#i remember dragon ball differently

[loreofthefritz]

Buu saga sucks but i like whatever Buu and Mr. Satan had going on. Good for them good for them

[growingstrong30]

Toriyama has really missed the opportunity of addressing Vegeta’s past during Frieza.

We have Granolah trying to get revenge from the Saiyans, that’s true. But what about someone coming exclusively for Vegeta?

We’ve seen Jaco already knew his name and who he was and decided to run away. Vegeta is just that scary.

And now he is one of the good guys. Even the Galactic Patrol gave him a medal as if he were not a homicidal man with far too many bodies on his account.

Imagine the drama that would unfold: he getting accountable for his own mistakes. He can’t really blame them for wanting revenge and he’s not one to ask for forgiveness. Goku would fight for his friend but he’s also getting strangled thoughts of what’s the right thing to do.

And what about his family? Bulma knows what he is capable of but his children?!! Are they paying the price for their father’s mistakes?

Also there’s a lot of drama regarding Frieza. We’ve seen Geets already feeling guilty for his wrongdoings. He knows a lot of them were orders from the purple lizard and if he refused he would have died right there on the spot but that’s the thing: he never refused. Sometimes he even went willingly to fulfill those orders. Heck, he would kill people just because it pleased him.

It would get us right into Vegeta’s most inner thoughts and certainly into a character development for the main cast as they are confronted with their own morals. He has such a rich and interesting story that it’s a shame is not being addressed.

[orphanedwolfandfriends]

I love you guys and our stupidity, that's my wholesome message of the year.

[supercutszns]

a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

[mayaree-darling]

Water... Connoisseur?// Neuvillette

synopsis: Neuvillette shares his love for water tasting with the Creator (ft. Paimon and the Traveler)

from aree: this was supposed to be a short funny little thing but as always i can’t keep my mouth shut and now this is 17 pages long

content: Creator!Reader; smol spoiler(?) for and inspired by Neuvillette's story quest and profile/voice over; Reader and the Traveler (and Paimon) have Siblings Energy; I headcanon that the Traveler can see their inventory the way us players can; Pure Crack; Probably OOC Neuvillette

fic length: ~5.3k 

You are the Creator of Teyvat, spending time with the Traveler, Paimon, and Neuvillette. At one point, the Iudex offers for the four of you to take a break in his office and he'll fetch you some refreshments. Almost immediately, you see from the corner of your eye the Traveler and Paimon stutter out that they'll get the drinks themselves, but it's too late. You didn't see what was wrong with Neuvillette offering something to drink - if anything, you're curious to know what kind of drink he'd prepare for his guests. This was your first time tasting what Fontaine had to offer. So you let him go. 

When Neuvillette leaves the room, the traveling duo beside you share a heavy sigh. You turn to them and ask what's wrong. They share a meaningful look. You'll see, they say.

Eventually, Neuvillette comes back rolling a small food trolley in front of him. On top are four silver pitchers and four goblets. Paimon sheepishly laughs, "Here we go."

You step forward - because it's clear to you Traveler and Paimon have no plans on taking initiative - and Neuvillette motions to the pitchers. 

"Each one is from a different nation. I hope that you'll find at least one of them to your tastes, Your Grace. I assure you they are all of high quality, although I have no doubt of it since they are a part of your creation, after all. Personally, I can't say I favor one over the other. I find each one particularly special in its own way, so I must apologize if I cannot give you a recommendation." 

You frown. You... made them? You don't remember something about creating a drink for each nation. Was this a recipe from your old life that only a dragon sovereign could remember? The Traveler clears their throat and mumbles something under their breath. You turn to them questioningly and you watch bemused as their mouth ticks up at the corners.

"It's water." The Traveler looks at everything in the room before their eyes land on you.

You blink. "Excuse me?"

"Haha.. It's just water... The drinks..." If Paimon was standing on solid ground, you think she would be bouncing on the balls of her feet, her arms behind her. When she meets your eyes, she lets out a sheepish laugh. "That's what Neuvillette means by they're from every nation. They're... spring water from different places."

You slowly look at the Traveler and Paimon in turn, hoping for a deeper explanation or for them to tell you they were pulling your leg, but both of them refuse to look you in the eye. Your mouth is opened to a permanent gasp of understanding as you turn back to the food trolley in front of you.

Oh...

"Is there something wrong, Your Grace?" You almost regret looking at Neuvillette. Although he doesn't usually show his emotions, it's almost like he can't help but show you how dejected he looks. To put it simply, it felt like you kicked an otter to the curb, sad puppy eyes and everything. You half expect it to start raining outside that instant. "I can arrange for the Melusine to make something else, if you'd like. I'm sure they'd be honored to -"

"NO! No. It's okay. It's fine, Neuvillette. Thank you for the offer, but it's fine." You shoot a frown at the duo, who have taken to plastering themselves on one of the many sofas in the room, intent on letting you handle the water situation. You breathe in and take a step forward, taking one of the goblets. "You said each one is special, right? I'm sure they'll taste... nice..."

You pointedly ignore the Traveler as they grumble once more (you pretend you didn't just hear Paimon say "no it won't"). You look at each of the pitchers and pretend to be thinking hard about your choice. It's kind of hard to make a choice now that you know they're all just water. Your only saving grace is you know where they came from.

"I think I'll start off with... Sumeru!" Neuvillette all but beams at your decision and picks up the selected pitcher. You're glad he did because you didn't know which was which. You pray to Nahida that you didn't make a bad choice (the God of Wisdom has yet to fail you since your descent and you hope that she has your back this time, too.) Holding out your goblet, you watch as Neuvillette fills the cup half way, almost hoping there's a telltale sign of a difference (or it's a different drink altogether).

It's just water.

"A wonderful choice, Your Grace. This particular water comes from Apam Woods of Sumeru. You'll find the taste to be rich and complex. Despite usually having to take the time to savor it to fully appreciate it, I'm sure Your Grace will have no problem distinguishing its special flavor, which is unlike any other."

Did he have to put the pressure on you like that? 

You laugh sheepishly as you fight to give Neuvillette your best thankful smile. Taking back the goblet, you stare at your drink, deciding your best bet was to examine it if you were going to "savor" it. Maybe it was a different color? No, it's still translucent in nature. Swirling it a few times, it doesn't appear to have a thicker viscosity as it sloshes around your cup. As for the smell it was- 

Wait. Huh?

"It's fragrant," you mumble. Only when you hear yourself clearly do you realize the room is silent. Looking up, you see Neuvillette staring at you, and behind you, even the Traveler and Paimon have taken an interest in your exchange. All eyes are trained on you, watching your reaction. You look back to Neuvillette as he lets out a hum.

"It's... fragrant? I must say, even I have never thought to discern its smell. For a moment, please," Neuvillette steps forward and takes a goblet for himself, pouring water from the same pitcher. He pulls the goblet up to his nose. "Hmm. As I thought. It seems I am unable to smell this fragrance you speak of. How interesting."

"Wait. If you can smell it..." You turn to Paimon as she looks at the Traveler. When they look at you, their eyes are expectant.

Surely, you can...?

Looking at Neuvillette, he gives you an encouraging nod. You raise the goblet to your lips and take a tentative sip. And then another. And then... another? You lower the goblet, and then turn to the Traveler.

"It tastes like flowers." You know you and the Traveler share the same incredulous look. You can just feel the disbelief and confusion pulling at your face. Looking at Paimon, she's just as confused, head in her little hands. "When I focus on it, it's floral. Kind of like... tea? Like herbal tea, just less strong. It could even be perfume."

"Marvelous," you look at Neuvillette, and it's clear to you he does not sense the growing bewilderment you and the other two are going through. He smiles at you softly, and you don't have the heart to tell him that water isn't supposed to have a flavor. "I don't seem to recall anyone else sharing my taste for water. But I must say - even I am unable to perfectly put a name or a description to the flavor I experience. It's almost always a feeling."

"WAIT! Waitwaitwaitwait! I wanna try, too!" Paimon rushes to your side and takes your goblet in her hands, ready to drink it. You hear Neuvillette clear his throat and turn to him as he fills the other two goblets with Sumeru water. Paimon lets go of your goblet and goes to take one for herself. You see the Traveller stand up and grab one too. "Is it different from the one we had before? Wait, but it's from the Apam Woods, too..."

The Traveler and Paimon take a big gulp at the same time, licking their lips and savoring the taste before eventually they click their tongues in unison.

"Nope." The Traveler laughs, almost amused and defeated at the same time.

"Nothing's different. It's the same water as last time!" Paimon stomps her little feet in the air. "Are you pulling Paimon's leg?"

"Of course not. However, I am curious. If it is fine with Your Grace, I would love to hear more about what you can taste," If you were honest, you didn't want any more of the spotlight on you - being the Creator, you've had enough of that. But Neuvillette seemed so happy in the moment you couldn't possibly refuse him. 

"Well, besides smelling and tasting like flowers," you take a sip, letting it roll on your tongue. "It also has this sort of herby aftertaste? But only when I focus on it. Kind of like basils? Or rosemary? I can't tell you for sure what kind, but it kind of tastes like that."

When you turn back to them, you're surprised to see Neuvillette looking at you in confusion. Did you say something wrong?

"He doesn't know what those are, dummy," The Traveler sighs. You watch as they take a metal shaker out from their inventory and start preparing a drink of their own. Paimon watches on, excited of drinking something that wasn't just water. "They don't have those here in Teyvat, remember?"

"Traveler, I implore you to watch your words. Was it necessary to call Your Grace as such?" Neuvillette frowns. 

The Traveler shrugs and you both share a secretive smile. "They prefer that over 'Your Grace', though."

Neuvillette turns to you with concern. "Is-is that true, Your Grace? Why would you prefer that name? I can't quite say I agree with that decision but- "

"It's fine, Neuvillette. I forgot you didn't know any of those herbs, so I'm sorry for that. Just know the water tastes like it has a bit of herbs or spice to it." You shake your head with a laugh, thinking of a way to change the subject. "Anyway, can I taste the other ones?"

Neuvillette almost visibly lights up at that and takes another of the pitchers, filling your emptied goblet with more water.

"This one is from Inazuma's Konda Village. For its mouthfeel, I find it quite placid." Neuvillette looks at you expectantly. You're reminded again of a puppy, or in his case, an otter. A very cute otter. As you put the goblet to your lips, you have half a mind to gift him a seashell.

You take a sip and almost immediately spit it out. In an instant, Neuvillette is by your side, throwing the goblet halfway across the room. Before you realize it, you're in his arms and he has half a mind to bolt out the room to get you to a healer until you stop him.

"WAIT! Wait, Neuvi, just calm down-" you descend into a coughing fit.

"Your Grace! What's wrong? Is it poison? Were you poisoned?! Oh no, Paimon can't look-" 

"That's preposterous. I prepared the drinks myself," he says that, but Neuvillette talks like he's suddenly doubting himself. 

"You sure you don't need to get healed?" the Traveler frowns in concern, turning your face this way and that, looking for signs of poisoning.

You shake your head again and swallow down another cough, clearing your throat. "No, no, I don't need a healer. I wasn't poisoned. I just wasn't expecting to suddenly take a shot of sparkling water." 

The Traveler blinks, there's a pause as it sinks in, and suddenly they stand up and head back to the food trolley. They pick up the shaker they unceremoniously left when everyone panicked and resumed making their drink.

"Traveler, are you gonna make medicine for the Creator?" Paimon floats around you in concern. 

"You guys can stop panicking. They're not gonna die," the Traveler sighs and looks at you with a face that can only be described as 'Are you for reals.' "I think they were just surprised with how the water tasted."

You motion for Neuvillette to let you down, which he does albeit very hesitantly. You merely laugh at the concern on his face and give him a pat on the back to reassure him that no, the Creator was not going to die on his watch just because of a bad drink of water. 

The Iudex frowns hard looking at the pitcher of Inazuman water. "You called it... sparkling water? Pardon me if I'm wrong, but am I to assume water from Inazuma has different visual properties? Does Your Grace see something we are unable to? And if so, does this difference have an effect on the taste?" 

You shake your head again for what seemed like the thousandth time, before you stop and think about it for a second. You head to the food trolley and pick up Paimon's empty cup. Pouring Inazuman water from the pitcher, you watch as normal looking water fills the goblet. The normal fizzle of bubbles you expect from a carbonated drink is not present, even as you swirl it around. 

Before Neuvillette can stop you, you take a sip of it again. You hear him stifle a gasp. His hand is on your shoulder, ready to bring you to Sigewinne at record speed if needed. But you weren't mistaken - it really does taste like sparkling water. Weird. You turn to Neuvillette and try to look as reassuring as possible.

"So, back from... where I came from, we have this drink called sparkling water. It's not that it was particularly, uh, sparkly, but it did have a lot of bubbles. The water from Inazuma here looks like regular water, but it does feel like sparkling water in your mouth," you explain slowly. The look of doubt doesn't leave Neuvillete's face. "It's also not deadly for us, just like how this water isn't. I mean, you like drinking it, right? That means it's fine for consumption." 

