#Beyond The Realm of Conscience

[the-marron]

i like how ur tag implies that theyre still enemies WHILE coparenting lol

That's the best part, my dear: this is absolutely what happens 🤣 their adopted daughter really goes out of her way to make them make up

Apologies for the shitty screen but there you have it

[sabertoothwalrus]

do you think Falin's chimerism would affect her lifespan and behaviors? or just her body? maybe she can make more animalistic noises or has vague dragon-like instincts?

that’s a really good question! I think we could probably figure this out by taking a look at what we know about Falin, what we know about red dragons, whether these things would apply to Falin, and go from there.

The obvious external changes Falin has are: her eyes, her teeth, and her feathers.

It’s hard to pin down what Falin is like! Throughout the duration of the manga, she wasn’t really a character so much as a plot device. We have almost nothing told from her point of view, and the majority of her unbiased (as in, we’re seeing her through a neutral lens and not another character’s perception of her) characterization is from the post-canon omake.

Even Falin believes that her wanderlust might come from her dragon side, but she's not sure. Personally, I think it’d make a lot of sense if it kind of does, in the sense that she has 20/20 vision now, haha! For most of her life, she could probably only see clearly within a relatively small sphere surrounding her, and now she can see everything. She can look up and around freely in a way she couldn’t before. Fuck man, if I had magic lasik I’d probably go out more too.

Some other quirks that are really unclear whether it’s typical for Falin or chimera-influenced:

she enters rooms through windows, sometimes. And given the leaves in her hair, I think it’s reasonable to assume this is not the first floor 💀 But who knows! Maybe that’s not new for Falin.

She points out that Laios’s scent could deter monsters. Maybe she has enhanced smell. But again, it isn’t unreasonable to think this is something she would have said before. (I think even Chilchuck and Izutsumi, whose senses of smell are enhanced, can’t identify scents well. Kuro, however, can.)

VIOLENCE! But again, we’ve seen her beat shit with her staff before, and she also used to wield a flail. It IS a trait for red dragons to fight any large threat, so if anything, she’s got even better monster fighting instincts than before. I don't think this would carry over to people. Falin has always been better with people, and I'm personally not a fan of seeing her depicted as territorial or possessive. Marcille is already the possessive one, and didn't need dragon blood to be like that.

Ultimately, I don't think her dragon traits extend much farther beyond this. Especially when you consider How Little the dragon is represented as in her conscience.

it's not like it's a 50/50 split. She's like a person with a dragon ratatouille. I don't think she'd be able to make dragon noises. I don't think her body is built for that. I know there's like, a set list of tropey characteristics that are given to almost every non-human character in fiction. and sure that's FINE but they tend not to be especially personalized to the character, and tend to just be an excuse to write them OOC. Like, sure, dragons may have instincts regarding sleep habits, hunting, courting, raising young, etc etc, but so do humans! And we don't compulsively act on every instinctual whim we have. I don't see why it'd be any harder for her new dragon instincts.

If anything, I think she'd feel more affected by the fact that she has part of the demon in her.

I don't think Falin's in any sort of trouble. All the demon was was a way to communicate with people. Here, it's representing Falin's tether to the infinite realm, to mana itself. The winged lion no longer has the desire to consume anymore because, yknow, Laios has that now. This is very likely why she no longer needs to chant to cast magic.

But what else does this mean for her? She already had unusually high reserves of mana + an innate connection with spirits, but is her mana essentially limitless now? How would that affect her lifespan? I'm leaning towards, it wouldn't really?? But is she immune to mana sickness now? Is it more like her magic is just sort of amplified like it would be in a dungeon?

We can infer that having more mana doesn't increase your lifespan, because-- while elves and gnomes have both naturally high levels of mana and longer lifespans-- dwarves live longer but have lowest levels of mana of all.

So to answer your question! Maybe a little bit?? But I don't think she'd change a whole lot.

[call-me-strega]

