to the Queen. “Do not mourn me, mother,” he said with a rasp. “It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.”

Sena dug her teeth into her tongue to keep herself from crying out.

The King was at his wit’s end and ordered everyone from the hall and back to bed, but the tension lay too thick and the crackling fires were heating the room to a fever pitch. The gathered lords and ladies seemed to part down the middle, like water and oil. 

Prince Daemon had stepped forward from the shadows now and taken his niece’s arm in his grasp, examining the wound. It was a cut, Sena wanted to say. The Princess has been cut, but Aemond has lost an eye, she wanted to scream. Her father levelled a chilling look at the Queen and Prince Aemond. Then his eyes fell on his eldest daughter. “Sena,” he beckoned.

For the first time, she looked around and saw herself surrounded by a sea of people who did not consider her one of them. Lord Larys Strong, Ser Otto Hightower, Ser Criston Cole, the Queen’s ladies in waiting and members of her household. All people who looked at her and only saw Prince Daemon’s seed. It seemed she did not belong on this side, despite having never chosen a side to begin with. She loved her family, she loved them all. She no more wanted to see Luke wounded in vengeance than she wished to see Aemond go on disfigured. But she was a single droplet of oil in the water. Now her father was calling her to heel, like a dog.

She stiffened, her jaw gone tight. She looked between her father, Princess Rhaenyra, the Queen and Aemond. All were staring at her. All waiting to see what she would do. Which colour she would cloak herself in.

“Visenya,” her father barked. He was not a patient man.

She looked to Aemond who was still enveloped in his mother’s embrace.

She went to her father’s side.

Daemon snapped his fingers at one of the maesters and had him attend to the Princess’s arm, while Rhaenyra did her best to quiet and soothe her boys. Queen Alicent and her supporters started to dissipate around them, sensing this was to go no further tonight. Sena dared not look up and try to catch Helaena or Aemond’s gaze again. She just stood still and wrapped her arms around herself. Her sisters and the Velaryons gave her a wide berth.

Once Rhaenyra’s arm was stitched closed and it was apparent that there was to be no more bloodshed tonight, the Princess’s faction dispersed too. 

Sena was sent to bed without a word, and when her door closed behind her, she finally emptied her stomach into her chamber pot.

[owlhead650]

This is Asopo's Terajuma design. He takes off his rain jacket and puts the black shirt and swimming togs on. The black and pink shirt is meant to be a symbol of mourning over Nancy. The sun on his head starts to bother him so he puts on a strawhat that's not a reference to anything. The blue vest is based off the one that Crawli and the rangers wear. The idea is that he gets it after doing the challenges in Crawli's gym. I found it really funny how everyone kept going on about how Asopo beat Madame X at blacksteeple. He was rather frightened by the big dramatic wanted posters for himself and Melia, but then he wasn't as frightened when he saw that Valerie was a Lapras for some reason. Despite finding that amusing in a bleak sense Asopo felt rather resentful towards team Xen at this point. He had little sympathy for anything members of the group went through until he saw Sharon on Mt. Valour and saw her get pushed to her death. (Even though Saki caught her.)

Hearing Crescent say aloud the awful things he was thinking about team Xen and its members struck a nerve with him. Thinking that it would be best if they all just disapeared and that they deserve the same suffering they inflicted on others. Asopo realised how dark those thoughts were when he saw the reality of it

This arc was when he caught Spiorad the Aevian Froslass. He took a quick liking to Amber and Tesla partly because Amber subconsciously reminded him of Zorina from his previous life. Also because after Tesla offered the room to him he took a couple hours to process it and then cried in the corner for an hour afterwards. He's all about rain but he'd love a sunny day in Terajuma if it's with the two of them.

In general my Asopo lore is just my headcanons and interpretations of Pokemon Rejuvenation's interceptor.