He visibly eases up at your words. He reluctantly lets go of your shoulder with a shaky exhale. You kinda feel bad for making him so worried. Eventually, you watch as he calms down from the panic earlier and suddenly he's back to his stoic self, unable to resist his interest in your water tasting experience.

"So this so-called sparkling water... what does it feel like? May you explain? I'm afraid I cannot quite imagine it." Neuvillette looks to be deep in thought and you laugh softly. He really was into water tasting. 

"Oh? Paimon thinks Mondstadt has something similar."

The Traveler pauses from taking a sip of their new drink - Boreal Watch, you remember it's called - before opening their inventory. They scroll through a list of ingredients before taking out a single bottle. The bubbling liquid is a familiar sight. "They call it Fizzy Water. I used it to make drinks at Angel's Share once. Feel free to drink this, Monsieur Neuvillette. Master Diluc gave it as a freebie."

Neuvillette takes the bottle with a nod of thanks. He examines the packaging for a moment, pops the bottle open and takes a swig. There's a pregnant pause before he turns his back to you, takes his goblet and spits out the drink into it out of your line of sight. The three of you don't have to look at each other to know the expression the others have; Paimon sounds like she's close to tears from holding in her laughter. 

When Neuvillette turns to you again, you give him a small smile, ready to comfort him, before he drops to his knee in front of you. You try to pull him up by his arms but he just holds on to your hands.

"Your Grace, please allow me to apologize for making you go through that."

"H-hey, I didn't mind you literally spitting it out, come on now, I basically did the same thing if not worse-"

"No. Not that, Your Grace. I also apologize for that, yes, but I refused to swallow that drink down no matter the cost." He's staring at you dead in the eyes and he looked so serious it was unnerving. "I'm apologizing for letting you drink the water from Inazuma. Had I known that is what you would experience, I would have skipped offering it to you as a refreshment." 

"Please stand up. Don't worry about it. It's not that big of a deal," you pull on his arms again and he doesn't resist, standing back up. "I told you it's a normal drink from where I'm from, right? I was just shocked because I wasn't expecting it."

"Do you mean..." Neuvillette visibly cringes, much to your amusement. "People from your old land... like? To drink it? How... eccentric."

"So do those from Mondstadt, Monsieur Neuvillette," you turn to the Traveler in disbelief that they'd say that right now, but all they give you back is a devious grin peeking from atop their cup as they take another sip. "Dawning Dew was a bestseller."

Paimon clears her throat as she collects herself. "It's kind of funny that Neuvillette can't feel the fizziness when he's drinking? He said that he can feel what he drinks, not taste it. Paimon wonders what's up with that."

"What's Konda Village water like for you, again?" you hum.

"If I had to put a word to it," Neuvillette thought about it for a second. "Placid."

"Placid? That's one way to describe something." Paimon shrugs. 

"Yes, that was how I would have described it," Neuvillette shoots a glare at the bottle of Fizzy Water and another concerned look at you. "After current events, I can't quite say the same."

Paimon was right, though. Placid was definitely a different way of describing things. Placid meant... calm? Or tranquil? You definitely didn't think that's how you'd describe Inazuma. Wait, Inazuma? And that feeling of sparkling water...

"Is it possible... You think it's 'placid'... because your mouth has gone numb?" you gape at Neuvillette.

He stares back at you blankly. The silence in the room is deafening. 

“Maybe… don’t drink that for a while. Not until you’re ready again,” you offer.

“Agreed.” Neuvillette nods stiffly. 

“Alright!” you clap your hands and turn back to the food trolley. “What’s next?” 

To your surprise, Neuvillette’s hand wraps around your wrist as you manage to grasp the next pitcher's handle. He looks just as surprised as you do that he’s holding on to you. 

“Neuvi…llette?” you blink at him.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” he lets go like he was burned, but he doesn’t exactly move away. “But we can stop here if you so wish.” 

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean to say is,” Neuvillette coughs into his fist, thinking hard about his next words. “Although I wish to learn more about the different tastes Your Grace can experience, I must admit I am unable to guide you nor accompany you in your journey, per say. Should there be something wrong with the following water samples, I can only watch and listen like the others, but not help until much later.”

You nod slowly. 

“It means he’s concerned, dummy,” a voice calls out from behind you and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I kind of got that, thanks for the heads up,” you groan.

“If I am honest,” Neuvillette’s voice is soft, you’d even be confident to say it’s like he only wants you to hear. “I feel like a scientist watching my latest test subject. Fascinated, and yet should a problem arise, useless.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you frown at him, but the expression easily slides off your face when he faces you (damn those sad otter eyes). Eventually, you offer him a soft smile. “If I really considered this as life threatening as you think, I would have stopped after the first pitcher. But I’m genuinely having fun, alright? So don’t worry too much about it.”

He doesn’t look quite convinced. You have been telling him to calm down a lot this entire time. When he opens his mouth to dissuade you, you beat him to it.

“I should thank you, you know.”

“Excuse me?” Neuvillette gapes at you. “I almost rushed you to a healer just a moment ago, Your Grace. I have done nothing to earn your gratitude.”

“That’s the thing, though, thank you for taking care of me this entire time, Neuvillette. You’ve been looking out for me every time we’re together, so thank you,” without thinking it over, you close the distance between you two and hug him. When you pull away, he’s intent on not looking you in the eye. “Thank you also for introducing me to water tasting. Never thought the day would come but here we are. It really is quite fun.”

“I see…” Neuvillette says, before abruptly turning around, giving you a clear view of his reddened ears. “Pardon me for a moment, Your Grace. I just… need to recollect for a moment.” 

Before you can say anything else, he leaves your side and goes to get your goblet he threw earlier in a panic. He kneels down and picks it up, but instead of heading back towards you, he just sort of holds it, turning it around in his hand mindlessly. You watch, jaw slightly open, until you feel a presence behind you. 

“I think you broke him.” 

You turn to the Traveler with concern. “Yeah I think so, too, should I be worried?” 

You both turn to Neuvillette, seeing he’s still busy with his goblet, before looking back to each other.

“I bet 500 mora he’ll go back to normal if you make yourself another drink.” 

“It’s not really a bet if we agree on the same thing, though?” 

You clear your throat, hoping to catch Neuvillette’s attention as you turn to Paimon. “Paimon, mind if I borrow your cup for now? We can share if you need it.”

“No, that’s okay. Paimon’s had enough of water. Paimon will share with the Traveler!” Almost on cue, the Traveler offers their drink to Paimon. 

The moment you lift the next pitcher, Neuvillette is by your side in an instant, your goblet and his safely set aside for washing later. “May I do the honors, Your Grace?” 

You offer your goblet as he holds up the pitcher. He pauses.

“Promise me we’ll stop if things get… awry.”

You smile. “You said it yourself, right? This is water prepared by the Iudex himself and made by the Creator themselves. I don’t doubt for a second that it’s not safe.” 

Neuvillette shares your smile softly before pouring the water into your goblet. Third time’s the charm, right? You take a sip and… raise an eyebrow.

“It’s salty. Huh.” you take another sip. “Sort of metallic, too. That’s pretty close to the same thing but, yeah, I’d say it’s rather salty.”

“Salty? That’s quite strange.” Neuvillette double checks that he’s holding the right pitcher. “This water is from Liyue, particularly from Qingce Village. I know of the water from Liyue to have an enduring aftertaste, but I must say I was not expecting it to be salty.”

“Me, too; for Liyue I was kind of expecting it to have an earthy kind of taste. Whatever that tastes like, I don’t know, but I was ready for anything besides this,” you take another sip. “Can’t say it’s all that bad, though. I feel like I’m at a beach.”

“Only if you’re actively drinking the sea water.” 

You don’t even bother looking behind you. “I said it ‘felt’ like. I didn’t say ‘taste’ like. Get your facts straight.”

Looking up at Neuvillette, you realize he’s only watching your reactions. He smiles softly when he finds your attention on him. Not wanting to be the only one “enjoying” the drink, you offer your goblet to him. He looks at you, slightly alarmed, but when you make no move to take the goblet back, he reluctantly takes it. He turns away from you as he drinks. 

You hear the Traveler clear their throat behind you. When you go to look, their eyebrows are raised at you. They look to Neuvillette and then to you before scoffing. Oh… was it that intimate an action?

“A-anyway,” you clear your throat as Neuvillette hands the goblet back to you. There’s a small pleased smile on his face. “What do you think of when you drink water from Liyue?” 

“For me,” Neuvillette closes his eyes for a few seconds, careful of what to say next. “I always thought it had a poignant touch to it.”

“Poignant?” What did you think of when you thought of poignant? Swirling the water around your cup, you recall a story quest. Liyue, salt, and water are key factors in its plot. A sad smile overtakes your features. “Ah. Yes, I guess poignant would be a good word for that. Salty is the right word, too.”

Neuvillette tilts his head to the side at your sudden change in demeanor. “Your Grace?”

“It’s nothing. Just thought I’d visit an old friend sometime.” you tilt your head back as you down the rest of the cup. “Anyways, I think I need something else to wash that off.” 

“Ah, yes. I suppose that does come with consuming salty foods.” Neuvillette nods. “Would you like a different drink? Something aside from water, I mean.”

“Actually, water is good for washing off salt, so I thought I’d ask for more water.”

He holds up the last silver pitcher. “We have Mondstadt left, if you would like to give it a try right now.”

“How would you describe it?” you ask, but you’re already holding out your goblet.

“This particular batch is from Cider Lake.” Neuvillette fills your goblet a little more than usual, most likely to fully cleanse the salt from your palate. “Besides having a crisp and clear feel, I also find that it warms the heart.”

“Oh, wow, guess Venti’s got it nice going for him,” you lift the goblet to your lips and drink.

“I’d be bold enough to say it’s the only thing nice going for him.”

You almost spit out your drink for the second time this day. You turn to look at the Traveler, but they’re busy having a debate with Paimon. That means that the person who said that was-

Neuvillette takes the goblet from your hands and drinks. When you look at him, jaw hanging open still from disbelief, you watch as the corners of his mouth tick up.

“Are you allowed to say that?” you whisper. The Traveler and Paimon don’t seem to have heard, but you sure as hell did.

“I just did, did I not?” He offers a small smile that borders on innocent if it wasn’t so conspiratorial. “I have faith that the Creator will not spread rumors about me, I hope.”

You don’t know if you’d still call it a rumor when he so blatantly did it in front of you, but you end up laughing. You put both hands up as a show of surrender. No way in hell were you telling on the dragon sovereign of Fontaine.

“So, as for our final drink,” Neuvillette offers the goblet back. “What do you make of water from Mondstadt?”

You make a show of finishing the cup all in one go. “Out of all the ones we tasted, I think this has got to be my favorite so far.” 

“Oh? Is it that good?” Neuvillette watches you keenly, awaiting for more details. 

“Yep. It tastes like water.”

Neuvillette chuckles softly, but when you simply offer him a smile, his smile drops. “You… are not joking?”

“Nah. It’s exactly as you say - it’s crisp and clean. It’s how water tasted like back from my world,” you hum in delight. “It doesn’t remind me of anything else but the pure taste of water. Can’t put my finger on whether it’s distilled, mineral, or tap water, all I know is that it’s water for me.” 

“Hmm. Although I want to say it’s rather an anticlimactic ending, I can’t say so. I leave today with the knowledge that there is still a water sample we can similarly taste.” Neuvillette smiles to himself once more. “But that’s enough of that. I believe I’ve put you through enough for today, Your Grace. Thank you for entertaining me and my hobbies.”

“I had fun! Make sure to call me next time you get a new sample, I’d love to have a taste.” You beam at him.

Neuvillette stares at you for a moment - was he waiting for you to tell him it was just a joke? Sure seemed like it - before his smile was back, relieved. You can almost see his little otter tail waving around. “Of course. I already look forward to it.” 

“Are you done now?” 

You take a step back as Paimon suddenly steps into the middle. Her little frown does little to make you feel bad. If anything, it has the opposite effect and you laugh. Her frown deepens at you as you rub her little head. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re done. We can get a meal now.”

“Woohoo! We're getting meals, plural. Where are we going to eat? Paimon wants some Fontainian Foie Gras!” you follow the fairy as she heads out the door, excited for the prospect of food. And then you pause as you remember.

“Ah, wait. Before we leave. Just one more thing.”

You head back to the food trolley and grab Paimon’s goblet. You make a beeline for a corner in Neuvillette’s office. You noticed earlier there was a small drinking fountain. Gathering enough water into your cup, you take a sip. You turn to Neuvillette.

“Oh my gosh, it’s sweet.”

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝ 

❀BONUS❀

The Traveler and Paimon share an exasperated sigh for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past week. Ever since the water tasting incident, the Creator and Neuvillette have taken to going around Teyvat, trying out different waters straight from the spring of each nation. 