Dc x DP Prompt #8: Best Friend’s Brother

Preface: this prompt can be used with different characters but I’m writing it as Dead on Main bc that’s my favorite. Also the colleges I mention are real colleges from the DCU

~~~

Danny Fenton was 18 when he moved to Gotham for college.

It was the only place with a half decent engineering program that would take a kid with his record; drop in grades, unexplained absences, missing class, a disciplinary record, etc. Plus there was a decent saturation of both magic and ectoplasm in Gotham’s air. After he got accepted he decided to tell his parents he was Phantom. They reacted surprisingly well all things considered. They were horrified to learn they’d been hunting their son but it quickly turned into acceptance to listen to what he had to tell them. Now they turned their obsession from hunting ghosts to learning more about ghost more humanely. He also managed to get his former rouges to agree to call off any major shenanigans in favor of less destructive outlets. (He got Ember a TikTok and a YouTube channel, he set up a drag racing circuit in the realms for Johnny and Kitty, let Technus enter the internet as long as he stayed within Amity’s grid or help Ember manage her stuff, allowed Desiree grant wishes for Make a Wish Foundation kids so long as she didn’t horribly twist them, etc.)

Now with the town not at constant risk of danger and his parents agreeing to really handle any rouge ghosts, Danny could leave Amity with a clear conscience. His friends were also growing up and heading to their own colleges. Tucker was heading to Ivy University in New England, which rivaled MIT in terms technological prestige, and Sam decided on Vandermeer University in Pittsburg, which had a reputation for being a very liberal, anti-authority campus. Although their trio would be spread out, Danny found comfort in the fact that they’d all moved from the Midwest to the Northeast.

With promises to stay in touch a visit. Danny got set up in GCU’s dorms, ready to move into the next chapter of his life.

~

Danny Fenton was 20 when Tim Drake (age 19 but nearing 20) officially became one of his best friends.

They had been introduced to each other by their mutual friend Sebastian Ives for a new Warlocks and Warriors campaign. Their friendship extended beyond WnW when they ended up on the same Applied Physics and Mechanics class. It was cemented when they got pair up for a project in class and had to spend lots of time around each other.

Danny didn’t mind that Tim tended to be a bit flaky and Tim didn’t mind that Danny was possibly not 100% human. They didn’t ask each other too many questions about that stuff. They knew the other had something odd about him and that was fine with them. It was nice to have a causal friend they could be normal with, without being questioned about their more peculiar behaviors.

They officially became best friends when the built a Rube Goldberg machine with a working trebuchet within an hour of the three they had to complete it for their Applied Phys-Mech final. Danny introduced Tim to Sam, Tucker and Jazz. Tim introduced him to Steph, Tam, and Cass. They texted and hung out fairly often. They truly did consider each other one their best friends.

~

Danny Fenton is 22 when he meets Tim’s family.

Tim’s 21st birthday is coming up and he has plans with his family the day of and is going out with his friends, including a couple from out of town, that night. They want to take him out for his first drink and it’s fortunate timing since it’s the weekend so nobody has to worry about classes. Everyone who was going was already informed that Tim would be spending most of the day with his family before Steph and Cass would bring to the club everyone was meeting up at. Which is why it’s purely a coincidence when he runs into them at BatBurger during the lunch rush.

Danny had just picked up the part-time job to earn a little extra cash to pay for his hobbies. Tim new about it but didn’t know the exact location he worked. That’s why they were both presently surprised when they heard each others voices in the drive through. When they pulled up to window Danny saw his friend leaning over a tired looking black-haired man, trying to stick his head out of the drivers window to give Danny a maniacal grin.

He quickly introduced the other passengers of the car as his dad, Bruce, and three of his brothers Dick, Jason, and Duke. He mentioned he had a fourth brother, Damian, who was still at home. Danny couldn’t really see everyone all that well on account of they were inside a car but he happily greeted them as well. They laughed and Danny wished Tim a happy birthday saying he’d see him at his celebration later tonight before handing them their food. He could the rowdy boys ribbing their brother as the car drove away and Danny resumed his work.

That incident seemed to have opened a gate because now Tim felt more comfortable inviting him over when his brothers were still around the house. He occasionally talked about his family more and Danny returned the favor letting snippets of his own family spill a little more. Occasionally, he’d see Tim’s family outside of his interactions with Tim.

He’d run into Damian, and sometimes Bruce or Dick was with him, at the museum or in the park while the younger had been walking his dog and stopped to say hi a couple of times. He chatted with Dick a couple of times when they were both in line to get coffee at a cafe. He saw Duke on a college tour once and waved at him.

The family member he probably saw the most other that Tim (and by extension Cass) was actually Jason. He’d ended up ditching BatBurger to get some more practical experience at an apprenticeship at the auto shop Jason went to to get his motorcycle serviced. The two of them got along pretty well and would often make conversation when Jason was waiting on his bike to be ready or to get his bill.

At first is was small talk about little things like how he and Tim were doing in class or how their days were going but they soon grew to have genuine interests in each other. Jason let Danny talk about space and mechanics and even gave his own thoughts sometimes, once helping Danny realize he was over complicating the circuit board of the device he was building. In return Danny let Jason ramble to him about literature, even taking the initiative to read a book Jason mentioned so he could talk to him about it better. Their conversation tended to be on the briefer side but were always enjoyable to both parties.

Danny actually liked being around Jason a lot but didn’t really bring that fact up a lot around Tim as it didn’t seem necessary. Tim was pretty glad that Danny got along with his family but he preferred to keep them in separate places in his mind. Danny knew and respected that, only really mentioning that he’d seen them recently and that they’d told him to say hi on their behalf (or die in Damian’s case occasionally).

~

Tim Drake was 22 when he came to a horrific realization.

Well, perhaps horrific was a bit of an exaggeration. Tim wasn’t necessarily horrified by the revelation. In all honesty he didn’t know how to feel. He felt an odd mixture of protectiveness, possessiveness, confusion, and optimism(?).

You see, Tim and Danny had been hanging out in the campus center, studying and goofing off when he got a text from Jason saying he was coming to pick him up for family dinner at the manor since he was closest and Dick was busy picking up Duke and Damian from their after school clubs.

“What’s up?” Danny asked him curiously.

Tim set his phone on the table and started putting his stuff away. “My brother is coming to pick me up for family dinner so I gotta head out soon.”

“Ah well I should probably get going too. Tell Dick I said hi.”

“Actually, it’s Jason. Dick is picking up Duke and Damian,” he said shoving his textbook into his bag.

“Oh? That’s nice of him. Hey do you wanna just head out together?” Danny asked, fidgeting with his hoodie strings.

Tim noticed a slight strain in Danny’s voice at the mention of Jason but didn’t comment. He just nodded his head sure and walked outside with Danny. They got out to the street when Tim realized he’d left his phone in the library. He faced palmed and asked Danny if he could hold his stuff so it wouldn’t slow him down as he ran back to the campus center to get his phone. Danny agreed to and hold his stuff and wait for Jason while Tim went back.

After getting his phone Tim started heading back to where he left Danny when he saw that Jason had arrived that Jason had arrived and was talking to Danny. He was about to call out to them when he noticed several things in quick succession. Danny was fidgeting with his hoodie, something he tended to do when nervous. The tips of Danny’s ears were a light shade of pink (it isn’t cold out yet?). Danny looked deeply absorbed in his conversation with Jason in a way that reminded Tim of how he talked about space. And Jason seemed just as absorbed in the conversation as well.

The gears in Tim’s head went into overdrive and he realized ‘Ah- Danny has a crush on Jason’. His eyes widened as his head whipped around to examine Jason again. He saw a look of genuine fondness in his eyes. Thus Tim was confronted with the aforementioned horrific realization and complicated feelings. Tim didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or both.

‘My dumbass best friend has a crush on my brother. And worse(?), my idiot brother returns those feelings.’

[maacbrem]

Vox Machina’s story is a tragedy just as much as a happy ending.

Imagine: you’re the twin bastards of a wealthy man and a dead woman and all you have in the world is each other; you’re the prodigal heir of your people on the same quest that took your mother and the very concept of power terrifies you but you have to learn to wield it anyway; you’re the son of a deposed warlord left for dead by your uncle, brought into an unknown world of kindness and faith by another victim of your family of origin whose death you objected to against all your upbringing; you’re the good-hearted daughter of a family of crooks and you struggle to balance the love of your goddess with all the ugly feelings of anger and doubt that haunt you; you’re the lone survivor of a massacre, you fled the burning corpse of the city you love and your own sister’s bleeding body in the dirt, when you sleep you dream of forge fire and blood and you cling to your name even as you know you’re not worthy of it; you’re a bard haunted by the song of your mother’s dying screams and when you make people laugh you feel a little less helpless so you resign yourself to being comic relief and convince yourself that being needed is better than being wanted.

And then bit by bit you come together by chance, and suddenly you’re not just you anymore, you’re a group. You start testing the waters of friendship, of care, of love in many forms. You kill for each other; you die for each other. The world keeps trying to crush you but you keep fighting back, and together you start winning, together you stop being outcasts and screw-ups and start being heroes. People look to you for help, for guidance, for salvation. You’re terrified of it but you’re together so you muddle through, and all the losses pile up but the victories are so much greater. Guilt is easier to carry across many shoulders, and vengeance is a noble pursuit. You’re winning. You’re winning.

And then you lose. You lose and you keep losing and you thought the Dread Emperor, the Briarwoods, the dragons were all beyond you but you managed it, you saved the realm and each other, but suddenly you’re in the Shadowfell and your friends are dying and Vax is gone -

You win. But there’s finally a price that you don’t want to pay. You’re the most powerful group of people in the world, wielding god-forged remnants of divine war and too stubborn to do anything but fight until the fighting’s done, but you still lose. He leaves you, willingly and with a clean conscience and an awful, cruel faith that you’ll all be okay without him, and there’s nothing you can do.

In this moment, at the absolute height of your power, you are useless.

Vox Machina is a tragedy because they rallied the whole world behind them and they won every unwinnable fight and in between all that they figured out how to be people who love and dream and build and lead and open bakeries and have cannonball contests and start families, but there was always going to be a cost. There was always going to be an end. Even as they move forward and live their lives they’re still a little bit stuck in their grief because they’re not used to losing. They’re unstoppable forces of nature but they were always going to meet an immovable object and none of them are really capable of accepting that because why would they? They’re basically gods.