"Why do we have to visit each nation? Paimon thought you could just have them delivered straight to your office!" Paimon leans on the Traveler's head, tired from floating around so much. 

"Appreciating the nation from which the drink came from is part of the experience, Paimon." Neuvillette swirls the water in his goblet, offering it to the floating fairy, who only takes a look at it before cringing away.

The Traveler and Paimon share another look. They know he just likes the opportunity to bond with the Creator over their appreciation of water.

"Are we going back home after this?" Paimon groans.

"I can make you some Sticky Honey Roast if you guide us to Snezhnaya?" You take another sip from your goblet, one made from pure magical ore.

("Your Grace deserves only the finest things, even if it's only dinnerware and the likes," said Neuvillette. "I may also add that a traveling merchant said that drinking from a crystal goblet highlights the taste of the refreshment, as it is free from the taste of metal usually found in a standard cup." You don't mention that you notice he has a matching goblet, right next to a pile of books on his desk. Embedded on it is a familiar seashell.)

In an instant, Paimon is by your side, eyes glittering with determination. "If you cook three Sticky Honey Roasts for Paimon, Paimon can take you to Kh'aenriah."

You lower your goblet and hold out a hand. "Two. And I'll throw in a Squirrel Fish if you find a lake where we can drink from."

"Deal." Paimon takes your hand and you shake on it.

The Traveller flops to the ground and sighs.

They knew they were going to be the one to look for that lake.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[astroknottt]

ASTRO ! I’ve been reading @/ bluegiragi & @/ thegnomlord’s monster au for a quiet awhile now and I’m in love with honestly. I love mythical creatures and monsters so much, but I’ve been thinking of Orc M!reader a lot as well.

TW ! Monster Au ( Orc! mreader )

you’re an absolute machine on the field, not so quick on your feet but monstrous in size and strength—your pure strength and brute mentality. sure stories portray you as a monster with the brain the size of a peanut but you’ve proven those theories wrong.

price isn’t an expert with your kind. both your species have existed during the same time period but that did not mean you interacted with one another. price knew more about your species than you did his, he knew how war and your kind went together like a hog and shit. you were perfect for the profession.

It takes some time for the boys to get use to you. you’re different, different from anything they’ve encountered and they’ve had their share of weird shit.

the moment you stepped foot off of the plane, captain price was the first one to greet you. your stature was everything they thought it would be, in size and muscle—fat filling in all the right places. when you speak it feels like the earth rumbles beneath their feet, a voice that’s deep and carries a guttural, low, and gravely timbre.

you weren’t green which takes him by surprise, you look slightly more human albeit your inhuman features. like the lower cainines that protrude from inside of your mouth like tusk, your lupine like ears that stand pointed at the ends as if you were some fairy, littered with many piercings, and your hellish build. slanted eyes that boar a piercing red color that surely sent a small chill down the dragons spines.

but you’re not what gaz expected. a hideous green tank, that drooled every time he spoke, an ignorant beer and pot bellied beast with balls for brains, a creature who thinks of nothing but food and breeding. a hideous man like beast who only plagued on about war and eating humans. he didn’t know much of the kind, but he has enough. honestly gaz thought your kind was completely wiped out.

soap couldn’t say the same. he remembers the horrors his parents would tell him stories about when he was nothing but a wee lad. the stories of ogres and goblins alike, their sadistic tendencies and how they would ravage through villages in scotland like nothing, eating anything in their wake and until there was nothing left. the moment he heard there was an orc joining their team, he couldn’t help the way his lip curled into a snarl—a growl of hatred tumbling past his lips. he was against it but he kept quiet.

ghost would watch you from afar, slightly threatened by what he didn’t understand. you’re not ignorant, but a skilled soldier on and off the field. you listen to orders and do what you’re told quietly easily, you’re able to lead those underneath you like it’s a simple task. ghost realizes that there is some sort of line that constantly blurs when it comes to man and beast with you and he understands. he watches that line fade on the field continuously.

© ASTROKNOTT ™ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 !

[thanos-the-dad-titan]

With a n incredibly heavy heart I just found out the legendary Akira Toriyama passed away. The man who brought us the Dragonball Universe.

My childhood is remember in different sagas of Dragonball. He will be missed. May he be training with King Kai and eating with Whis and Beerus.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

When The World Is Crashing Down [Chapter 10: Blame Everyone But Me For This Mess]

Series summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra’s wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother’s life. Now you are in the liar of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting…

Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, violence, serious injury, alcoholism/addiction, references to sexual content (18+), Aemond-induced chaos, death and destruction, witchcraft! 🔮

Series title is a lyrics from: “7 Minutes In Heaven” by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “I’ve Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth” by Fall Out Boy.

Word count: 6.2k.

Link to chapter list: HERE.

Taglist (more in comments): @tinykryptonitewerewolf @lauraneedstochill @not-a-glad-gladiator @daenysx @babyblue711 @arcielee @at-a-rax-ia @bhanclegane @jvpit3rs @padfooteyes @marvelescvpe @travelingmypassion @darkenchantress @yeahright0h @poohxlove @trifoliumviridi @bloodyflowerrr @fan-goddess @devynsficrecs @flowerpotmage @thelittleswanao3 @seabasscevans @hiraethrhapsody @libroparaiso @echos-muses @st-eve-barnes @chattylurker @lm-txles @vagharnaur @moonlightfoxx @storiumemporium @insabecs @heliosscribbles @beautifulsweetschaos @namelesslosers @partnerincrime0 @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @yawneneytiri @marbles-posts @imsolence @maidmerrymint @backyardfolklore @nimaharchive @anxiousdaemon @under-the-aspen-tree @amiraisgoingthruit @dd122004dd @randomdragonfires @jetblack4real @joliettes

Only 3 chapters left! 🥰💜

“Aemond!” he roars into the cerulean midday sky, knowing it is useless, that fate has already spoken.

All his life, fate has proven Criston Cole wrong. He once believed he could not rise above being born to a steward in the Dornish Marches. He once feared he would never be permitted to join the Kingsguard. He once felt in his twisting, self-loathing guts that he would never love any woman but Rhaenyra. And Criston once knew—without reservation, without complexity—that Alicent’s eldest son would never amount to anything worthwhile, could never be courageous, self-sacrificial, competent, a true king. Each time, fate had a different ending in store.

All around him, Green soldiers are dying in what will be known to history as the Butcher’s Ball. They are being slit open, disemboweled, crushed beneath the hooves of warhorses, stabbed and clubbed and speared. The Northmen have scorpions with them as well, with massive bolts to bring down dragons; but they are unnecessary. There are no dragons on the battlefield today.

Criston pictures Aemond as a boy, always so sullen, always so dutiful. He read and he wrote and he sparred in the castle courtyard until the blisters on his palms burst and bled and then turned to callouses, knots of dead-nerved scar tissue that grew over his wounds but never cured them. Criston did not just believe in Aemond’s abilities, his honor; he was certain of these things, he carried them as interminably as the lines in his palms. Criston knew Aemond and Vhagar would be the saviors of the Greens in this war. He knew Aemond would be here.

But he’s not. He’s just not, and there’s nothing I can do to bring him.

Cregan Stark is cutting through the Greens’ men. He is not a soldier, he is a force of nature, he is a thunderstorm or a famine or a rogue wave, he is winter coming to rip the trees bare and bury the weak in frostbitten earth. Arrows are loosed by the Northmen’s archers, lethal hissing rain. One hits Criston in the shoulder of his sword arm. Another pierces him through the small of his back, severing his spinal cord and dropping him to his knees.

Through the fray, Cregan sees the Kingmaker. He wants him, he wants Criston’s blood on his blade, his hands, his face; and what the Warden of the North wants, he is never denied.

Alicent, Criston thinks, and he remembers her lying in bed after giving birth to Aegon. She was a girl, just a girl, pale, sick, in terrible and unspoken pain, never the same in body, forever darker in mind, alone in a room full of tapestries of her husband’s house as the court celebrated her newborn son. She knew she had been used. She knew this was her life and always would be, a wheel that goes around and around and crushes the same bones until they stop mending, until the misery and desperation becomes so much a part of you that you could almost forget it’s there. It’s your shadow, it’s your religion, it’s a sigil or a ring.

I suppose now I have something to live for, Alicent had said, and Criston sat on the edge of the bed took her small, cold hand in his own. He raised her knuckles to his lips and answered: I swear to you that I will always protect him. That I will never let him die.

Here in the Riverlands as Cregan Stark descends upon him, Criston looks up again and sunlight spills over his face, warm and kind and golden; but the sky is still empty.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the gardens of Dragonstone, on a bench carved out of gloom-grey basalt, you pull Aegon’s legs into your lap and roll up his loose cotton trousers to inspect them: scars that have knit shut the gashes bones once cut through, muscle mass that is slowly building itself back again, good circulation, able to carry him if only for short, hard-fought distances. You have bled twice since Aemond flew back to the Riverlands to seize Harrenhal. Here under flinty autumn skies and pine trees that sway in brisk wind that smells like saltwater and metal, you think that perhaps the earth is done giving things. This is the time for harvests, not blooms. This is the season of endings, long nights full of cold stars, firelight, reaping.

“Stop,” Aegon says gently. He’s clutching a thick wool blanket around his shoulders. He’s always cold now, pale and shivering. His silvery hair hangs in untamed waves around his face adored with only a single small braid that you weave for him each day. “I don’t want you to do it.”

No; he only wants the maesters to see his weakness, his suffering. “I like taking care of you. It’s the only thing I’m good at. It’s how we met, remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” Now he smiles. “I have no idea what you saw in me.”

“An exemplary cock, mostly. Better than any in my medical books.”

Aegon laughs, a sound you rarely get to hear anymore. Then he is grave again. His hair blows in the gales that roll in off the ocean; his eyes, a tumultuous blue like waves in a storm, are ringed by shadows. “Angel, listen to me.” He places a hand over yours where it rest on a knot of scar tissue just below his kneecap. “If I don’t…” He pauses, and you think as you look at him: He’s nothing but scars now, he’s nothing but pain that is calloused over but never forgotten. “If I’m not here when the war is over, I want you to know that you’ll still be protected. Aemond knows. Larys knows. You are to be provided for. You will reside only where and with whom you choose to.”

“Why wouldn’t you be here?”

Aegon shrugs, avoiding your gaze. “We should be realistic.”

“You’ll be here. You have to be.”

Aegon stares into a thicket of rose bushes, blood-red petals and twisted thorns. And he says faintly, like something a strong wind could carry away: “I’ll try.”

“We’re winning, Aemond and Criston and Daeron and the Greens’ armies. They might have won already and we’re just waiting to hear the words. Aemond will end the war and then we’ll all be together again in King’s Landing.”

Aegon gives you a wry smirk as you roll back down the legs of his trousers, concealing his roadmap of harm. “A man like Cregan Stark would not be such a disappointment. He would be able to ride into battle. He would not have compelled you to bloody your own hands. He would not be feeble and deformed.”

“It can’t be anyone but you.”

Overhead, half-shrouded in mist, there is an immense reptilian shadow and a rumbling like the earth splitting in two, cracked and forced apart by eruptions of steam, lava, trapped toxic heat. Gingerly, Aegon returns his boots to the earth, stony and barren. He winces and groans before he can bite it back to hide it from you.

“I’ll go,” you tell Aegon, skimming your fingers through his hair and touching your lips to his temple. His wave-blue eyes are watery, grateful. “Stay here. I’ll bring him to you.”

You hurry through corridors and down spiral staircases, watched by dragons of iron and stone with fire burning in their mouths. And of course, there is more than one reason why you want to greet Aemond by yourself. You don’t know what he will say to you; you don’t know if he’s still angry. But when he strides through the entranceway of the castle to meet you—his hair in one long white-blond braid, his black coat billowing around him in the sharp wind—he is not alone.

There is a woman with him.

“…Aemond?” you say, staring at her: hair like onyx, skin like snow. She grins at you beneath eyes that are pools of ink, dark and glassy and with hardly any whites. You do not believe she intends to unnerve you; still, there is a blade-cold shudder that tumbles down the rungs of your spine.

Aemond replies with pride that is hushed, pure: “This is my wife.”

“Your…?” You cannot look away from her. Her gown is black lace with long, dragging sleeves and a train that curls around her like a dragon’s tail. You can see glimpses of her starlight skin through the fabric, her forearms, her waist, her thigh. Isn’t she cold? You are wearing heavy velvet, pine green like Aegon’s banner, and still the impending winter needles at you. “Who…?”

Lord Larys Strong arrives, his cane tapping on the stone floor. When he sees the woman, he jolts to a halt and gawks. “Alys?”

“Hello, brother.” Her voice is deep, smooth, melodic. She speaks the language of ocean currents, roots in dark fertile soil, the revolving of the stars.

You turn to Larys. “Who is this?”

“A bastard daughter of my father,” Larys answers, slow and disbelieving. “Alys Rivers. She…she was at Harrenhal, last I saw her…years ago…”

“And now she is here with me,” Aemond says. “She is precisely where she belongs.”

Silence fills the room, the world, the space that has opened up between you and Aemond. Wife? Bastard? Harrenhal? At last, you manage shakily: “Aegon is in the gardens. He’s waiting for you.”

“Good,” Aemond says. He wears something you have never seen on him before: not just pride but serenity, consolation, contentment. “There is much to discuss.”

As slate-grey wind whistles through rose thorns and cranberry bushes, you and Larys step out into the gardens with your uninvited guests. Aegon’s eyes snag on Alys, widen, and then dart to you. He mouths: Who the fuck is that? You shrug, bewildered.

Aemond says: “Allow me to present my wife, Lady Alys Rivers of Harrenhal.”

“Your wife?!” Aegon exclaims, like he couldn’t possible have heard correctly. “Your wife?!”

“Yes.” Aemond’s arm snakes around Alys’ waist. She folds into him, palm to his chest, lips to his throat, something creeping and boneless like ivy or mist or smoke. “You’ve had two now. I’ve only just found mine.”

“Rivers,” Aegon echoes incredulously. “A bastard from the Riverlands.”

Larys notes: “One of my father’s natural children.”

“A Strong bastard?!” Aegon cackles and looks to Larys. “Where is Daeron presently? Can he be summoned here? He should see this.”

“It is no jest, Your Grace,” Aemond says calmly. “It is a true pairing of souls.”

“And you were not at liberty to give yours. You have to marry Borros Baratheon’s daughter. That was the deal, that’s why he has pledged his army to us.”

“Daeron can do it.”

“Daeron won’t be old enough to marry for years, and that’s not the point! This is a slight, an egregious slight, to reject a Baratheon noblewoman in favor of a…a…what was she, a serving wench? A wetnurse? What happened to your pathological obsession with self-righteous duty? And why aren’t you and Vhagar with Criston?! Is this what you’ve been doing for the past six weeks while I was trapped here, suffering and useless? You’ve been hiding in the crumbling towers of Harrenhal with your so-called wife? What was so fucking crucial that it kept you from the battlefield—?!”

“She carries my son,” Aemond says.

A gasp spills from you before you can silence it; Lord Larys covers his mouth with one hand. Aegon stares numbly at his brother, not warring with envy or spite but raw astonishment. This is an asset to the Greens, it is a detriment, it lifts a burden from his shoulders, it imperils all of you. “You have no way of knowing what it is yet.”

“I know. We know.”

“And why have you flown to Dragonstone?” Aegon demands. “To torment me with your disobedience, to illustrate so vividly how all that relentless, calculated striving has finally cracked your brain in half—?!”

“No.” Aemond glances to you. “Something has happened. And I wanted to be here in person to deliver the news and…express my condolences.”

“Condolences?” you say, fearful, alarmed.

“Lord Larys will not have received word yet,” Aemond continues. “It has only just transpired. But Alys has seen it.”

Aegon shakes his head. He doesn’t understand. “Seen it…?”

“She sees things. The future, the past. Not every detail, but some of them. She’s seen Mother in the Red Keep, a prisoner but still alive. She’s seen Jaehaera safe and well at Storm’s End. The child has a protector, though Alys isn’t sure who.”

“She’s a witch?” Aegon says flatly. “This bastard Strong woman that you have taken to wife is, among all her other deficiencies, a witch?”

And Alys answers in a voice like the night sky, dark but threaded with glimmers of stars, moonshine, comets: “I am a woman who lives between two worlds. Your Angel is much the same, I think.”

Aegon blinks at her, not entranced or awed but fighting the instinct to flinch away.

“There have been riots in King’s Landing,” Aemond says.

“Yes, obviously. Everyone is aware of that. I think the Wildlings north of the Wall have heard.”

Aemond ignores the jab. “The Master of Coin, Lord Bartimos Celtigar, was travelling through the city in a carriage when…” He trails off, uneasy. He glances at you again. His sole remaining eye—river-blue and without any malice—shimmers with grim compassion.

“What?” you say. “What happened?”

Aemond speaks to Aegon in words you cannot comprehend, swift ageless High Valyrian.

Aegon sighs testily. “Slower. Enunciate.”

Aemond tries again. Aegon repeats a certain word, unable to decipher it. Aemond offers him several others, what you can only assume are synonyms.

Aegon’s face goes even paler, the last of the blood draining out of his cheeks. Then he reaches out a hand to you. “Come here,” he beckons softly.

“Why?”

“Angel, come here now.”

“They killed him, didn’t they?” you ask Aemond. Your voice is trembling, icy, choked. He was an architect of Rhaenyra’s war effort, but he was your father first. He was a beast with blood on his hands, but now you are too. “The common people hate Rhaenyra and they hate my family. So they murdered him.”

Alys says: “They did not just murder him.” And she is not taunting you, though she grins like she might be; she has lost pieces of what it means to be human. She is no longer fluent in anything as trite as sympathy or decorum. Her obsidian eyes gleam, polished, glowing. Her long black hair blows in the wind. There are raven feathers in it, you notice now, and twigs, pine needles, earth, sand, ashes. “They bound and tortured him, they sliced off parts of him to keep as relics, they rode on horseback through the streets swinging his severed head and cock as they celebrated an end to all taxes—”

“Will you shut the fuck up?!” Aegon shouts at her. “Angel, please, come here.”

“Your brother was there too,” Aemond says solemnly.

Yes, of course he would be. He was always Father’s favorite. “Clement,” you whimper, pressing a palm to your chest. Your lungs burn as they drink down chill autumn air that cuts like a blade.

“No,” Aemond says. “The other one.”

“What?” No. No, that can’t be true.

“Not Clement,” Aemond insists. “It was the other brother. The burned man.”

No. No no no. I can’t believe it, I won’t believe it.

“Angel,” Aegon pleads, still reaching for you.

“Everett,” Alys says, dreamy, not knowing how cruel it feels, like splinters of glass beneath your skin instead of arteries and muscle, like shattered bones. “He was not difficult for them to catch. He could not run.”

Your words escape in a hoarse whisper. “I don’t believe you.”

Alys offers her hands. They are long, lithe, white like a skeleton’s. “Would you like to see?”

“No.”

“I can show you. Then you will trust what I say.”

“Alys, my love,” Aemond warns.

“No, you’re a liar,” you snarl at her. “You’re not a witch, you’re not some prophet, you’re just a liar and I don’t believe you—!”

And before you can flee she’s crossed the space between you, she’s gripped your wrist with those slender claw-like fingers, she’s pouring her magic into you like poison down a prisoner’s throat. The vision surges into your skull and fills it, sight and sound and scent: Everett screaming as he is dragged from the carriage, the hoard ripping at his clothes and his eyes, dull kitchen knives pulled from pockets, the coppery ether of blood in the air. You can feel the feverish heat of the crowd. You can feel their boiling-over animal rage. You can feel everything, but you can’t stop it.

Beyond the grisly mirage, you can hear yourself shrieking, muffled and distant; and you can hear someone else bellowing for Alys to let you go. Her hand is yanked off of your wrist and you are abruptly back in the gardens of Dragonstone surrounded by indomitable flora that warps and tangles and endures. You are kneeling on the cobblestones, tears flooding from your eyes. Aegon is on the ground with you, his arms circling around your waist. He is calling Alys a bitch, a monster, a demon. He is threatening to feed her to his dragon.

“Forgive me,” Alys says to you, peering down with a vague sort of regret etching lines into her brow. “I did not intend to cause any distress. I only meant to help you understand.”

Aegon seethes at Aemond: “Take your witch back to Harrenhal.”

“No,” you protest; and Aegon studies you, puzzled, as you gaze up at Alys, this half-human phantom that dwells between realms, something like a dark mirror image of an angel. “What else have you seen?” Tell me Aegon lives. Tell me the Greens win and we have a chance at a better world one day. Tell me this was all worth it.

“She has seen Daemon and Caraxes meeting me at the Gods Eye,” Aemond says. “She has seen me taking flight to join them in battle.”

Aegon is stunned. “When?”

“Soon. Three days from now.”

You sob, thinking of Everett; and Autumn too, wherever she is, who will reappear when the war is over searching for home but forever unable to find it. Aegon holds you and you pull yourself into him, arms slung around his neck. His silver hair brushes your face; his scarred right cheek is rough against yours. When you breathe in violent hitches, you inhale rose oil and wine and salt and warmth and misery, you taste the war that built him and now has returned to claim the debt.

“It’s Rhaenyra’s fault,” Aegon whispers, fierce and merciless. “We will kill Daemon and Cregan Stark. We will retake King’s Landing and capture Rhaenyra. And I swear to you that she will burn.”

Aemond is saying: “Do we have permission to stay the night or not? We’ve traveled a long way. My wife is tired, and so is Vhagar. Another flight so soon would tax her.”

“You can swim,” Aegon pitches back.

Lord Larys Strong—ever servile, ever composed—clears his throat, both hands resting on the handle of his cane. “Would anyone care for some soft-shelled crabs?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Mist hangs heavy over the castle the next morning, a cool metallic grey like steel; the sun is muted, only a wisp of itself, a memory that is swiftly fading. Alys Rivers stands in the surf fetching seashells and stones that she plinks into a basket. Locks of her long, wild hair dip into the roiling water and emerge sopping and heavy, sticking to her ink-black gown. Aegon is curled up with Sunfyre at the edge of the beach. The dragon breathes with rattling, labored heaves and Aegon pets his golden face, wishing the beast’s wings to knit themselves back together and his own legs to be strong again, murmuring to Sunfyre in some clumsy patchwork of High Valyrian and the Common Tongue to assure him that he’s served his king well.

You and Aemond walk down the windswept beach together, your boots sinking in wet sand and leaving imprints like bruises on flesh. Your gown is a deep, vibrant red like the sigil of the newly decimated House Celtigar; Aemond’s hair is wavy and damp and blows loose in the breeze. You are reminded of the night you shared with him six weeks ago, though you don’t want to be. Neither of you have mentioned that indiscretion. You believe you have silently agreed to forget it. You ask the prince regent: “How many people do you think you’ve burned in the Riverlands?”

“Why do you care? They’re not you. They’re not me.”

“Perhaps each life we take robs something from us as well. It carves a piece of the soul away and leaves it less than it was before.”

Aemond raises his eyebrow, intrigued.

“I am less than I once was,” you explain. “Acts of love feel like violence, violence is mistaken for love. Things that horrified me a year ago are now what give me solace when I dream of them. Vengeance, slaughter, fire and blood. Aegon grows more bitter, more ruthless. And so do you.”

“We will have the luxury of reforming ourselves when the war is won and Aegon is the undisputed king of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“If there’s any part of us that remembers who we were supposed to be.”

“I remember exactly who you were.” Aemond grins. “Fawning over Aegon, weaving braids into his hair. Scurrying around with your bandages and vinegar and honey. Always seeking to take his pain away. Always waging your own little war against the agony of mankind.”

“That feels like a different person,” you say, peering out over the ocean.

“We will build monuments to those we’ve lost,” Aemond promises. “Jaehaerys, Maelor, Otto. Your brother and my sister. You say you dream of fire and blood? I often find myself dreaming of Helaena.”

You turn to him, startled. And you recall the warnings her ghost gave Aegon before Baela and Moondancer arrived on Dragonstone: Don’t fall, don’t fall. “Does she say anything?”

“She keeps telling me I’ll lose my left eye.” Aemond smiles wistfully. “And I answer: Helaena, that’s happened already. But when I try to comfort her, when I try to embrace her, she turns away from me and says it’s too late. That I’ve ruined myself.” He walks with his hands linked behind his back, his face thoughtful but not brooding. “I still miss her,” he says. “And I still feel responsible. But things are easier now.”

You follow his eyeline to where Alys is plucking a starfish from the frothing waves and placing it in her basket. And doesn’t it make some strange bit of sense that Aemond’s match would be someone rare, bizarre, gifted in ways that are in equal parts mesmerizing and fearsome? “I’m glad you found someone who eases your burdens.”

“She has suffered tremendously. She knows what it is to be unloved and overlooked. She had to reinvent herself, just like I did. She had to shed her skin and step into a new one that she stitched together herself.”

“Perpetual Resurrection,” you say softly.

“Perpetual Resurrection,” Aemond agrees.

Now Alys is trekking up the beach to join you, her soaked hair whipping in the wind and her basket slung over one arm. From where he sits with Sunfyre, Aegon watches her with narrowed, disapproving eyes. “This belongs to the king,” Alys says to you, opening her hand. In her palm rests the ring of gold wings and jade eyes. “You should return it to him. He does not like me.”

You gasp and take the ring that you last saw before Aegon fell from the sky and shattered his legs, his spirit. “How did you find this?”

“It spoke to me. I spoke to it.” She smiles, more like a leer, though she does not mean it to be. Her eyes—onyx, jet, black moonstone—are bright with amusement. “See? You do not understand. Sometimes it is best not to ask.”