[miguelswifey04]

okay idea, so let’s say Miguel has a crush on Spider!reader, or regular reader which ever you prefer. And he steals reader underwear and he used it to Jack off

Basically Miguel being a pervert , sorry if this is isn’t what you write

yandere! miguel o’hara x fem! reader

cw: perverted! miguel, stalking, stealing reader’s underwear, masturbation, nsfw 18+, smut; no plot, miguel has a corruption kink (?), dub-con

a/n: in no way i condone this at all. this is purely fiction.

miguel’s admiration for you goes beyond the realms of simple desire, evolving into a deeper fondness and adoration. he becomes infatuated with you, wanting to possess a piece of you to satisfy his longing. he wanders through your room, his heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and guilt. his eyes land on your panty drawer, and he can't resist the temptation to have something even more personal to satiate his forbidden desires.

in an act of mischief, miguel secretly takes hold of a pair of your panties, relishing in the scent of your essence that clings to the fabric. he locks himself in his room, his mind consumed with thoughts of you as he indulges in his personal fantasy.

with your panties in hand, he wraps them around his throbbing length, using them as a makeshift masturbatory aid. the silkiness of the fabric against his skin drives him wild, intensifying the pleasure coursing throughout his body. “your scent, your touch... it drives me crazy," he moans, lost in the intoxication of his desires. "having a piece of you like this... it's almost like having you right here with me."

he strokes himself with fervor, picturing your enticing curves and sultry gaze. with each movement, he can feel you in his imagination, the pleasure building to an overwhelming peak. finally, he releases a deep, guttural groan of satisfaction, his hot release shooting onto the stolen panties. the stolen panties are now stained with his release, a haunting symbol of his obsession and the depths he has sunk to.

as he catches his breath, the weight of his actions washes over him, a bitter mix of shame and regret. he quickly gathers himself and slips out of your home, leaving with a heavy heart and a haunted conscience, vowing to confront the turmoil consuming him.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @obi-mom-kenobi @emiemiemiii @meeom @astro1bloom @meeom

[tadcdreamlandau]

WELCOME, TO THE OFFICIAL TADC DREAMLAND AU-CENTERED BLOG! ! ! Sorry if it's way too long btw.

STATUS: [Updated Gangle picture & desc, Zooble now being a knight]

[AU still in development AND will update regularly]

"WHY, HELLO THERE DREAMER! "

"SEEMS TO ME THAT YOU'VE VENTURED OUT INTO THE MAGICAL WORLD OF DREAMLAND! "

SHIPS THAT (might) BE ADDITIONAL TO THE AU:

Showtime (Caine x Pomni) [heavily implied but it detaches from the AU]

Bunnydoll (Jax x Ragatha) [somewhat implied but by interactions, it's up to ya'll if you want it to be officially part of the AU or not]

Abstradegy (Gangle x Zooble) [similar situation as prior mentioned]

Chessboard (Kinger x Queenie) [married]

CHARACTER DESIGNS:

Pomni [Alias: "the dreamer"] (Designed God/Goddess/Host: Caine)

Caine [Alias: "Dreamscape's Host"]

Ragatha (coming soon) [Alias: "The Solar Servant"] (Designed God/Goddess/Host: Sun)

Jax (coming soon) [Alias: "Melancholy Valley's Mischief/Trouble maker"] (Designed God/Goddess/Host: Moon)

Kinger (coming soon) [Alias: "The Astronomer"] (Designed God/Goddess/Host: Formely Caine's, now Eclipse's)

Gangle (coming soon) [Alias: "Tarot, the chancellor, Advisor, Tragedy (sister/left mask) Comedy (brother/right mask), the conjoined twins"] (Designed God/Goddess/Host: Eclipse)

Zooble (coming soon) [Alias: "guard, knight, 'that thing' (only by Eclipse)"] (Designed God/Goddess/Host: Eclipse)

Sun [Alias: "Daydream's goddess/ ruler/ queen/ empress"]

Moon [Alias: "Melancholy Valley's goddess /queen/ empress"]

Eclipse [Alias: "the insane one, the gatekeeper, the madman, Deity of The Ephialtes"]

(NPCS SUCH AS GUMMYGOO AND PRINCESS LOOLILALU WILL ALSO MAKE AN APPREANCE, DEPENDING ON HOW THE STORY GOES)

☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆STORY (it's gonna be long, so brace yourselves. Or don't. You COULD skip the whole thing and pray everything will be explained in the comics/animations)⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡ :

[Take note that Dreamland's timeline is divided into three factors.]

BACKSTORY ERA (Before Pomni's arrival)

IN-BETWEEN PERIOD (before Pomni's arrival but with all the other members already set inside the world)

PRESENT TIME (Present day/after Pomni's arrival)

[☁︎_BACKSTORY ERA_☁︎]

Dreamland takes the place of an outside world beyond our 'astral bodies'. Where, due to an ancient temple made thousands of years ago, became its own physical plane and had, at first, two main gods. First is the goddess of light, day and daydreams, The Sun was in charge of both to rule the day with its giant light ball we all know and love, and to rule above and beyond the daydreams, whenever its people, who dream for a future, a purpose, or stay zoned out, everything related to detaching yourself from reality and make a second you in the DreamLand's plane (basically your conscience is torn into two- one half stays in the mortal realm and the other lives for the rest of their lives in Dreamland). Then was the Goddess of sombre, melancholy, night and, you guessed it! THE MOON! She does something very similar to what the Sun does, but instead of detaching from reality due to ambition, it's due to a mortal feeling sad, depressed and in need of comfort- in this case, the Moon helps the conscience be split and comforts the much sadder side in the 'other world', that way the one that stays on earth feels an unknown feeling of care while BEING cared for.

Though one day, the Sun and the Moon realized that their jobs were very overcrowded. Dreamland millions of years ago was WAY too tiny for them to have control over, and some were complaining about how 'off-putting the emptiness of the clouds and sky' were, so, they collaborated to expand Dreamland. Creating two new attached realms: The Daydream and its glorious Heaven City where all is perfection and happiness under the Sun's rule; and the Melancholy Valley, (which is also HEAVILY inspired by Undertale's waterfalls), which serves as a much more tranquil escape that is ruled by the Moon.

Of course, soon they realized that the original plane was getting too empty, so to still honour the ancient temple that brought everything together, they created Hypnos. Or later on, known as Caine. Now, Caine had a LOT of development through the years- at first, he started as a confused being who was being kind of babied by the Moon, only to then slowly become the Sun's disciple to learn how to manipulate clouds into any wish a Dreamer (human) desires! His main priority was that if any Dreamer were to appear on neither Sun's nor Moon's realms then he had to be in charge and to be nothing but entertainment to them. And so did he! Dreamers began to appear in the place known as the 'Dreamscape', where Caine would reside and do his absolute best to make them all smile. That is, until a new problem came to be for some reason, whenever a Dreamer wasn't satisfied with Caine's entertainment, they slowly began to grow conscience of their in-earth conscience.

Feeling dread and despair in realizing that this. All of this. That all of this wasn't real. Nor were they. Thus, they began to slip- and no matter what Caine tried to do, the dreams that they were meant to feel slowly turned into agony. From there they turned into Nightmares (Dreamland's abstractions). Of course, Caine, the Moon and the Sun don't know what to do. It slowly tormented all the dreamers in each realm and, with the threat of them turning into a Nightmare. They had no choice but to create a new realm. A realm that worked as a cellar, a prison, for all Nightmares to be imprisoned and confined. This is called 'The Ephialtes', where a new god took form. One much more powerful than the rest of them. Eclipse, the god/dess of madness, dementia, hallucinations, and hysteria.

[☁︎_IN-BETWEEN ERA_☁︎]

Even with all the security and protection that was promised with Eclipse's arrival and the Ephiltes, none of the gods felt any ease after the incident. To them, it was something that they were never prepared for. Not when the temple was first built, not even when they passed on to their own seperate realms, this was simply to them the impossible. So, just like the humans began to slip, so did the goddesses themselves and taking all the blame and hate on poor Caine. Sun, as the original tutor of Caine, felt like he had disappointed her expectations. She felt like it her responsibility for Caine's 'incompitence' and only blame it on him for being 'imprefect'. His 'imperfection' tinting on her reputation, and therefore Sun snapped and became a control freak. One who banished Caine out of Dreamland and implemented a cruel system on her city. All just to do two things; make sure her little heaven was "clean from impurity" and for everyone to be too distracted on becoming little perfect mannequins to question their exsistance. In a very strange and messed up way, it worked. As for moon, well, she deeply tried to reason herself into understanding Caine's situation as simply an accident, but yet she couldn't live with the feeling of dread of the possibility of it being on purpose, which obviously was not, but yet still it CRUSHED her.

So much so that she became an emotional, crying mess. Sob after sob, Melancholy Valley began to have terrible floods by the Moon's endless tears. Resorting in, instead of Moon being the one to comfort others, she was one who deeply needed comfort. It did, however, helped her little realm. Because everyone fell into the manipulation of either "comfort her or else we'll drown" or "we owe it to her, she had been the one who gave us tranquility so we have to do the same" that nobody thought of the impending doom, nor the feeling of dread of their de-attached bodies. Therefore, nobody got turned into Nightmares by how busy they all were trying to makeup to the goddesses's expectations. Everyone except Caine. He was devastated. Sun had banished him from Daydream and will continue re-enforcing security everytime he tried to reason with her or even come as close as APOLOGIZING, and Moon couldn't handle even LOOKING at his direction without letting out a hurricane! Every. single. time did a dreamer coem into his realm and tried to give his absolute all to entertain them, only to end up with them turning into Nightmarish monsters the very next 'day'. It made Caine desperate. Hopeful even. For perchance maybe, in some way, somehow, he could make a change. But he wasn't like the other gods. He couldn't make people feel incredible pity for him like Moon, neither could he be strict and strong as Sun. Hell if he could even come as close as Eclipse.

There was one time, however, where a dreamer came by and had a lot of pity on him. This beign Queenie who probably was the one of the only people who did have any care for him at the moment, which was an absolute RELIEF. He tried his very best to entertain her, make a show, enjoy the dreamer's company which it all lasted, and surprisingly enough, she did manage to stay up for a long time! She even fell inlove with another dreamer that came into Caine's realm, which... well, on his own fault, thought the man was about to turn into a Nightmare and threw him into Eclipse's realm without realizing Kinger was just... Kinger. But oh well, everythign was going very well for Caine and he even had a mother and son relationship with Queenie. Only to... well... turns out that Queenie was terribly ill. So much so that neither in her dream state could she run away from her body changing and eventually leaving her in her death bed. Her last wish being...? Well....

Clubble.

Mhm, might sound very shocking, but she dearly wished that Caine would've some forever company with him, even when there were no dreamers alone. So there you have it, clubble. You didn't expect that, would you? Of course, that STILL didn't save Caine from his terrible loneliness. Even less from griefing on Queenie's death. He became anxious, desperate even, to make up for his mistakes. So very much so that the colours of the world around him CONSTANTLY changed. When it was grey and lifeless, it was his heart aching for the want of company, to want and need of hearing a dreamer's laugh, and even when he's feeling despair and sadness, he starts to wish to see someone bright up his world. When there's colour, you can tell by the static filter that it's him wanting to go back in time, to when there was still a blue sky, when there was still laughter and joy, when the goddesses still considered him family. Those times, where there were moments of colour, were when Caine could do the impossible for a god. To dream.

[☁︎_PRESENT TIME_☁︎]

(Coming soon...)

[fateandloveentwined]

5 notes on Xie Lian and maybe a note more

omg this took so long i'll proofread in the morning. written in chinese originally, under "read more". annotations on [google docs] with translations to come because there are too many.

(if you do chinese, skip to the cut! it is way better than the translation cri.)

it is fortunate that their ship name is coined Hualian and not Hua-xie. The flower withers, the petals fall. Yet there is a time for blossoms, a time for withers — if huaxie it really is, still it is befitting of their eight hundred years of separations and reencounters.

仙花垂憐，川城傾謝。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在無間，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

o n e .

He was pierced by a hundred swords. Thereafter, he offered to be pierced again. The nightly terrors that prowl wild in his dreams: he was ready to embrace it once more. The heart pierces, and yet it trembles.

t w o.

A thought experiment: if Wuming didn't die for Xie Lian at the rematerialisation of the hundred swords, would Xie Lian have accepted his second ascension?

The world is a wretched sea. Mortals, misery. Some people carry with them the weight of conscience, atlas or abyss on their shoulders as they edge stepwise towards the heavenly skies, for they know that the higher they go, the more power they wield in their hands to change the course of the stars. Lin Shu stands on the shoulders of legacy and demarcates Conscience on the ground. He steps into the encirclement he has carved: he holds himself hostage and falls into the nether realms of the incessant inferno, subject to an unyielding pursuit for bygone honours and nobility in store. It takes courage, to live like this.

But it also takes another kind of courage, to not live like this. Xie Lian wasn’t like Lin Shu. Dethroned, mortalised, buried and stripped of power and grace, he wandered on earth for eight hundred years. He did not save the destitute mortals, desolate and crying for help. He did not bestow on them the bountiful blessings, as what a god could do. The did-not-do’s — it takes in another courage to be him.

t h r e e.

Had Xie Lian really collected scraps these eight hundred years? To deny would be an injury to his memoir, but there is more to that. He served as the high priest of a kingdom, a general to an army; through the grapevine, the crown prince in white had played many roles on the stage of life, a hundred years here in the role of one, and a hundred from forth in the robes of another. In time, the tales of the one who inspired rose and ebbed, yet the legacies remain. He didn’t protect the people with his deified status, yet what endures is his compassion and mercy. In the rain, the figure clad in white walks past the world in joy and tears and touches the hearts he passes — this was his salvation, and his ascension to godhood.

f o u r.

At his second banishment, Xie Lian implores Jun Wu to assuage him of his merit and luck. Mortals light incense in exchange for blessings in supplication. Xie Lian disperses Fortune to earth instead, and disassembles Divinity for the common people to carve out blessings of their own lives.

The works of one cannot salvage the teetering constructs of a foundering world. The world is a tapestry of woven histories; people save the people as the tales unfurl. The stitches tangling in a sea of light, blessed faces lit up in the night by the millions of lanterns adorning the households of the earth, keeping it bright as stars in the sky. And it was so, what Xie Lian and Hua Cheng did.

f i v e.

The sword nears his neck: he is unfazed. The tenderness and gentleness of the noble spirit endures, staid as the meekness of nephrite jade. In the vicissitudes of temperaments, he sits, blasé; he does not concern himself with the triumphs and setbacks of life.

Clouds and storms wash across the world as he continues, with eased smiles and casual dialogue.

It is the most pitiable thing, of all in the world, gazing upon one who smiles placid in face of abject misery. He laughs in his affliction, yet is there such a thing, to be okay in utter wretchedness?

Fleeting moments of forlornness and joy all condensed in the time of a single gaze: his experiences refine him into a jade of the heart. The days of the ingenuous youth awash in ages past, gone were the luckiest teen of the kingdom, but the pureness in the eyes behind the sheaths of pain remain.

— I’m used to it, it matters no more;

who is there in this race with him but the immutable laws of nature in the crescent moon and wind?

The splendour surges, the crowds fete, the splendour falls — in the desert there is none: there is no glass of water waiting at your salvation. Dust and silt fork at each’s turn of fate; flies shovel across the path towards their better destinies. So long as one has feelings, has desires, how could one be truly free? The flower remains. The vista is unchanged. Yet the splendorous tower — the radiant memories of the past — bygones — and still he says that although the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives content. Where, pray, is the fount of the utopian peach blossom? How so, that the heart is at peace, in face of all this?

Yet he is well. His heart at peace. Where the heart lies, the peach blossoms spring.

+ 1

Xie Lian is this person, as such. Though the spring of the peach blossoms have long since dwindled, he hopes, towards.

Original chinese version below the cut

所幸，他们选的CP叫花怜，不是花谢。不过“花落花开自有时”，若真为花谢，也配合他们这八百年的聚散离合罢。

仙花垂怜，川城倾谢。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在无间，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

一、

百剑穿身后复挺出，再一次历万剑戳戮之痛。这一点，我是痛心、亦是悸动的。

二、

有过这样的想法，花城若是没有为谢怜挡下了第二次的万剑戮身，怜怜是不是不会愧疚如斯，会接受第二次的飞升？

“琅琊榜”林殊跟谢怜是不一样的。苍生于苦海，有的人会承载着毕生愧疚跬步而行，因为上了天庭，才有最大的力气赋以一拼，拯救最多的人。此后一生举步维艰，承载着、背负着的不再是一个人小时候的清平理想，更是踩着他人骨脊向上爬行的椎心之痛——往后是画地为牢，是不顾己身也要焚尽一切，济众生于颠簸的无间岁月。这无庸置疑是一种勇气。

可谢怜没有这么做。失去了神力、身分，八百载流连人世，他没有拯救到苍穹下的芸芸众生，没有为他们争取最大的福祉。可这，也须要另一股勇气。

三、

谢怜这八百年真的去收破烂了吗？有，当然有。可他当过国师、当过将军，成就过数之不尽，江湖传闻中不为人知的百年故事。他没有以神明身分保佑万民，可他的慈怜犹存；雨中笠者，垂緌间点拂人间百态——这是他的拯救、他的神明。

四、

第二次飞升之际，谢怜哀求君吾散去自己一身功德、一身气运，自此潦倒人间历尽尘俗。人皆供神求福，谢怜将其福泽尽散，颠沛流离之人得享其华。他致神明于凡人，使世间重拾自由、意志。

孤木难支，一人之劳无能挽苍生、解万苦；大厦将倾，独木焉能匡扶？拯挽苍生，自苍生始，遂藉万民之手拯之。此后万家灯火灿若星河，烟火千里红尘无虞。谢怜、花城做到了。

五、

刀斧加身而神色不改、面无惧色，谦谦君子温润如玉，今古兴衰谈笑风生中雨过天青。宠辱不惊，看庭前花开花落；去留无意，望天上云卷云舒。

云淡风轻。

最疼是口是心非之人，三两莞尔散去心中阴霾，愈是疼痛，愈是笑逐颜开，浑若无事。可刀斧悬颈，万剐千刀，心中岂能无恙？

百般悲喜付诸抬首一眸，千番历练炼就柔和似水：如切如磋、如琢如磨。削磨净尽的是昔日的棱角利刃，透澈瞳帘背后是磔刑凌迟般的刀剜苦楚。“习惯了，不足为外人道矣”——清风拂我，明月清风我。

可笑这世间起朱楼、宴宾客，人情冷暖的荒漠里连救命的一杯水也不肯施舍。浮沉各异势；泣血蝇虫笑苍天：蚁排兵、蜂酿蜜，有感情、有欲望，世间焉得自在者？花相似、景依旧，烟锁秦楼、却道“身在无间，心在桃源”。桃源何在，心何安之？

然心安。心之所向，是桃源。

Tl;dr：谢怜就是这样的人。纵武陵人远，吾往矣。

Full annotations found here. Untranslated for now because there are simply too many; I suggest copying and pasting into the browser if you are interested in the poetry and verses cited. Many of them are not used as per their original meaning, however, so it is 99% on me if you caught the reference but did not understand it.

Anyhow, a note on the two most important allusions, because there is value in such:

[1] 身在无间，心在桃源。Whence the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives beyond, content.

A suggested translation of "Body in abyss, heart in paradise" because I vehemently abhor the official tl.

Incessant hints to the nirvana of buddhism. I didn't play with the idea of using paradise like in John Milton's poem to encapsulate the utopian ideals of Jin dynasty Tao Yuanming's Taoist Peach Blossom Spring visions. In Tao's essay he expresses the notion "I can live in a peaceful provincial paradise where the peach blossoms spring and forget about worldly matters", which is not exactly the biblical Eden. Probably owing to the idea that Xie Lian never actively sought out an extraterrestrial, heavenly, peach-blossom-spring paradise, I did not translate it literally here but figuratively, though opinion probably divides on this one.

[2] 纵武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。

念武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。——《凤凰台上忆吹箫·香冷金猊》 李清照

李氏取自：

烟锁凤楼无限事，茫茫，鸾镜鸳衾两断肠。——《南乡子·细雨湿流光》 冯延巳

Extreme liberties taken. Li Qingzhao wrote the first poem from the perspective of a lover. She sits at her own chambers reminiscing about her lost lover. This in turn was alluding to Feng Yansi's poem. Both works reference a tower/chamber where two mythical lovers spent their time at before ascension. As such, this phrase denotes here something unattainable from past memories and someone locked in perpetuum, in stasis, waiting for something to come.

In relation to this line on the chamber/tower by Li Qingzhao, a direct allusion to Tao Yuanming's peach blossom utopia was also alluded to in Li's poem in the antecedent line, despite both being used to speak of romance and not sociopolitical utopian ideals. The sleep-deprived me thus thought it "apt" to cite both lines in the writing to express Xie Lian's longing for the peach blossom paradise, despite said paradise being no longer extant on Earth, and him being in incessant hell. The peach blossoms in question tie in with mxtx's allusion of the peach blossom spring in tgcf's famous quotation; thus explains the reason for all the convoluted quoting.

this much for now. I hope something makes sense, at least. The english version is very, very figurative since I realised the chinese version was nigh impossible to literally translate without dedicating a relatively great amount of time to it. I don't know how this will be received at all, but why hi, and hope it is something at least xD

[danmeiconfession]

No. I think Shen Yuan never really see these people as people even at the ends of the book. My dude really condemned Shen Jiu a modern man really gave no shit or felt any sorrow towards his enslavement and abuse. I read a fully grown man with modern sensibilities and values watch a child being horrifically abused. A child that was ENSLAVED, restrained, beaten, TORTURED by another man, an OWNER. And I read SY's thoughts on the matter. Read him condemning the child and feeling no horror or disgust at the act of child abuse. He felt nothing regarding the immorality and cruelty of slavery. Hell, When ZZL murdered GYX who was only ever just, kind, and helpful in all his interactions and to SY himself, I was upset SY seemed to feel nothing and felt no censure towards ZZL or sadness or guilt towards GYX who was trying to save him. But I excused it as him having other things to do because maybe for SY, it's easier for him to just push aside feelings over someone's death to focus on other things (though I was unnerved that he never seemed to think of it again or care).

SY intentionally condoned the murder of dozens of individuals to save his own skin, and never wrestled with his conscience over it. While SJ's self-hatred is detrimental to himself and those around him, at least he struggles emotionally and morally with his decisions. He still does them, but at least he doesn't excuse them or not even feel guilt or shame. SY however is completely shameless in doing whatever it takes to live. I honestly find characters like this interesting, but I found SY's character to be lacking because the author wanted him to be a self-centered survivalist while also a sweet, holy mother/mentor figure to LBH. That's a BL trope I usually find tedious and boring, especially because authors never have said overly kind, overly forgiving characters be kind to anyone accept a handful of characters who are plot relevant (sometimes even only the ML or villain) while they treat every other character as air or cardboard.