You slip the ring onto one of your fingers for safekeeping until you deliver it to Aegon. From the stone staircase that leads up to the castle’s main entrance, Larys waves Aemond over to him. Aemond kisses the woman he calls his wife farewell—a deep, burning kiss—and then departs. You say to Alys: “How did you become…like this?”

“I surrendered to it. Anyone can, if your life is hell and you are willing to burn it down to the foundations. You go deep into the swamp and then it goes into you. It grows through your skin and into your veins. It tangles up with you, vines climbing your ribcage and spine like ivy on a trellis. It changes you. It makes you greater than you were before. The victim becomes the victor. The weak turn watchful and wise.” She is gazing at where Aemond stands with Larys, exchanging theories and plots. Aemond shakes his head at something Larys says. “I always knew he would find me. The man whose fractured pieces fit with mine. Yet each time I thought I glimpsed him only to realize he wasn’t the one, I would think: How long must I wait? I have buried so many children. Will I ever have more? Will he come to me before it is too late? Is it too late already? But no, he flew to Harrenhal just as my hopes were giving out like a dry well. And Aemond was worth every second, minute, month, year. He was worth the beatings and the contempt, the rapes and the blood. He was worth all of it.”

Alys reaches out to touch your cheek and you recoil; but she is not giving you a revelation this time. She is merely tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with a fond, maternal smile. There are mottled plumes of violet and indigo on the side of her throat, you notice only now. Alys catches you staring.

“Aemond can be rough, domineering,” she says with a sly smirk. “You know how he is.”

You know how he is. You know how he is. Horror strikes you like lightning; you imagine what other visions she has swimming in her changed blood. “It was a mistake. Aegon must never learn of it.”

“Of course not. That would kill him.” And you are gutted by a blade of cool serrated treason. Alys does not appear to be aware of it. “If I can ever be of service, please do not hesitate to summon me. I can appear and speak to you briefly, perhaps for five or ten minutes. I will be like a mirage, a ghost. Find a closed door and write my name upon it in blood. Then knock three times and open the door. I will be there.”

“A door? Which door?”

“Any door.”

You contemplate her. “Why would you believe that you owe me loyalty?”

“Because of Aemond,” Alys says simply, without any trace of resentment. “You mean something to him. So you mean something to me.”

He doesn’t crave me anymore. He has his own prize now. “I think you’re mistaken.”

“I never am.” Then Alys glides off to rejoin her husband.

Hours later as you are helping Aegon into bed—he must be carried up and down the castle steps by his guards in a litter, something he considers mortifying—you weave a new braid for him and then pour him a cup of milk of the poppy when his glazed eyes keep listing to the glass bottle of pearlescent relief, deadened nerves, liquid dreams. You crawl into bed beside him, curl up against his scarred chest, listen to the slowing thud of his heartbeat as his arms enfold you and draw you in ever-closer. His dragon ring glints on his hand, returned to its rightful place.

“Your legs?” you ask, kissing the gnarled scar tissue that has grown over his collarbones like climbing roses, like ivy. He can’t really feel your touch there, that’s not why you do it. You do it to show that you aren’t repulsed by his wounds and could never be, could never think of any part of him as something less than wondrous.

“That’s most of it,” Aegon murmurs drowsily. “I’ve started getting this ache in my back too. It won’t go away.”

“What?” You bolt upright in bed. “Show me where.”

He gestures: the curve of his spine, just above his hips. Panicked, you begin pressing lightly over where his kidneys are.

“Here? Aegon? Does that hurt?”

But now he’s realized how frantic you are, how upset. “Oh, no, never mind,” he says, clutching his pillow and feigning being too tired to speak on the subject for even a moment longer. He yawns dramatically. “It’s just a sprained muscle, I think. You know I’m always crawling around now like some kind of vermin. It’s nothing serious. It will heal in time.”

“Aegon—”

“I’m alright.” He grabs your hand and pulls you back down to him, buries his face in your hair, nuzzles and sighs contently as he whispers: “Shh. I’m alright. Stay, stay.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“You left him!” you hear Aegon yelling from his rooms, and you drop the book you had been reading in the castle library, an anthology of illnesses of the body, the mind, the soul. You sprint through the shadowy corridors towards the noise, the hem of your sapphire gown fluttering around your ankles. You are always dressed in jewel tones these days. You are anything but neutral.

In Aegon’s bedchamber, Larys has pressed himself to one stone wall like he wishes to disappear. Alys is observing with her strange, impassive, void-dark eyes. Aemond is being berated. He does not appear resentful or defiant; no, he is paralyzed. He is haunted, he is damned.

“You left him!” Aegon screams again, and hurls a full wine cup that strikes Aemond in the chest, spewing red through the air like blood spurting from slit veins. The king is standing, but with great effort; he is scrabbling through the drawers of his bedside table for things to throw at his brother. Yet the glass bottle of milk of the poppy remains untouched. “You abandoned him, you betrayed him, you fucking murdered him!”

“Aegon, what’s going on—?!”

“Almost a week ago, Cregan Stark’s army met Criston’s in the Riverlands,” he tells you. He is panting, red-faced, furious as he recounts Lord Larys Strong’s words, the news the Master of Whisperers only now received from one of his innumerable informants.

You stare at Aemond, horrified, already knowing what this means. “And Aemond wasn’t there.”

“He was at Harrenhal!” Aegon roars, tossing one of your medical books at Aemond, a volume on herbology. It strikes the prince in the nose, and blood gushes from his nostrils; ruby droplets freckle his hair. Aemond makes no attempt to defend himself. He is in shock, he is mourning. “He was fucking his witch while our men were being butchered!”

“Criston, he’s…he’s…?”

“He was slain in battle,” Larys informs you quietly.

Aegon staggers to his brother, shoves him roughly, receives no retaliation. “He was the closest thing you had to a father, he worshiped you, he loved you, and you left him to fend for himself after I told you over and over again that you and Vhagar needed to stay with him, and now he’s gone!” There are tears on Aegon’s face, crystalline tracks that bleed down his cheeks and jaw and throat. “You killed him, you killed him!”

“The Stark men?” you ask Larys, not wanting to know but needing to.

“Moderate losses. Now headed south towards Daeron and the Hightower army.”

“You fucking traitor,” Aegon hisses, sobbing, beating his palms against Aemond’s chest again. “Your whole life all you’ve wanted was responsibility and the second someone gives it to you, you throw it away! Why can’t I be the one with a body that works?! Why can’t my dragon be whole again?!”

And at last Aemond finds his voice. It is brittle and almost too hushed to hear. “I’ll make this right. When I defeat Daemon and Caraxes at the Gods Eye, it will be over.”

“It’s already over for Criston!” Aegon explodes. “It’s over for Helaena and Jaehaerys and Maelor, it’s over for Otto and Everett, it’s over for Sunfyre, we keep losing people and it’s all your fault! You started this war and you’re too much of a goddamn coward to end it!”

“He will end it,” Alys says in that deep placid voice like dusk, dawn, midnight.

“Don’t try that bullshit with me! I don’t want to hear about your delusions, I want him to do his goddamn job! I want him to act like the hero he’s been begging to be seen as since he was five years old! You know why no one wants to write books about him or carve his face into statues? Because he doesn’t fucking deserve it!”

“I’m sorry,” Aemond whispers, his mouth trembling.

“You should be!” Aegon hemorrhages, and then collapses to the floor, moaning with his face in his hands.

You go to him, try to soothe him, grab the wine cup from the floor and fill it with milk of the poppy, tilt it against Aegon’s lips. He gulps the numbness down with helpless, hated need. Aemond and Alys flee for the doorway.

Aegon says, suddenly more calm: “Aemond, wait.”

The prince regent stills and turns back, listening. Aegon, with great difficulty, begins to say something in High Valyrian. Aemond cuts him off. “No, that won’t happen—”

“Please,” Aegon rasps. “Listen to me.” Then he continues. And as he speaks, Aemond’s eye fills with tears, a glistening like ice over lakes in the winter, like gemstones in a crown. You look between them, searching for any clues you can read.

“I understand,” Aemond says at last.

“Good. Now get out.”

Aemond wipes his face with his sleeve and then disappears from the room. You tell Aegon as you rise to your feet: “I’ll be right back.”

Aemond is moving quickly; you don’t catch up with him until he’s passed through the castle entranceway. Down by the ocean waves beneath a blood-red sunset, Vhagar is already landing, leaving cataclysmic imprints in the sand with her claws, trenches and impact craters. From the edge of the beach, Sunfyre watches with dull, wounded interest. Alys is halfway down the staircase. Aemond stops when he hears your footsteps, waiting under the rising full moon and materializing constellations.

You demand: “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Aemond.”

“He’s confused, he’s exhausted, he’s in pain. He doesn’t understand—”

“Aemond, what did he say?”

The prince regent sighs and looks at you. “He said he doesn’t think he’s going to get better this time.”

I can’t believe that. I can’t survive that. “Why did you have to do it?” Your voice splinters; your throat burns. “He’s right that you started this war. You’re the reason Rhaenyra will never negotiate. You’re the one who made this horror inevitable. Why did you have to kill Luke?”

The dusk is radiant on Aemond’s face like firelight. It is a long time before he speaks. “I never intended to.”

That doesn’t make any sense. “What?”

“I never gave Vhagar the order. She went after Arrax. I tried to stop her.”

It wasn’t murder. It was an accident. And you think of all the times people have told Aemond that everything that’s happened is his fault, and how he has never disagreed with them. “Who knows?”

“You. Alys.”

“No one else?”

“Who would believe me?” Aemond smiles faintly, profoundly sad. “And even if they did, would that make me so much more noble than a kinslayer? A Targaryen who can’t control his own dragon? A man who is reckless, ineffective, unworthy?”

Here in air the color of flames and gore, you tell him, perhaps more kindly than he deserves: “You’re worthy, Aemond.”

“I will end this. I will meet Daemon and Caraxes in battle. Alys saw it.”

“Did she see you win?”

“Are you worried about me?” Aemond teases, grinning crookedly. And he does something that he hasn’t tried in a long time. He swipes for your forearm and you snatch it out of the way just before his fingers can close around it, just before he can catch you. Aemond chuckles. “I don’t want you to worry. I’ll win the war for the Greens. We will return to King’s Landing, we will rebuild, Aegon will heal. He will live for a long, long time.”

“Yes,” you say, wanting so desperately to believe it.

“You know,” Aemond adds as it occurs to him. “If the king does happen to predecease you, in ten years or twenty or thirty…and you find yourself unincumbered…Aegon the Conqueror had two wives. Alys would always be first, but…”

“No, Aemond.”

“Fine,” he says, agreeably enough. He smiles down at you. “I will come back to let you know when it’s done. Then I will fly south to join Daeron in annihilating Cregan Stark’s army. And then we’ll all go home.”

Yes, yes, let that be true. “Good luck,” you tell him, soft like a whisper.

“I don’t need it.”

Aemond descends the staircase, climbs up the rope ladder into Vhagar’s saddle, takes flight with Alys into the late-autumn dusk; and you watch them vanish into the crimson horizon until the sky is empty.

[teenandbeyond]

Hello! I was wondering if you would want to write for Beerus? I was thinking what a courtship would be like between him and a goddess of creation? :) hopefully you're doing well during the midst of everything that's going on in the real world! Best of wishes! -A

Beerus x Goddess of Creation. Reader

I like the alternative idea. Despite this, I plan to make the personality different! Edit: I'm doing okay, just busy with schoolwork. Best wishes to you, too! I hope everyone who reads this is doing well too, or if not, this can cheer you up a little!

Want more from me? Masterlist

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🥢Création et Destruction🥢 (DBS or Dragon ball Super)

Warning(s): Fluff

Although destruction and creation contradict each other in meaning, one can not exist without the other...They must coexist to truly make the universe hold the beauty it possesses.

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You and Beerus are total opposites.

He destroys.

You create.

He is much more relaxed.

While your shoulders are stiff with responsibility and proper etiquette.

When you met, you hadn't expected him to flirt with you on the spot.

"Huh. My first time meeting the Goddess of Creation, can't believe I've been missing out on such a cute Goddess."

"I—That-that's very unprofessional..."

You didn't understand him. You were taught to always be polite and respectful, to always hold your tongue, to always be professional, and to hold your temper.

He hardly did any of those things.

And he could really test your temper.

He easily broke that elegant, put-together wall you had up.

And he enjoyed every minute of it.

"Why are you taking a nap when you have responsibilities. That's so improper!...Ahem-"

And with time, he broke you down completely.

Noticing you were always tired and stiff and showing you what's it like to relax.

"Just because we have responsibilities doesn't mean we can't relax once in a while. We have to do this for millenniums, might as well catch a few Z's in between."

He is very protective over you when you do relent and catch a nap, he'd be very tempted to destroy the planet of whoever interrupts you.

And he learned you hadn't really explored planets and introduced you to Earth and its cuisine.

Which really excited you.

"Cute..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

He liked that your presence wasn't rough as his, the feeling of powerful serenity you gave off was attractive to him. You were polite and fluid in movement, yet your power and knowledge were undeniable.

He wanted you.

So he courted you.

And you saw another side of him.

"Flowers?"

"Bulma gave me an earful and said something about them..."

"Let me guess, you weren't really listening?"

"Well...I want to get this right, so, I tried to remember everything I could. She mentioned something called a 'date' that I'm supposed to take you on..."

He was soft and wasn't afraid to show it...to you...

He noticed your hair was always getting in your face, so he got you fancy hair clips to hold the stray hairs away.

When your shoulders got stiff from playing your role, he learned how you give you massages to make you feel better, but not without cracking jokes the whole time.

He attempted to learn how to cook for you...

Well, actually, he wasn't terrible at that. The dishes he could make were just limited.

You liked watching the process, his frustration was adorable.

Cooking for you? Telling you 'good morning' and 'good night'?

He was whipped.

Undoubtedly.

He even lets you pet him, which you'll do if he gets a little riled up.

You save his dignity and refrain from doing it in public (if it's not necessary) since he purrs a deep rumble.

You do things together, like cooking and of course your roles as Gods.

But Beerus's favorite activity to do with you is definitely napping...or maybe eating...both? That's a hard choice for him to make.

You were really good for each other.

He destroyed your walls and the false personality you upheld.

You created a warmth in his heart that he cherished.

People wondered how you worked out so well, you were opposites.

But being opposites brought you together.

So what if he destroys and you create?

Destruction and creation coexisting can make something truly beautiful

And you two love every minute of it

[tenebraevesper]

Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 1)

Welcome to the first part of my personal elaboration on the topic of why ''Prime!Shadow is peak Shadow!'', or in other words, why Prime!Shadow is one of the best written iterations of Shadow's character.

Will I try to make proper arguments for his character writing? Of course. Will I also be biased as hell just because he's my favorite character? Absolutely!

So, if you can handle both of that, we should dive in!

Before I start, I suppose I should give a brief overview of Shadow's character and how he had been handled through the years. The general consensus seems to be that Shadow was at his peak as a character from Sonic Adventure 2 to Sonic the Hedgehog (2006) (as well as Pre-Reboot!Archie Comics during Ian Flynn's run), being someone who was deeply traumatized by the death of his sister Maria Robotnik, had his memories manipulated to get revenge on humanity, only to sacrifice his own life to save the world Maria cherished, losing his memories in the process and trying to carve out his own path, only to finally solidify his role as a protector of the world, even if his methods aren't always the most peaceful ones.

So, where does the idea of edgelord Shadow come from?

Yeaaahh... let's just say that Shadow's own game, Shadow the Hedgehog (2005), didn't do him any good in the character department, because it seems that all that people remember was that one time SEGA decided to give Shadow a gun and let him deal with an alien invasion. The confusing story routes didn't help either.

In time, Shadow's character went from a complex and layered character to something akin to Vegeta (no offense Dragon Ball fans!), much to the disappointment of everyone who understood character before he underwent this transformation. Also, I'm not counting Boom!Shadow in this because Sonic Boom is a different universe and its own thing, but I won't argue against the fact that Boom!Shadow's characterization as a complete jerkass didn't do Game!Shadow any favor either. That's not even mentioning the Sonic IDW Comics, where Shadow had many mandates tied to him that even the writers found it annoying to write him (although with the most recent arc where Shadow was shown, it seems that the mandates have loosened a little).

Of course, I might be missing out on some information, but this is the general gist of the history of his character. So, when Sonic Prime revealed that Shadow would be one of the major characters, you can bet that I was nervous about how he would be written and I decided to keep a close eye on his characterization; and honestly, I went from genuinely pleased to excited when I realized that Shadow was being written as a very compelling character. Not only that, but he also appeared to have gone through subtle character development over the course of the show.

Starting from the very beginning, I'm certain that you remember how Shadow's first appearance was basically him punching Sonic at the end of Episode 01: Shattered, a very impactful first impression that left us with more questions and headaches. The following episode, Episode 02: The Yoke's On You, gives us more details in regards to why he punched Sonic, seemingly out of the blue.

Shadow's proper introduction kicks off with him searching for the Chaos Emerald... and I have to ask, when was the last time we even saw Shadow genuinely smile? Was in the Mario & Sonic at The Olympic Games franchise? I don't really remember.

In any case, being clearly happy about finding the Chaos Emerald, he speeds off, only to suddenly sense that something is wrong and is met with a giant blue pulse of energy (released during Sonic's fight with Dr. Eggman) and a vision of Sonic using the Paradox Prism energy.

''Sonic!''

This expression just screams ''Something bad is going to happen and it's Sonic's fault! I'm going to kick his ass before he does anything stupid!''

We then follow Shadow as he searches for Sonic, clocking him square in the face for something he hasn't done yet. Eh, I'd say that this one wasn't really deserved.

Even before Sonic starts explaining his relationship with Shadow, we immediately get an understanding of Shadow's character. He is serious, works alone, quite fast and powerful, prefers to fight over talking things out, is willing to do anything to protect his home and clearly has a history with Sonic. Sonic proceeds to add how Shadow is his biggest rival, a buzzkill and that he totally roller-skates.

''They're air shoes!''

Did... Did Shadow just break the 4th wall? Did he just make a joke? Dude, not even Boom!Shadow got to do that and Sonic Boom was the epitome of wall breaking!

Yeah, let's just say that my jaw dropped when I heard this, realizing that Shadow's character in Sonic Prime will be different than what we got used to see.

So, after knocking the Rings out of Sonic (I mean that literally), Shadow questions him about what he has done, with Sonic pointing out how Eggman is the bad guy, clearly confused about why Shadow is attacking him.

''You literally shook the world!'' ''That's because I'm good! And powerful apparently! Jealous?''

After a bit of teasing from Sonic, he and Shadow get into a race, during which I had noticed something. While Sonic keeps teasing Shadow (and also having fun fighting him), Shadow tells him to stop and listen for once.

''Clearly you're angry, which is normal,... but I'm supposed to be on a bit of a mission here, Shadow!'' ''What mission?'' ''None of your business.''

Sooooo, have you noticed it too? Because there is something very telling in this interaction. If you haven't, I'll let it play out until the end. Anyways, to continue, Shadow knocks Sonic into a rock, with Sonic confirming another aspect of their relationship.

''Ughh, I know, we're fighting again. Don't worry guys, I'll calm him down.''

We now know that this certainly wasn't the first time they had a fight and it won't be the last time. Sonic points out that, whatever beef they have, they aren't going to settle it this way. While Sonic is right, I will admit, I had to gush over the excellent animation and fight choreography. X3

Sonic then hears an explosion from the cave where the Paradox Prism is and tells Shadow that he needs to get to his friends, only to get punched for his troubles.

''Learn to focus!''

Now that the flashback is over, what exactly is going on between the two?

First of all, the main thing I have noticed is that both Shadow and Sonic seriously have a problem with communication. Shadow knows Sonic is about to do something stupid, and from his actions (aka choosing violence over talking) he is trying to prevent Sonic from doing whatever he was about to do. It does paint Shadow as a bit of a jerk, but Sonic isn't completely innocent here either.

An observation I had made was that Shadow probably knows that if he tried to just talk to Sonic, Sonic would either blow him off and run away or just tease him back, which was confirmed when Shadow asks him on what kind of mission he is with Sonic responding that it's none of his business. I imagine that there were previous events where Sonic was doing something stupid and Shadow tried to stop him from making things worse, and that violence was indeed the answer to Sonic's antics.

If Sonic had explained to Shadow what the deal is, I'm certain that Shadow would help him out. Perhaps Shadow could've told him about his vision, but going by Sonic's behavior, Sonic would probably not listen to him.

This brings me to my second point - this moment establishes that, if there will be character development for Shadow, it will be mainly through his interactions with Sonic and them learning to work together and listen to each other, something I'm really excited to talk about in later episodes.

The flashback continues in Episode 03: Escape From New Yoke, where Sonic does the old ''Hey, look behind you!'' trick and Shadow falls for it, hook, line and sinker. Sonic knocks him into a wall and speeds off to where his friends are fighting Eggman, leaving Shadow to recover and follow him.

I do like how Shadow just shakes his head here. Even if he doesn't say much, you can clearly see what it is going through his mind. He's angry at Sonic, but acknowledges that this is just typical for his blue rival.

in Episode 07: It Takes One to No Place, we see that Shadow manages to reach the Paradox Prism cave, just as Sonic is about to shatter it.

''Chaos Control!''

Unlike Sonic's friends and Dr. Eggman, Shadow manages to use Chaos Control, preventing him from being shattered just like the others.

''Sonic!''

Instead, he finds himself floating in The Void. I'll leave what happened to him in The Void for the next part, but what is important to note is that he cannot enter the individual Shatterspaces, but he can communicate with Sonic every time the latter gains enough speed to use the Paradox Prism Energy.

''Sonic, it's broken! It's all broken!''

Sonic is at first freaked out, thinking he's just hallucinating. I suppose that explains why Sonic keeps ignoring him in any subsequent appearances, despite Shadow trying his best to contact him and trying to explain him what to do, like telling him how he's lost in The Void and for Sonic to keep moving and to not stop (which also leads Sonic to find out how he can travel between Shatterspaces).

I suppose this can also be interpreted as ''Sonic leaves Shadow on read''. X3

Once Sonic accidentally gets out of No Place in Episode 08: There Is No Arrgh In Team, he is confronted by Shadow, who is absolutely furious. Not that Sonic notices, given how he had a really rough day himself.

''Shadow? Ugh, I don't have time to deal with whoever you are. I just wanna go home.''

''Home? Home doesn't exist anymore BECAUSE OF YOU!''

Considering what Sonic had done, yeah, this punch was definitely deserved.

As I said above, the first eight episodes are here to establish Shadow's character, his relationship/rivalry with Sonic and his own flaws (mainly the lack of communication on his part, choosing to fight Sonic instead) and it is clear that in order to overcome those flaws, he will have to work with Sonic (calm down Sonadow shippers, we didn't get there yet), something I'm excited to explore in the second part of this analysis.

#Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 2)

#Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer (Masterlist)

[tokkias]

nalu fluff fic rec list a list of my personal favourite fluffy reads on ao3! (+ a few of my own too :])

* indicates my must reads :]

Anything For You by goldviolet Despite Natsu's childish desire to know anything and everything, he's decided that there are somethings he's okay with not knowing.

Eye of the Beholder by madartiste Natsu realizes something about Lucy after seeing her in her old habitat.

your heart, my heart by aitnes * "Is that how you want to fall in love?" He asks, drowsily, quietly. She jerks around, staring at him for what feels like an eternity. Emotions brim brightly in the brown of her eyes, as if she's about to give up the most important, vulnerable part of her. As if all that she's ever wanted was to give it to him. "Yeah." Her voice, no louder than a whisper. "Yeah, I think so." Of windows, seasons, and slow change.

it takes two (it takes us) by aitnes She throws her arms over his shoulders, her fingertips brushing across the back of his neck and setting his skin on fire, and suddenly nothing is funny anymore. The team goes undercover at a ball for a mission, but Natsu winds up catching a little bit more than rogue mages.

The Colours Are Brighter, When I'm With You by RyuuSha * They say that you see the world differently when you’re in love. Lucy supposed that was true enough.

i’ll make you a promise (watch you dance with your keys) by tetsuryu * She cracks her whip across the earth and he thinks he might be in love.

what it feels like to fall in love by tokkias "Natsu?" "Yeah?" There’s a brief pause between when he responds and when she manages to articulate a reply. She looks almost contemplative, as though she hasn’t thought her question through or perhaps, that she doesn’t know if she even wants to ask at all. "Do you think you’ve ever been in love?"

Something Bubbly, Something Blue by madartiste Natsu discovers that he likes weddings.

Natural Progression by snickerdoodlles Epiphanies sucked. They made idiots boyfriend material and her mind more perverted than a trashy romance novel.

Your Hands Are Warm by chikachoo Lucy discovers that absence does make the heart grow fonder. Contrary to what she would have everyone believe.

A Matter of Time by shizutans You don’t know much about the stars, but you are certain in your belief that she is a supernova. Her gentle touches are explosions on your skin, and all you can see is her. She is blinding.

a thousand red roses by natsudragneelswh0re Natsu and Lucy come back from a mission that puts pressure on not only them, but also their relationship. There only seems to be one option to resolve their conflict, but the 'only option' seems to be different to either party.

ten baby dragons (or less) by tokkias Making a family of his own is not something Natsu had ever given much thought to, but as he holds one of the guild's tiniest new additions in his arms he catches a glimpse into his future.

Amazing by Kaleidoscope_777 Natsu and Lucy's monthly routine is interrupted by a seemingly harmless question.