I was so convinced of SY's point of view on the original characters and novel, that I kept making excuses as SVSS unfolded. When he recounted the scheming and murdering of Sha Hauling in PIDW while fanboying over how excited he was to see her, I excused it as him not realizing the gravity of her crimes when they're committed against living people. And once he decided she wasn't that great and LBH deserved better, I was assured, even though he seemed to only do so because she was rude to himself. When he celebrated O!LBH's torture and mutilation of SJ for bullying him in his teen years and even called for SJ's castration, I excused it because who doesn't want to see an evil pedophile get what they deserve, and fans can get overly enthusiastic sometimes, even if calling for slow, multi-year mutilation and torture is a bit extreme even if LBH is your favorite characte

It seems a lot SJ haters like to excuse LBH's behavior the way they claim SJ fans excuse SJ's. LBH was the poor kid and bullied by kids in the neighborhood, then singled out and bullied at his school, before being treated to the abyss where he utilized the training he received at CQ and his innate demon heritage to establish himself. In PIDW, he proceeds to commit large scale mass murder, borderline genocide, destroy the human realms sects and defenses against spiritual and demonic threats, all why gruesomely maiming, torturing, dismembering, disemboweling, and feeding alive anyone he disliked. Uhhhh... disproportionate, much. Bitch slap and shame people if you want, but O!LBH is a monstrous, self-centered, sadistic freak show. He goes far beyond a victim of abuse reacting with anger and defensiveness. He controls the lives and wellbeing of all the people in the realms, and repeatedly makes time to find enjoyment in the torture, pain, and suffering of others on a scale he had never experienced himself. Meanwhile, SVSS!LBH still decided to start widespread violent capture of cultivators to date Xin Mo while SY was out of the picture only sparing CQ because he knew once SY was brought back, SY would be upset with him if he did. He shows no care for anyone else, human or demon, in the world of SVSS besides SY. His only regards for others are as useful allies and subordinates, enemies, and people he knows SY would lightly scold and admonish him for killing. LBH is fucked up in every universe, whether he gets bullied at school, or his teacher turns him into a live in homemaker.

At best, I could excuse this as SY not seeing other people as actual people. Maybe because he read about them as fictional characters first, he can't fully perceive them as humans, just characters, not as real people like him and SQH. Maybe he made an exception for LBH because LBH is his favorite character. But that care and regard clearly don't extend to anyone else.

I have no idea where people get the idea he sees them as real he doesn't. I couldn't care about a protagonist who didn't react with shock or horror or even just resigned sadness to child slavery. I couldn't give a shit about his romance anymore. I stopped reading. To be clear, I don't hate SY, or even his type of character. I'm just disappointed because I went into SVSS thinking I'd be getting a cute, sweet, slightly stupid, modern nerd flailing though a comedic romance full of ridiculous misunderstandings and pitfalls. It turned out, I got a self-centered, apathetic fanboy simultaneously stalking while trying to avoid and stay on the good side of his mentally unstable, over powered idol. Which I've actually read before too, but at least the author wasn't forcing every other character to remark on how sweet, kind, and good the fanboy who cared about nothing but his favorite character was.

Clearly, his anti-abuse philosophy only extended to LBH and no other child. He felt nothing regarding the immorality and cruelty of slavery." The hypocrisy displayed by SY is astonishing. It's fascinating how SY condemns child abuse, expressing concern for Binghe's mistreatment, yet dismisses Binghe's daily killings over five years to control Xin Mo as a consequence of past abuse. There's an apparent double standard. Moreover, in the same breath, witnessing SJ's appalling abuse, SY downplays its impact, suggesting that SJ's mistreatment doesn't excuse his transformation into a reprehensible individual. SY seems to overlook the scumbag-like behavior, focusing instead on SJ's skills, status, beauty, hard work, and wealth.

Why do people like this character lol?

.

[lilianade-comics]

Did you ever have any more ideas for the AU where Dani was wandering around the ghost zone looking for Danny and had spellbound Vlad into helping? It was such a good inspiration for daydreams, for me, especially how Dani and Vlad interacted while she slowly grew on him. Probably because he’d be deep in denial to the point he wouldn’t notice why he was becoming more comfortable around her and not bothering to be as snappish, other than thinking he was just tired.

How do you think they’d reunite after the incident where Vlad frames himself to find Dani? I can’t imagine Dani would never want to see him again, so she might try to sneak back to places where she was with him, or summon him in secret. Vlad, once getting over the surprise she still wants to talk and what remained of his ego, might have no problem with interacting with Dani as long as she kept it private. And would Dani eventually want to reintroduce Vlad and Danny once she becomes more open with him? It seems like she might, to have a more honest relationship with her brother. To which Vlad would Definitely Not agree, his reputation could not survive it getting around that he actually was attached to this girl. That’s something they might butt heads about.

I think that after they separate, that's when Pariah Dark ramps up the conflict as the main villain (I don't really have many details fleshed out for the wider plot of the AU beyond Dani's personal quest, but I imagine that Pariah probably likes to eat the living people unfortunate enough to find themselves in the ghost realm, or the ones he can get his hands on at least, as Vlad mentioned is a thing that sometimes happens in that AU comic I did.)

Because Pariah's no doubt gotten wind of the whole "living girl is actively running around his kingdom looking for That Little Pest Danny Phantom and has also apparently magically bound his most Aggravating Rival" situation, he's out looking for Dani. I think Vlad winds up getting apprehended after leaving Dani to Danny (he can't catch a break in this AU) and after getting confronted by the Ghost King himself Vlad no doubt vehemently denies ever having gotten himself bound by a child, and he swears up and down that there is NO living girl in the realm, and clearly Pariah needs to invest in better spies, etc.

Through circumstances not fully fleshed out yet, this likely ends up turning into a "Vlad wrestles with his conscience and his ego and finally gives up and escapes Pariah & returns to Dani in an attempt to persuade her to leave the ghost realm before the Ghost King eats her" kind of deal. Because Vlad cares about her! Which is highly unusual for him and he doesn't really like it! Having feelings is stressing him out!

Vlad definitely tries to do this secretly, but Dani gets her brother involved anyway. The context of how Vlad and Dani are actually friendly with each other takes a lot of explaining. (Danny probably laughs for about thirty straight minutes when his sister recounts the magic binding part of the story. Vlad looks ready to throttle him but doesn't, miraculously.)

Danny and Vlad argue viciously over the whole thing, for obvious reasons. Danny is probably against Dani leaving; he's dealt with Pariah before and he's confident his crew can protect her. (Danny probably knows of some really good hiding places where she'd be safe, after all, he was never eaten by Pariah so clearly they have a chance!) He's mostly accepted that Dani is his long lost sister at this point, and he's not about to lose her so suddenly. Vlad is NOT amused, mostly because he's rapidly succumbing to parental brain rot and the children are refusing to listen to him. His whole reputation is actively crumbling around him, lol.

Again, details are all incomplete right now, but the vibes, you know? Vlad is a proud, lonely warlord who thirsts for power and attention and now he's been reduced to worrying about some dumb little girl who he "hates." She humiliated and bound him and he should be excited that Pariah is plotting to cook her on a spit. Instead, he's stuck allying himself with a bunch of fool teenagers who he also hates, all in a wild attempt to keep her safe. Rest in Peace, Vlad, because you're not coming back from this one with that reputation intact!

[witchofthesouls]

Alternatively, Prima can be the one doing the dealing. He's developed a guilty conscience over leading his brothers into a trap, & seeing them get forcibly Claimed broke something inside of him. He used to be more aloof & stern. Now, he constantly checks on his siblings & is is highly disproportionate in dealing with threats to their safety. Massively overcorrecting in an attempt to make up for past behavior. His corruption is more physical than mental (tho there is still some mind fraggery going on back there). His body is beginning to swell up with the accumulated souls. He still refuses medical attention most of the time (read: anytime his siblings are slightly bruised or dented). He makes a deal with Vince's (Jack's bully in Prime) family. Decades later, Vince has to deal with the full Helicopter Grandpa experience.

I got set headcanons for the Thirteen, so in an AU where they're all claimed by Earth, Prima and Megatronus would be the main ones that anchor Unicron into the planet, ensuring the Dark God couldn't escape as no one could escape their grasp when the twins work together.

(Unicron absolutely fucking hates them because they are a literal reflection of Primus and Unicron, yet they were capable of cooperation unlike the first set of splitted twins. This ironically would Unicron little more active out of sheer rage and spite to bring their alliance down.)

It would be interesting to explore how Earth would differ, especially with all the siblings there and Earth being Earth.

Since Prima rules above and Megatronus rules below, they can still keep tabs on everyone and everything. However, they can only speak in dreams and visions, in the space-between-spaces, in places where the physical and spirit worlds intersect. They literally carved their own bones to cage Unicron. They don't have a physical form at the moment, but they are able to communicate through divine instruments and champions.

Solus would most likely lend their strength to them, bridging life and death in a perpetual cycle of renewal and destruction. Who else had applied the glyphs to their structures to further chain the Unmaker?

Quintus would most likely be lost. He's Gaea's first love. The Fallen Star who pulled down the rest of the once distant constellation. She won't let him go. He would be trapped in a dream within a dream. Deep within Elsewhere.

Liege Maximo would be an eternal wandering bard and trickster. Alpha Trion would be a traveler as well. Constantly documentating the ventures and refining searches. Alpha would have preferences for institutions compared to Liege, who goes where hearths are.

I doubt there would be a Law of Separation on this version of Earth, so definitely a lot of wilder shit going on here...

And on Cybertron.

Imagine if this Earth became the Cybertronian version of the Underworld/ Underhill/the Realm Beyond? Primes still gotta happen, right?

What if mecha used Earth for a spirit quest because that entire place is too trippy to rationalize it as a real planet? So there's the birth of new mythos and folktales, especially if some of them get stolen or bring back a spouse.

[elwenyere]

Kelly Hayes, from "Beyond the Blame: Fighting for Each Other in the Face of Fascism"

Our dependence on social media, which has intensified in harmful ways during the pandemic, has only worsened these divides. While these platforms hold some utility for our movements, we were never meant to live the bulk of our political lives in these realms. Social media has damaged our ability to communicate across difference, rewarding acrimony, sanctimony, and excommunication. Modeling politics has too often replaced the work of doing politics. At some point, many people of conscience lost the ability to engage in principled disagreement—if they ever bothered to learn. For many, persuasion isn’t even an option anymore. Quite often, political discourse is about categorizing people, dividing us into the morally correct and the morally irredeemable, with no middle ground and no plan to change the math. It’s as though many people believe they can simply disqualify the majority of humanity from political life, thereby saving the world.

...