Post-Job Rituals by GemmaRose It's not something they've ever really talked about, but Natsu has long since stopped being surprised when Lucy pulls his head into her lap to play with his hair after a job well done.

i would say all of this, but i don't wanna ruin the moment by luckymio * As he sat on his bed, only the sounds of his fingers clicking against the controller, the monsters in his game groaning, even though the game was paused, and the flipping of pages, he realized that he couldn’t remember a time where he wasn’t in love with Lucy. It had always been him and her, Natsu and Lucy, them. Always them.

Furry by TheTinyFoxtail Lucy's embarrassed, Natsu's gone too far, and Happy's always in the wrong place at the wrong time. No, this wasn't what Lucy had pictured her first kiss with Natsu to be like.

night drives by luckymio Those nights were magic. For him, they were magic. Lucy’s face in the side mirror, her eyes gentle, slightly dazed, and trained on the blurry houses and apartments. She would sing softly, close to a whisper, her voice almost drowned out from the sound of tire against pavement. But he heard it, because he never focused on the music, because he only focused on her.

taking the hint by tokkias In which Natsu tries his best to let Lucy knows how he feels, but she just can't seem to take the hint.

Winter by bumblebeehugs Lucy has the worst morning known to human kind, until Natsu comes to her rescue. (but you should read the whole Lovely Seasons series anyway)

[mirai-e-jump]

Hero Vision Vol.14 (2004/Spring) ft. Kamen Rider Blade Cast Interviews Ryoji Moromoto x Makoto Ito (Suit Actor) Segment (translation below)

Publication: May 20, 2004 (between episodes 17-18) Ryoji Moromoto (Hajime Aikawa) x Makoto Ito (Chalice Suit Actor)

"When did you two first meet?"

Ito: When? (laughs)

Moromoto: When we first met? I'm pretty sure it was before filming started. My first impression of Ito-san was that he was, "A kind big bro."

Ito: He made me think, "This year's also going to turn out cool" (laughs).

Moromoto: We talked alot about Chalice back then. You said, "Chalice has existed for 10,000 years, so I want to show you 10,000 years worth of my career." What were some of the other things you said again?

Ito:……not much, I really don't remember (laughs).

Moromoto: Ahaha! One thing we have in common, is that we have similar bikes, don't we? We've talked about how we want to go (motorcycle) touring together after the show ends. I ride a Yamaha SR400 and, ah...I'm sorry……(Note: The bikes used in Kamen Rider are provided by Honda)

Ito:…Sorry, but I'm also a WR250F (Yamaha) rider~, but before that, it's always been a Honda! I'd love to see Moromoto-kun's rumored SR. I've heard that they're loud and rather slow……

Moromoto: That's right! I actually modified it too much, and now it can only go about 80kph (50mph) (laughs). Right now, I'm too busy to work on it. I feel like my love for it is fading~!

"What were your first impressions of Chalice?"

Moromoto: I received a call from my agency, saying I passed the audition with, "You're Heart." "Eh?! You mean Momorenger?!," I was so surprised and alittle bit intimidated (laughs), but when I saw the design in person, it was cool and I liked it alot because it was something I had never seen before.

Ito: When I was first told about it, I jokingly thought, "Heart……(sinking in)…ah, alright then, I'll just act like a gay guy……" But, after seeing the design, I was relieved and thought about what kind of pose would suit this Rider. My first thought when I read his setup, was that it would be nice to have something wild and different from the other Riders. Compared to G3-X in "Kamen Rider Agito" and Knight in "Kamen Rider Ryuki," this is the wildest work I've ever done. Even with Kaixa in "Kamen Rider 555," I tried to keep martial arts like movements in mind, and to avoid any unnecessary movements. But with Chalice, there's just so many unnecessary movements…(laughs).

Moromoto: That's why I also tried to make the movements bigger in that fight scene (episode 9).

"Morimoto-san, "Hajime Aikawa is not a normal human being," what do you pay attention to when playing such a role?"

Moromoto: When my heart is closer to the human side, it's not so different, but when it's closer to Chalice's side, I try not to blink as much as possible, and when I talk to people, I try to give subtle pauses in my responses. It's almost like a foreigner hearing Japanese and interpreting it in their head before replying. In general, when I'm on Chalice's side, I don't think with my mind, but instead, try to act with my feelings

"Do you have any techniques for the dubbing process?"

Moromoto: I have a high pitched voice, so it can be difficult for me to make Chalice sound intimidating or violent. That's why I'm trying to lower the tone of my voice. I also did research by studying "monsters" such as the Hulk, Akuma from "Street Fighter II" and King Piccolo from "Dragon Ball Z." One time I even played the videos, and would try to voice the characters myself with the sound off, but there was still something wrong. What could it be…I don't know what Chalice's true form is yet, so my image may not be perfect. (Note: The actors have not been told where the story is going at this time.)

Ito: When it's my turn to "Henshin!," I'm trying to decide if it's better to change or to fight and further develop myself. Essentially, Chalice is supposed to be used to fighting, so I want to keep my methods in check. I'm so focused that I feel like I can see my opponent's movements, even when they've stopped. However, the tension is still high.

Moromoto: The way I say "Transformation" is different depending on if I'm fighting to protect Amane-chan or with my natural emotions. For Amane-chan, it's, "Henshin!" but naturally it's, "…Henshin" (lower tone).

"Did you face any challenges during filming?"

Ito: I'm not good when it comes to cold weather, so I almost cried during the snowy mountain shoot.

Moromoto: It was -15C (5F)! And when the sun went down, they brought out one of those giant fans! It kept spraying us with cold water! Man, I remember my face being scrunched up with anger (laughs).

Ito: When I did a test shot without the mask on, my hair ended up freezing. It wouldn't even melt when I put my head over the space heater, so I just had to keep it as is.

Moromoto: There was also the scene where Amane-chan's father gives Hajime the photo, with it being so cold I thought, "This guy, is he really going to die?!"

Ito: I'm bad with Winter, but I'm also bad with Summer too. When I wear a suit, my body temperature rises and my face turns bright red. My heart starts to race too and I think, "Ah, my life is getting shorter…"

Moromoto: It's good for Chalice though, isn't it? Blood rushing, a fast pulse, it's like an unleashing of the instincts.

Ito: But, when I get like that, I become quiet. In the Summer, Chalice becomes more like a domesticated cat (laughs).

Moromoto: Please keep doing your best~, I'm also prepared to risk my life for this role!

Ito: I also want to play the role of a Rider who will continue to remain in everyone's heart. Personally, it's frustrating to often hear people say, "Chalice looks like Gills (Agito)" (laughs), regardless, please continue to watch us in the future. We're going to give it our all!

[jorongbak]

Sooooo...Black Frieza.... ooookay......?

Don't get me wrong. I love Frieza. He's my all time favorite villain in Dragon ball, he is a very interesting character of course I would always say yes to more Frieza. And I absolutely LOVE how he's back to being LORD Frieza, once again a real threat in the recent DBS chapter. I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR IT

But... but can we get a different design now? Really toyotaro..? Just color changes again?? Did you really just-

I know I'll eventually grow fond of this form like I did with Ultra ego, but come on, Black is a real good color on him he could've had a much cooler threatening design. Remember when Frieza had 4 different looks every time he powered up in the good old Namek saga

At this rate we'll run out of every color on the palette soon- who knows maybe in chapter 149 we'll get Flower patterened Frieza fighting SSJ Ultimate Vegetable or whatever

....Okay I'll actually watch the hell out of that, but you know what I mean something new other than color schemes would be nice

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Your thoughts on this

"Zuko did not have a conversation with the person the was clearly there to kill him and his friends, thefore he did not care about his girlfriend" is certainly a take.

And I gotta love how they use Sokka and Suki as the exemple of "how an actual caring boring reacts" when Sokka ALSO never mentioned his girlfriend AFTER being told by Azula that Suki was in a miserable, sorry state, and the only reason he was at the boiling rock at all was because he wanted to save HAKODA. Suki was just lucky enough to be there and tag along.

Why is that not used as proof that Sokka doesn't care about Suki, but Zuko not asking questions to the person that is blasting fire balls at him means he never loved Mai? And if not talking about missing/being worried about someone every other scene means the character doesn't care, why do people not complain that Zuko asking about his mother in the finale came out of nowhere since she only ever came up in FOUR out of SIXTY ONE episodes?

Why is it that only Maiko needs to constantly be talked about to prove that the characters care about each other - and why are scenes like Zuko remembering Mai's childhood crush on him after not having seen her in years, or being visibly upset that he has to leave her, or bringing her up when talking to Sokka about THINGS HE'LL MISS ABOUT HIS OLD LIFE completely disregarded?

And why, why, WHY do zutarians act like, even if Zuko didn't care about Mai, that would somehow mean he HAS to care about Katara? During most of "The Southern Raiders" he's being super entitled and acting like he's OWED her forgiveness and friendship just because not having it is inconvenient. Zuko is not "pining" for her, he's basically saying this:

Also, it makes perfect sense that Azula would not bring up the Mai thing:

1 - Her feelings, and more importantly, her ego, are still VERY hurt by the fact that Mai chose Zuko over her. She literally tells the guards to put Mai and Ty Lee somewhere she'll never have to see their faces again. This could not be more different than the situation with Sokka and Suki - two people that meant literally nothing to her.

2 - She's already snapping a little bit. We see her using her entire hand to firebend instead of her signature two fingers-move that make her flames precise and basically cut through stuff like a blade. Zuko is even able to bend her flames away from him, and for the first time his strength is equal to hers, thanks not only to his new training with the dragons, but also Azula's imperfect fighting style. She's not gonna be thinking of how mess with Zuko's feelings to make him lower his guard, like she did on their first on-screen fight, because SHE is the one deep in the emotional turmoil this time and she isn't thinking clearly, even if she hasn't fully lost it yet.

3 - This fight is very clearly foreshadowing both for the Last Agni Kai AND Zuko's reaction to his victory coming at the cost of Azula's well-being. She's attacking him and his allies, and fully said she wants to kill him - yet when he sees her falling "to her death" he isn't happy like one would expect, even if he's kicking himself for giving a shit later when she inevitably saves herself. That scene was about Zuko's hostile, yet complex, relationship with AZULA. Bringing literally anyone else up would make no sense. It's THEIR moment, completely separate from his romance with Mai.

[longwuzhere]

Some cool Easter eggs I caught watching My Adventures with Superman that I want to show to people so they can be in on it with comic book readers

My episode 1 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 2 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 3 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 4 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 5 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 6 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My second half of Episode 7 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 8 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 9 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 10 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

(SPOILERS if you haven't seen the show yet):

We start things off with the title of the episode, "Kiss Kiss Fall in Portal" a fun nod to the lyrics of Ouran High School Host club's OP, Sakura Kiss by Chieko Kawabe. Very apt since Clark wanted to show the cherry blossoms to Lois on their date.

Next Jimmy razzing Clark for his extremely scheduled date plans for Lois and razzing Lois for her gift to Clark. Each of them reference what happened in previous episodes. With the first thing Clark and Lois I talked about it here and the second thing Clark mentioned I talked about it here.

After we cut back from Lois and Jimmy picking up Lois's dry cleaning, we meet the villain of the episode, Mr. Mxyztplk. In the comics, Mxy makes his first appearance in Superman #30 (1944) by Joe Shuster, Jerry Seigel, and Ira Yarbrough as you can see in the page above this text. Mxy is a 5th dimension imp who plays jokes and pranks on Superman and can only be rid of if Mxy says his name backwards. Yeah Mxy is a MAJORLY annoying thorn at Clarks side. MAwS Mxy, as you can tell has a DRASTIC overhaul in design kinda shares color and design choices with Whis from the Dragon Ball Super anime. Also in the show Mxy is a chaos god compared to the annoying imp in the comics.

Classic way to describe Clark Kent. That's a given in any Superman media.

Next we see Mxy mess with Clark by snapping him into his various Superman animation incarnations from the Max Fleischer cartoons, the Superfriends cartoons, and the cartoon that introduced Superman to me, Superman the Animated Series. Shout out to the MAwS team for remembering to give StAS Superman the darker trunks. People often forget that. Same with the red belt on the Fleisher Superman and the cape circling behind the neck of Superfriends Superman when usually the cape exposes the next a lot more too. Very good attention to detail.

With Lois and Jimmy they meet alternate versions of themselves. We meet two different Loises and one Louis Lane. There actually is a Louis Lane in the comics who has connections to Mxyzptlk.

In Superman #349 (1980) (W: Martin Pasko, P: Curt Swan, I: Frank Chiaramonte, C: Adrienne Roy, L: Ben Oda), Clark is forced into a genderbent world thanks to Mxyzptlk where he meets, as you can see on the page, gender flipped versions of his Daily Planet colleagues. Clark is eventually able to escape the world and defeat Mxy where he actually meet Louis Lane, Lois Lane's legit cousin. Bonus fun fact Osric Chau who voices Louis Lane, was the Atom/Ryan Choi on the CW DC shows

The League of Loises have a ship that's kinda similar to one of the ships designed by Rian Hughes and Grant Morrison on the Multiverse Map. I talked more about that map and the multiverse here

Lois Prime here shares similar designs to Fleischer Studios' Lois Lane. Very good homage to the look.