It’s important to remember that our political aspirations have not been vanquished. We are not on the cusp of positive transformation, but that does not mean that all hope is lost or that we cannot breathe new worlds into being. During my four decades on this earth, I have repeatedly witnessed victories and political transitions that I did not believe were possible. I have also experienced losses that reshaped the political terrain, paving the way for future victories. We should never give up on transformation and material change. We are all worth fighting for, no matter how bleak the situation may be and no matter the odds. Determined, organized people have toppled dictators, ended oppressive institutions, including chattel slavery, and freed each other from the clutches of carceral systems. In dark times, people have always found ways to make their own light. That work is now upon us. To undertake it, many of us must face feelings we’d rather avoid. People who cannot self-regulate emotionally or engage in principled disagreement will not create stable, sustainable movements. You can’t organize people you hold in contempt. As I write these words, I can already hear some people justifying their anger. I will not argue with your litany of grievances against your potential allies. I have a lot of justified anger, too. But I try to be selective about expressing it because my political goals matter more to me than the temporary satisfaction of lashing out. If you believe the whole world is at stake, as I do, ask yourself: How much discomfort is the whole world worth? How important is your need to lash out? How can you balance your impulses with what you know must be done? I’m not saying to suppress your anger or hold it inside. It’s important to have outlets. This is a good time to vent the fury we need to express in group chats, with trusted friends, and in therapy. Be intentional about where you put these feelings. If you need to break something, then break something—as safely as you can. Rage rituals are a legitimate form of self-expression. (As Fiona Apple said, “Better that I break the window / Than him or her or me.”)�� To everyone hurting right now: please make space for your grief. Don’t let anger shield you from sadness or bury your pain in escapism. Let your heart break over what’s ahead. Accept that, no matter how hard we fight, there are harms we will not halt. If that awareness brings tears to your eyes, then weep. Spend time with your grief, share it, and find comfort in your loved ones. Engage with the land and water, and feel your connection to the biosphere we must defend. Immerse yourself in art, music, and all that remains beautiful in this world. Humanity is flawed, but our capacity for kindness, connection, and transformation is real, too. Take solace in decency—it’s still there. Our capacity to do good can be nurtured. It can grow and flourish, but that cultivation is collective work. We cannot change the world alone. We must learn how to be flawed and human and messy together. We must learn how to forgive and how to do the work of collective survival with people we don’t like or understand. We must recognize that, while principled critiques are often necessary, we have to communicate like people who still need each other–because we do. A lot of people out there are not going to be ready to do the work I’m describing until they make space for their grief and pain and for the grief and pain of others. If you are hurting right now, remember that the pain you are feeling is a natural consequence of your decency. Don't try to bury that. Nurture the tender parts of yourself. Your capacity to feel other people’s pain is inextricably linked to your potential to change the world. Your grief is bound up in your understanding that an injury to one is an injury to all and that all of our fates are connected. Evading your grief will only compound your angst and isolation, or even increase your tolerance for injustice. We cannot afford to let that happen. 

[the-marron]

No context, just behold my f/f ship that is so niche that it doesn't even quailfy as a rare-pair (I love them tho)

[velovw]

Benevolence’s Dance.

Synopsis: Amidst war's chaos, a dance of deception and kindness unfolds, testing compassion and deceit in the enigmatic system of Ramattra.

a/n: I wrote this in the spam of 2 months, slightly proof read. I was inpired by @ya-zz​ to write, shout out to their work and blog!

Pairing: Ramattra x reader.

Words: 6k.

   In the realm of war, where ethics often surrendered to harsh conditions, Ramattra found himself making choices that defied conventional morality. He understood that sacrifice was an inevitable companion on the treacherous path to ensuring the triumph of his kind. His conscience bore the weight of this decision, not out of remorse for your sake, or the humans, but rather from a profound awareness of the potential suffering it would inflict upon Zenyatta - a potential sense of distrust between both Omnics.

Despite his master's constant preaching about the redeeming qualities of humans, Ramattra remained unconvinced and quite frankly, uninterested. To him, humans embodied a multitude of negative traits. Whether it was their inherent selfishness and arrogance or their self-destructive tendencies and inability to see beyond their own interests, humans appeared as a cruel force, gradually destroying all other forms of life, including their own. Ramattra believed that such a destructive way of existence warranted a demise filled with agony and suffering.

Ramattra harbored a profound disdain for you, a prominent figure in humanity, renowned and idolized not for your achievements or righteousness, but merely by virtue of your birth into a royal lineage. What aggravated his contempt even further was the knowledge that your family held the purse strings of the human armies, funding their weaponry and enticing more soldiers with promises of treasures should they emerge victorious in battle.

Such acts were undeniably cruel, and it was this very cruelty that absolved the omnic of any remorse for his own planned actions. His intentions were merely a reciprocal response, employing the same cruelty he had witnessed. 

While anticipating your arrival at Zenyatta's temple, Ramattra endured a tormenting impatience that consumed him like a smoldering fire. Normally cold and calculated, he found it arduous to masquerade as a warm and amiable omnic in your presence. This endeavor proved to be far more challenging than resorting to brute force alone. No, he needed to orchestrate a scenario that would position you perfectly vulnerable to the imminent omnic onslaught. 

And what better setting than the annual Royal Parade? How fitting it would be for that event to mark your final breath. Born amidst adoring gazes, you would now perish while those very same gazes converted into terrified ones.

Ramattra's audio receptors swiftly detected the frenetic movements of the Omnics converging upon the temple gate, abruptly interrupting his contemplations. Rising from his seated position, he deliberately left his staff behind, believing that relinquishing his weapon would signify his harmless intentions. The notion of appearing defenseless and amicable, a façade he never thought he would desire, became his utmost priority — albeit solely for the sake of a human.

With measured and cautious steps, Ramattra swiftly closed the distance between himself and the designated room where you would briefly reside. And there you stood.

The royal figure stood before him, adorned with a breathtaking elegance that left no doubt of your exalted status. The attire exuded opulence and refinement, each element meticulously chosen to embody luxury and prestige. You were adorned with extravagant jewelry, sparkling like constellations against a midnight sky. Diamonds and gemstones cascaded from your neck and head, shimmering with every movement, reminiscent of a celestial adornment befitting a Goddess. The jewels almost blinded Ramattra from how many there were. He had heard tales of the royals, this was the very first time he was laying his optics upon one other than a picture. 

"This is Ramattra." – Zenyatta's familiar voice rang out across the room.

As you turned your gaze towards Ramattra, his optics swiftly fixed upon your face, capturing the sight of a seemingly gentle smile gracing your lips. It was a smile he knew all too well from the countless pictures he had seen. A smile that bore an artificial veneer of gracefulness, devoid of genuine emotion — a lesson he had learned all too keenly from other humans. 

"Yes, it is my pleasure." Ramattra spoke out slightly awkward.

"No need for formalities, this is a big step for us. Having you on the parade will give hope to the people."

The unfamiliar timbre of your voice immediately registered within Ramattra's system, prompting him to store it in his memory banks with meticulous precision. It was a precautionary measure, a means to identify you amidst a buzzing crowd of thousands, should fate spare you from the fatal blast of the Omnic's weapon. He understood the seriousness of being able to discern your presence, for it was only then that he could ensure your demise befittingly and without error. 

"Yes, undoubtedly so."

Amidst the gravity of the situation, a subtle amusement flickered within Ramattra's circuits. The irony of human trust and its inherent vulnerability to deception captivated his thoughts. How astonishing it was to witness the depths of your newfound trust, oblivious to the perils that lay within such unwavering faith. To him, you remained an enemy, an adversary cloaked in a façade of friendliness.

Behind Ramattra's impassive faceplate, a flurry of electrical impulses raced through his system. With seamless efficiency, your appearance, voice, and location were transmitted to his awaiting army, a cloaked process that would remain concealed from your awareness until your final breath.

"Are you nervous?"

The unexpected inquiry about his well-being momentarily caught Ramattra off guard. He had not anticipated such a concern from the likes of you, as it seemed to be quickly swept aside as trivial small talk. To him, it was a display of the human inclination to engage in seemingly meaningless conversations, an attempt to forge connections and establish bonds—an endeavor that he found to be nothing more than a futile and foolish pursuit between the two of you.

"Why would I?"

With a hint of mocking laced beneath his voice, Ramattra asked a simple question. As he tilted his head slightly, he observed your eyes visibly flinch with discomfort. A spark of satisfaction ignited within him, relishing the fact that he had unsettled a royal figure, someone who, among many others, should exude confidence and poise. Your gaze swiftly averted from his, revealing your unease—a subtle triumph for Ramattra to wield power over someone of your esteemed status.

However tempting it was to revel in your fear, Ramattra knew that his primary focus remained on the task at hand. There were more critical matters to attend to, and right now, that meant earning a small sliver of trust from you. With a subtle clearing of his throat, he skillfully redirected your gaze back to him, making sure to have your full attention before he spoke.

"Although, I definitely appreciate your presence. It is… calming."

Striving to rectify his momentary slip of hostility, Ramattra wracked his circuits for something, anything that could salvage the situation. Over your shoulder, he caught sight of Zenyatta offering him a small nod, clearly pleased to witness his attempts at befriending a human. Ramattra couldn't dwell on Zenyatta's presence for too long, for the weight of guilt washed over him in waves, each one reminding him of the forthcoming future. It pained him to acknowledge that he would cause Zenyatta harm, albeit indirectly, delivering a blow that would undoubtedly wound their bond.

Ramattra was not oblivious to the caring gazes and the tender voice Zenyatta reserved for you. Witnessing the way Zenyatta walked with you around the temple, explaining the intricacies of an Omnic's life—their struggles and joys—left Ramattra bewildered. How could Zenyatta, fully aware of your family's involvement in the war, be so trusting and open, seemingly embracing vulnerability like a naive fool?

The Omnic could not fathom what you might do with the information you gleaned from Zenyatta. The thought gnawed at him, fueling his uncertainty and deepening the growing sense of suspicion towards your intentions. It seemed incomprehensible to Ramattra that Zenyatta willingly exposed himself to potential exploitation, and he grappled with understanding the nature of your interactions.

"I'm glad, Ramattra. I know of our differences, but I'm eager to make amends."

Your voice was soft, a small smile grazing your features as you spoke towards him. 

Lies. 

As much as Ramattra desired to believe that you were different from the rest of your kind, he found it nearly impossible to reconcile that notion. The fact that you shared the same blood, lived among humans, and were raised and educated alongside them only intensified his bitter disdain. His circuits pulsed with a surge of animosity, yearning to obliterate you in that very moment. However, the temptation of the unfolding spectacle soon to come proved too enticing to ignore. The message he would convey through his act would resonate loudly and clearly, leaving no room for doubt or ambiguity.

"I am also eager for our plans."

After a brief pause, Ramattra spoke, his head nodding subtly as he maintained an upright posture, emphasizing his full height. In response, you approached him, your hands folded in front of you, an expression of respect. Then, with a gracious gesture, you lowered your head in a bow, acknowledging Ramattra's presence and silently thanking him.

The act of bowing was a gesture typically reserved for interactions between royals, yet you chose to bestow it upon Ramattra, driven by the recognition of the pain and suffering inflicted upon him and his army by your own family. In that momentary pause, you held the position, emphasizing the amount of your respect. Only after a few seconds did you return to standing tall, a faint smile playing upon your lips as you met Ramattra's gaze.

In your eyes, Ramattra sensed a twinge of pity, mingled with an enigmatic emotion he couldn't quite grasp. Perhaps it was a hint of regret, whispering softly in the depths of your gaze. Though the meaning made him curious, he chose to let the thoughts drift away, redirecting his attention to the present moment.

"I'm sorry, for everything." — Your voice was barely a whisper. "But, I hope this can show my change of heart."

You felt a pang of disappointment as Ramattra only nodded towards you, his gaze swiftly turning to his brother standing nearby. It was clear that expecting his complete trust was nothing more than a naive hope. Suppressing a sigh, you concealed your disappointment, not wanting to reveal your true feelings in response to his indifference.

Your gaze shifted towards the clock in the room, noting that the Royal Parade was fast approaching. Soon, you would be required to board the open carriage alongside Ramattra, an action that would carry a profound message. It would serve as a visual testament, showcasing the shifting perspectives of the royal families towards Omnics. Despite the potential loss of supporters and financial resources, a small part of your family had come to understand your viewpoint. They now recognized that Omnics were not merely soulless machines, but beings with shared qualities and complexities akin to humans.

"Your highness, It is time."

As the familiar voice of your devoted maid filled the room, it served as a gentle reminder to return to the present moment. She walked towards you, her skilled hands delicately tending to every detail of your jewelry, ensuring its flawless alignment. Her eyes, filled with admiration, traced the contours of your silk ensemble, her careful touch gently smoothing the fabric, bestowing an extra touch of elegance upon your divine presence.

"Yes, of course! Please follow me, Ramattra." — you gave the auspicious Omnic another small smile.

"I'll be right behind you."

The meticulous process of preparing you for the carriage ride, with every intricate detail attended to, undoubtedly tested Ramattra's patience. His desire was to expedite the proceedings and get things underway. Yet, when he finally took his seat beside you, beholding your presence, an unexpected pang of sympathy stirred within the omnic. He couldn't help but feel a sense of sorrow for you. Your last moments would be marked by pretense and artifice, a facade meticulously crafted for the sake of your loyal followers, offering them a fleeting illusion of closeness to their revered figure.

Unbeknownst to those present, farther along the carriage route, two stealthy Omnics had skillfully eliminated the guards in the vicinity. Armed with a lethal sniper rifle specifically designed to neutralize even the most formidable of Omnics, their intentions were clear: to ensure your swift demise. There would be no opportunity for rescue, no chance to let out a scream. The weapon they possessed was overkill, but its purpose was unwavering — to ensure that your life would abruptly and definitively come to an end.

"Don't worry. No one will harm you in any way, I made sure the security was stronger this Parade."

It was quite comical, to have you say that without the knowledge of his plans. 

"I am grateful." – Ramattra replied simply.

As Ramattra's gaze remained fixed in the distance, not even sparing a glance in your direction, a wave of unease washed over you. It wasn't that you believed he harbored ill intentions towards you, but rather the uncertainty of whether you had made a good impression. The realization that impressing the leader of the Omnics was a skill you were never taught added to your growing anxiety. Years of learning to embody grace and gentility, always wearing a smile regardless of the circumstances, had been ingrained in you solely to please humans. Now, faced with the presence of Ramattra, you found yourself grappling with the unfamiliar challenge of leaving a lasting impact on an entirely different species.

Never were you taught on how to amend wrongs that weren't even your own doing, but you had to try.

"Is there something I can do to make you feel more comfortable?"

A simple question hung in the air, and Ramattra couldn't help but be intrigued by its underlying significance. After all, he was already comfortably seated within the fancy confines of the royal carriage. There seemed to be no reason for discomfort or unease. And yet, the question lingered, leaving him puzzled as to its true intention.

"You feel as if I'm uncomfortable?"

"Yes. You seem distant."

Ramattra couldn't help but emit a scoff, his gaze finally shifting to meet yours. Though his face remained hidden, you could sense a subtle annoyance emanating from him. It was a response, however, and even a hint of irritation was preferable to the void of indifference.

"Why do humans always ask pointless questions? What is it to you?"

His voice came out sharp, slightly letting go of his facade of comfort.

"Because I care. You may not believe it yet, but I'll try my best to show it to you."

"I think your kind has done enough."

Silence.

The only thing Ramattra could hear was the soft humming of his cooling fans, trying to get rid of the overload in his system. Hostility. 

As Ramattra gazed down at you, he could discern a palpable sense of disbelief reflected in your eyes. Your once-relaxed posture had now tensed, and he realized that he had indeed made a grave misstep. Your face turned away from him, staring ahead with a regal defiance, chin held high. Another scoff escaped Ramattra's lips as he, too, averted his gaze, fixing his eyes on the front. Even in moments like these, your pride remained unyielding. The thought infused Ramattra's system with an overwhelming distaste for your character.

Unbeknownst to Ramattra, your actions of turning away were not driven by pride, but rather by an attempt to regain composure. The insult inflicted upon you struck deeply, especially considering your sincere efforts to make amends and distance yourself from your family's beliefs. By deviating from their approval and creating a visible rift within the royal family, you had hoped to convey a clear message of your individuality and desire for change. In that vulnerable moment, you had believed that Ramattra's willingness to participate in the parade alongside you held a deeper significance—an acknowledgment of your sacrifices, separate from the influence of your lineage. It was a fleeting hope, and the realization that it might have been misjudged left you feeling disheartened and powerless.

Though tears threatened to spill from your eyes, you fought against them, determined to maintain composure. Allowing yourself to cry would only heighten the discomfort, not just for yourself, but also for Ramattra. You couldn't risk your supporters, who came to see you in the Parade, who stood by your side in this ideological battle, witnessing your vulnerability in tears. It would undermine the meaning and significance behind your cause, and a sense of futility washed over you, intensifying the weight of the situation.

"Did you lie?" – You prompted.

"About what?"

"That you thought my presence was calming. You said so earlier."

Despite your best efforts to maintain a firm tone, Ramattra keenly perceived the slight difference in your voice, an indication that you were holding back your emotions. However, he chose not to point it out, allowing the unspoken understanding to hang in the air between you. 

"I did not."

"Then why does it feel like you still see me as a threat?"

The question you posed had a simple answer - because he still did. But Ramattra had to work his system quickly, trying to come up with a lie, with anything that would make you feel less insecure about sitting beside him. 

"We have been killing each other for months, even years. Do you expect a simple Parade to fix your kind wrongdoings?"

It left you speechless momentarily, but you knew he was right. You would be lying to say that you didn't feel afraid of him slightly still, but you were trying to power through it. But that didn't mean Ramattra felt, or thought, the same. He was different. Had different opinions and choices. While thinking about the image you two would give out, you consequently had forgotten to think about how he felt. 

You had asked questions about his comfort, but not about his true feelings.

"I'm sorry."

A sigh escaped your mouth as a hand came to pinch your temple, a small headache forming from all the stressful thoughts. 

"You're right. This doesn't fix anything." – you continued.

"Quite the opposite. Omnics might think I'm playing lap dog. Bowing down my head in respect for the ones that killed and persecuted us without remorse. Treated less than animals."

Ramattra was quick to let his feelings known, not shying away from using drastic and accusing terms. Part of him felt angry and bitter towards this talk, but another part of him felt… free from speaking his honest thoughts. For him, you were caught up in a delusion that Omnics were less. And to change that would be hard, no matter how willing you were to show that.

"I'm sorry." – You whispered softly.

Naturally, one of your hands went to rest on top of his own, a comforting motion that you had learned ever since you were young. Ramattra didn't take kindly to your touch, quickly removing his hands from yours roughly, his hinges pinching your skin slightly as they moved away. 

"You people think saying sorry will bring back brothers and sisters I've lost? You're selfish, egocentric, the only thing you truly care about is power. Having control over everything."

His words felt like razors, and they hurt more than the aching of your skin where he had accidentally pinched you. Your hands rubbed over the spot, trying your best not to show any form of pain in front of him. Somehow, it felt selfish to do so when he was clearly in a much worse state of pain than yours. Tormented by the war and the things he had seen. 

Even if his words were hurtful, you knew he needed to get them out, to express his disdain to you. So whatever relationship you two would create would be free of resentment and misunderstanding. So you simply sat by him, nodding along with his words. Somehow, the jewelry on top of your head felt heavier than before – like it was there due to his kind destruction.

"I understand."

The words that left your mouth left Ramattra speechless. He didn't know what to feel, but mainly, he felt rage.

"Understand? Do you truly, your highness?"

"Yes. That's why I'm here, to try and make amends. No matter how hard it might be."

Ramattra could only scoff once again, in disbelief at your complete state of ignorance. There was no fixing the deaths that your kind had caused, the treatment of omnics as slaves and mere objects.