Next scene is EASTER EGGS GALORE and the section that took the longest for me to do. When Mxy and Clark break into the Science and Superhero Museum that Lois Prime created, we see a mace and an elaborately designed box of some sort. If you know your DC universe, these two things are a Thanagarian (alien hawk people) Nth Metal (strongest metal in the DC universe) Maces that is usually wielded by Hawkman and Hawkwoman/girl (as you can see both of them wielding their own respective maces on the comic covers here. The first one is from Justice League #15 (2019) done by Jim Cheung Tomey Moreu and the second cover is from Hawkman #1 (2018) done by Stjepan Šejić) and the box is a Mother Box from the New Gods. The Nth Metal mace makes its first debut in the Brave and the Bold #34 (1961) though it resembles more like flails and even then the Nth metal mace is a morningstar, but its alien technology maybe Thanagarians call these weapons maces where here we call it a morningstar.

Mother Boxes are basically supercomputers that the New Gods use. Created by Jack Kirby and debuted in the Forever People #1 (1971), Mother Boxes have a wide range of uses from energy and molecule manipulation, energy transferring, Boom Tube summoning to travel inter-dimensionally or inter-/intra- galactically, machine manipulation. The page from Who's Who-The Definitive Directory of the DC Universe #16 (1986) explains what a Mother Box is in full detail.

The camera then shifts and we see a Green Lantern Power Battery, a T-Sphere, and a book on display. The farthest item is an obvious one, a Power Battery that Green Lantern uses to recharge the Power Ring. This version of the Power Battery and Green Lantern make their debut in Showcase 22 (1959). The final two panels from the comic (W: Jon Broome, P: Gil Kane, I: Joe Giella, L: Gaspar Saladino) shows Hal Jordan recharging the ring with the Power Battery.

T-Spheres are floating spheres used by Mr. Terrific aka Michael Holt. These spheres can form laser grids, act as sensor arrays, bombs, record video and audio, hack into computers, display holograms, and discharge electricity to shock things or people. They make their debut in JSA #11 (2000) as seen there in the middle two panels (W: Geoff Johns, David Goyer, P: Buzz, I: Michael Bair, C: John Kalisz, L: Ken Lopez).

The book is a little harder to pinpoint, but my guess is this is the Book of Souls/the Cosmic Log/The Book of Destiny. If Lois Prime is able to find all this stuff and is able to preserve it in a museum, I wouldn't be surprised if Destiny of the Endless gave her an inert copy of the book for the museum. The book makes its debut in Weird Mystery Tales #1 (1972) (Page art by Michael Kaluta). The book records everything that is, was, and will be. If you haven't read the comics, you might have seen it be used on the CW DC shows rewriting the histories of their characters.

Ok so at the moment I am near the end of my 30 images limit so I will be making another post to hopefully finish the rest, but in the meantime, now that you are down here, feel free to check out the other easter eggs and references posts -

My episode 1 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 2 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 3 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 4 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 5 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 6 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My second half of Episode 7 easter egs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 8 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 9 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 10 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

[agerefandom]

Agere Writers Masterpost (2023 Edition!)

Helpful reminders: 

all of these blogs are SFW but have their own DNIs, so please remember to check! 

not all of these blogs have open requests, so please read their bios and respect their boundaries! 

please let me know if I should add anyone! to qualify, blogs must take requests for headcanons or fanfiction, have an easily accessible fandom list, be specifically sfw/non-k!nk content, and have posted in the last three months! 

Holy moly, the list is LONG this year!!! We are still growing and expanding as a community! Because I don’t want to flood anyone’s dashes, the list will be under a ‘keep reading’. 

The list is organized in order of the number of fandoms they write for: with the widest range of fandoms at the top, down to single-fandom blogs at the bottom.

Blogs in italics are folks who don’t match my DNI or vice-versa (but are still sfw agere): I didn’t want to exclude them as many of my followers might have different personal stances than me! However, to respect both of our DNIs, I didn’t want to tag them, so please feel free to explore their blogs in your own time if they’re up your alley! 

@smollwriting​ (She-Ra, Creepypasta, The Good Place, Vampire Knight, BNHA, Undertale, Castlevania, Disney, Marvel, DC, D:BH, Life Is Strange, Resident Evil, Anne With An E, Black Butler, Tokyo Ghoul, Death Note, Assassination Classroom, AoT, Free!, Lucifer, OHSHC, Arcana, Stranger Things, and MANY more) 

@agerefandom​ (Adventure Zone, Animaniacs, ATLA, BNHA, Castlevania, Critical Role, Danganronpa, Death Note, Disney, Doctor Who, DDLC, Glee, Gravity Falls, Hannibal, Harry Potter, Homestuck, Magnus Archives, MCU, POTO, Sandman, Sherlock, Star Wars, Steven Universe, SPN, Twilight, Untamed, WTNV, and more) 

@ember-owlet​ (Encanto, Chainsaw Man, Beastars, Jujutsu Kaisen, Spy x Family, Witch Hat Atelier, Arcane, DHMIS, Killing Eve, MLP, Steven Universe, Owl House, OTGW, Wednesday, Cats, Heathers, Hadestown, POTO, D:BH, DDLC, FNAF, God Of War, RE:VIII, Last of Us, Undertale, and more) 

@writerpey​ (Arcane, ATLA/LOK, BTS, D:BH, Disney, Downton Abbey, GoT, God of War, Marvel, OFMD, Peaky Blinders, RDR2, Sherlock, Shadow and Bone, Star Wars, Stranger Things, The Batman, Last of Us, Uncharted, Wednesday, WWDITS, and more)

@wonderinglullaby​ (DC, Invader Zim, Breaking Bad, MLP, ATLA, SPN, Doctor Who, Invincible, Inside Job, Walking Dead, Carebears, Bojack Horseman, Stranger Things, Umbrella Academy, OTGW, Spiderman, Deadpool, Horror movies, and more)

@deuce-t-agere​ (911 Lone Star, Bluey, Care Bears, Criminal Minds, Critical Role, DC, Ever After High, Disney (esp. Hercules right now), Friday the 13th, Horror, James Bond, Lilo and Stitch, LOTR, Marvel, Monster High, POTO, Star Trek, Star Wars) 

@littlefirefly42​ (Marvel, She-Ra, Riordanverse, Owl House, Adventure Time, Bee and Puppycat, Stranger Things, Heartstopper, Gone, OTGW, DHMIS, Dragon Prince, Goncharov, It, Wednesday, Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, HTTYD) 

@paper--moons​ (BNHA, Saiki K, Fairy Tail, Soul Eater, Death Note, FMAB, Dragon Ball, TAZ, Umbrella Academy, Marvel, DC, LOTR/Hobbit, Castlevania, TES, Dragon Age, Stardew Valley, The Witcher) 

@dreamties​ (Saw, The Collector, Black Christmas, Scream, House of Wax, The Boy, Heathers, Candyman, Carrie, Lost Boys, Psycho, Friday The 13th, Child’s Play, Spree, Laid to Rest, Dead by Daylight) 

@lavendermilkbottle​ (The Walking Dead, OFMD, DSMP, Hermitcraft, BNHA, Haikyuu, Star Wars, AFTG, DC, Grey’s Anatomy, Stranger Things, Leverage, White Collar, James Bond, Kingsman, Top Gun) 

@thorin-baby-bear​ (Stranger Things, Critical Role, Ghostbusters, It, Marvel, Ride The Cyclone, Doctor Who, Moon Knight, OFMD, Dead Poets Society, Welcome Home, Ash vs. Evil Dead, Werewolf By Knight, Bullet Train) 

@lains-cyberspace​ (Serial Experiments Lain, Complete Selection Modification, Welcome Home, BNHA, Genshin Impact, PJSK, Obey Me, Kpop, Slipknot, DHMIS, Enstars, TBHK, Danganronpa) 

@tinybeebo​ (Doctor Who, Marvel, X-Men, Moon Knight, Law and Order, Psych, Glee, Be More Chill, Dear Evan Hansen, Greatest Showman, Cobra Kai, Criminal Minds) 

@babiestbubbles​ (ROTTMNT, Daredevil, Spiderman, Stranger Things, Owl House, Bluey, Beyblade Burst, Disney, Harry Potter, DSMP/MCYT, BNHA, Sanders Sides) 

@strawbabys-blog​ (DSMP, Maze Runner, Harry Potter, BNHA, Merlin, Haikyuu, Heartstopper, Yuri on Ice!, Voltron, Hamilton, Marvel) 

@blankie-nest-agere​ (WarioWare, Psychonauts, MLP, Cookie Run, Stardew Valley, Owl House, Gravity Falls, Pokemon, Undertale/Deltarune, Invader Zim, Homestuck) 

@babybutlerarthur​ (Monster High, Danny Phantom, HTTYD, OHSHC, Hetalia, Disney, Welcome Home, SPN, Good Omens, Muppets, Star Trek)

@littlegummyfox​ (Series of Unfortunate Events, Adventure Time, Marvel, Steven Universe, Wednesday, HTTYD, Disney, Trollhunters, Welcome Home, Star Wars)

@mossysmolboy​ (OHSHC, BNHA, FNAF, Black Butler, Yuri On Ice, Stardew Valley, Creepypasta, D:BH, Sally Face, Arcane) 

shinxylullaby (Food Fantasy, Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail, Cookie Run, Ouran, Sanrio Boys, Demon Slayer, BNHA, MXTX, MLP, Obey Me) 

@leos-regression-cove​ (Marvel, Parks and Rec, Good Omens, Bee and Puppycat, WWDITS, OFMD, Abbot Elementary, Ghosts UK/US, Better Call Saul) 

@froggy-clubhouse​ (Mr. Robot, Stranger Things, Teen Wolf, Homestuck, Haikyuu, Lucky Star, DHMIS, FNAF, South Park) 

aew-kun-age-regression (Marvel, SPN, Criminal Minds, Teen Wolf, Last of Us, Walking Dead, Harry Potter, Stranger Things) 

comfybuckets (Idolmaster, Project Sekai, Vast Error, Sanrio, Homestuck, Pokemon, Chrono Trigger, MLP g4) 

berrymoos (Moon Knight, Ninjago, Owl House, BNHA, Demon Slayer, Pokemon, Spiderman, Steven Universe, Stranger Things) 

@pup-writes-agere​ (Naruto, Pokemon, Legend of Zelda, Animal Crossing, Sonic, TMNT, FNAF, Danganronpa)

@sfwregressionfanfictions​ (Supernatural, RPF, Stranger Things, Marvel, Criminal Minds, Harry Potter, Addams Family)

@arcadian-agere​ (TWST, Genshin Impact, Death Note, Enstars, Black Butler, Nu Carnival, Pokemon)

kiddo-characters (Banana Fish, Owari no Seraph, Love Live!, Warrior Cats, sk8 The Infinity, ATLA, Genshin Impact) 

zeiru (Amphibia, ATLA, Disney/Pixar, Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, MLP, Tangled Series, Owl House) 

@dino--boyy​ (Fear Street, Criminal Minds, Stranger Things, Owl House, Scream, Yellowjackets) 

@jjtheresidentbaby​ (Criminal Minds, SPN, Stranger Things, SWAT, Marvel, Teen Wolf)

@azulsgoldfish​ (TWST, PRSK, OHSHC, Persona, Enstars, Pokemon)

@honeybeewritings​ (Marvel, Stranger Things, Harry Potter, Wednesday)

@karaslittlesunshine​ (Supergirl, Marvel, Pitch Perfect, Criminal Minds)

@agere-ena​ (Project Sekai, Pretty Cure, Love Live!, Honkai: Star Rail)

enderlyghost (Ok KO, Encanto, FNAF: SB, MCYT/DSMP)

800-little-space (BNHA, Haikyuu, Assassination Classroom, Harry Potter) 

@tiniestroses​ (Project Sekai, Sonic, TMNT, Undertale)

@agere-fics​ (Marvel, Good Omens, The Mandalorian) 

@angelbaby-fics​ (Marvel, Stranger Things, other Chris Evans characters)

@guppies-daydream​ (Legend of Zelda, Splatoon) 

@gothicmunson​ (Stranger Things, Our Flag Means Death)

@smallboyontheship​ (Just Roll With It) 

@littlemetaknight​ (Kirby) 

@pumpkaboo-princess​ (Project Sekai) 

@prince-honeypaw (BNHA) 

@babs-and-bones​ (Undertale)

@babybones-agere​ (Undertale)

@sleepy-watcher​ (Our Flag Means Death)

@star-struck-wonderland​ (BNHA)

@bnha-crimebabies​ (BNHA)

@bnha-littlespace-things​ (BNHA)

@little-lippie​ (Kpop Girl Groups) 

pyrohrtd (Genshin Impact)