As the carriage began to move, it was clear that soon the both of you would be under the watchful eye of your admirers. It wouldn't be a good look to have such a heated question in front of them, and even if Ramattra disliked it, he knew it was true. So he simply turned away from you, his cooling fans working to relax his body so he wouldn't appear as stiff.

After all, he shouldn't be seen as a threat. Not for now, at least.

On your side, you made sure to keep your head held high with a smile on your face as the people started appearing in your view. The light of the sun blinded you for a second, but that didn't stop you from doing your duties. 

The city was buzzing, and as soon as the people saw the carriage, they started cheering. A happy look on everyone's faces as they witnessed the change you had promised them unfold, even if it only was the start. Ramattra felt slightly out of place, sat next to you, with a crowd of humans staring at him with… admiration? The change was eerie, he was used to being looked upon with fear, disdain or disgust for his actions. It slowly set in his systems that Ramattra had never seen humans stare at him in such a way, even you, during your first meeting with him, showed respect that was saved especially for royals. 

As the carriage kept moving, the decorated route pathway got more and more excited with how friendly Ramattra seemed to be. Even if it wasn’t entirely true, it wasn’t an untruth, he really didn’t know what to do in this situation. So he only kept staring at the humans, giving small head nods everytime his optics made contact with human eyes. 

Gazing towards Ramattra, it was borderline adorable how confused and lost the Omnic seemed to be. It was a good change of attitude for him. He almost seemed afraid of the change, but it only proved to you further that he had a good heart - or well, system. It only made your view on Omnics further concrete into a positive light. 

"We're in stand-by."

The voice that came by his systems was recognized to be his soldiers. Ramattra didn't shift or make any motions that would appear suspicious, simply sending them Omnicode to confirm the procedure without any problems. Everything was according to plan and looked easy to achieve from now on. It was all a time bomb now. 

Ramattra’s system felt slightly relieved that all of this show would be over soon in a single moment, the damage would be done and there would be no way to repair it. Perhaps killing a member of the royal family that mostly everyone looked up to would be a clear death wish. But Ramattra felt confident in his army and his own ability to handle the backlash of his own actions.

“You’re doing well.”

You smiled towards the omnic, who only answers with a short nod of his head – at least, he acknowledges you. It’s enough to calm your anxiety being next to him, but you feel like it isn’t enough to give him the sense of your truthfulness to the cause.

“I just wanted to say, whether you believe me or not, that’ll support you and your decisions. Although I can’t help you with war, I’ll provide you with anything you and your army need for their well-being.”

The way you so kindly said those words, your voice soft and gentle – it made Ramattra speechless. What should he say back to such promises? Especially when they wouldn't mean nothing in mere minutes.

"I thank you." 

Ramattra's voice was soft, softer than you have ever heard before. It somewhat felt like he was sad, or thinking too much about a topic that was making him feel anxiety. Whatever it was, you could hear it from him.

"And I'm sorry." – His words came to a close.

He turned his gaze towards you, his expression shifting. Ah, so that was the reason behind his aggression. The weight of this realization evoked a gentle sympathy within you, prompting a kind smile. You harbored no resentment towards his outburst, understanding that it stemmed from encountering royalty for the first time—the very individuals who had funded the armies responsible for the loss of the ones he proclaimed family.

"Please, don't apologize."

As your eyes glanced towards his hand, poised near yours, a gentle whisper escaped your lips in response. Delicately, you initiated a slow meeting of your hands, allowing him the freedom to withdraw at will. As your palms enclosed his mechanical hand, a serene smile adorned your face, you stared up at him once again.

"We'll make things right." – you said.

Ramattra couldn't phantom how understanding you were, how gentle you were treating when he clearly had shown his animosity towards you. The harsh words he spoke and the way he acted, all were uncalled for if he really stopped to think for a second. They were actions prompted by feelings of hatred, not towards you – it seemed. But to those he associated with you, and his system was slowly starting to realize the difference between you and them.

No.

He had no time for this, his mission was set and he wouldn't let himself fall for mere human false promises. Ramattra was more than this, he was smarter and his opinion wouldn't change. He hated you. He hated everything you stood up for. He hated where you came from. He hated everything. Unashamedly so.

But, he would allow you to find solace in him for your last moments. A small token of his gratitude for being so open and welcoming. Perhaps, in another life, you would grow to be more weary of those you let near.

"We will." – Ramattra replied.

He let his hand slightly squeeze yours back, just enough to see your eyes glitter with happiness and appreciation towards him. 

Everything was set.

The curtain call.

From the 7th floor of a building nearby, behind glass, Ramattra's army charged the weapon. The rifle pointed towards your head with meticulous precision, following your movements. They only needed Ramattra to simply move his head slightly to the side, to ensure he wouldn't be hit by the killing blast. 

Ramattras head tilted slightly to look at the spot where his Omnics were, a small nod on their way to confirm their plan.

This was it.

Fire.

With the trigger being pulled back, a loud noise echoed through the streets – the glass from the window hiding the Omnics cracking and falling apart. The bullet traveled quickly, piercing the air, leaving a trail behind. But within the gizmos of the weapon, an error hid, awaiting to disrupt the meticulously planned assassination. The bullet that was meant to find your head with cruel intent, embarked on a treacherous journey to forever change the course of events.

The bullet hit the side of your carriage, its blast power hitting you and Ramattra in the process. The shock of electricity made your head spin, and you could barely hear the terrified screams and the scrambling of people around you. The pain was almost unbearable, only being able to move due to the adrenaline rushing through your veins, alerting you of danger. Your ears were ringing, and your vision blurred as you tried your best to look at Ramattra – he had to be safe. For your cause, for your people, for you.

The scene quickly alerted the guards, and the omnics that were under Ramattras orders were quick to evacuate the area without being caught. They had no time to ponder what went wrong, they couldn't risk giving away that this was planned by Ramattra. They had to have another chance to get things right. 

Ramattra's systems were also slightly damaged by the shock blast, but no damage to his exterior was present. It took mere seconds for his system to restart, clearing up any errors or mishaps. His optics quickly went towards you, hunched over, holding the carriage for support as you started to hyperventilate from the shock.

He had to do this quickly now.

"Your highness!"

Upon hearing a guard's voice, Ramattra swiftly assumed a protective posture, hunching over as if he were genuinely concerned for your well-being. He placed his hand on your back, simulating a caring gesture, all the while his faceplate fixedly focused on the side of your face as you struggled to endure the waves of pain coursing through your body. The act was a delicate balance of appearing concerned and concealing his true intentions.

Soon enough, there were multiple guards around the carriage – all worried about your safety as they tried to help.

"We should move her to safety, now!" – One of them screamed.

As Ramattra contemplated his options, a sinister thought crossed his mind. He entertained the idea of ending your life when you were alone, using a shock to deceive others into believing it was a result of the blast injuries. However, he quickly discarded this notion, recognizing the risk it posed. The presence of numerous armed guards made it too dangerous for him to attempt anything in the current situation, even in his Nemesis form.

You coughed a small portion of blood. A bad sign for the health of your internal organs.

"Take Ramattra first."

The unexpected words you spoke left the Omnic in a state of disbelief, and to his surprise, the guards swiftly redirected their attention to him. Uncertain of how to react under their watchful gaze, he couldn't bring himself to resist when they promptly ushered him into a nearby building, although he knew he didn't require any assistance. The situation left him feeling perplexed and conflicted, navigating a new realm of emotions that he had never encountered before.

You were clearly in a worse state than him. Why had you so unselfishly requested the attention to be on him? Perhaps, you were stupid. Ramattra mused himself with the thought. But it was vanquished as the weight of your decision set in his system. You were a mere human, capable of dying. Even if Ramattra had suffered damage, it would simply be a change of parts – you couldn't do such a thing.

Then why?

He kept repeating that question, obsessing over the possibilities – trying, fighting, against the possibility that it was that you cared for him. 

Ramattra couldn't explain why or how, but he found himself standing by your side at the hospital bed. Despite the whispers and rumors circulating about his involvement in orchestrating the ordeal, there was no concrete proof linking him to the incident. The weapon used by the Omnics was also capable of being operated by humans, leaving no discernible trail of the perpetrator. There were no camera recordings, no DNA evidence, and no tangible traces, exactly as Ramattra had meticulously planned for months. 

The stark contrast between the current sight of you and his first glimpse was striking. Once adorned in elegant jewelry and luxurious silks, you now appeared as a mere shadow of that former self, draped in bandages and a simple hospital gown. However, amidst this transformation, one thing remained unchanged - the warmth of your kind smile that you had offered him back in the carriage. It held a special place in his memory, a beacon of comfort amidst the changes and uncertainties.

The way you had reached out for his hand and whispered sweet reassurances at him. Apologies for something that was clearly not your fault.

"Do not apologize. I am fine. You should worry about yourself." – Ramattra spoke.

For response, a small giggle escaped your lips. Hand still holding his own as he sat next to your hospital bed. 

"I'll heal. I'm glad you're safe, Ramattra."

The nonchalant manner in which you spoke about your experience, as if you hadn't faced death or endured pain, left Ramattra feeling perplexed. The complexity of emotions swirling within his mechanical system was difficult to decipher. He grappled with identifying the unfamiliar sensation, trying to make sense of the conflicting thoughts and feelings that were surfacing.

Your keen eyes acknowledged the way Ramattra's body was slightly tense, giving away the overthinking and anxiety he was obviously feeling.

"Hey."

His optics met your eyes at the softness of your voice.

"It'll be fine. I know it wasn't you, why would you be here making sure I am alright if it was?" 

The question you posed left him utterly bewildered. It wasn't the meaning of the question that puzzled him, but rather its implications. He had been by your side… ensuring your safety and well-being, even though he had initially intended for your demise to occur. The contradiction in his actions weighed heavily on his mind, creating a turmoil of conflicting emotions within him.

Why was he there?

He couldn't even answer his own question. How could he answer you?

"It doesn't matter what anyone says. We'll show them. We're different."

As you spoke, he found himself grappling with uncertainty, unsure of how to adequately respond to the depth of emotions you conveyed. In a heartfelt attempt to reciprocate the affection you had once shown him, he gently enclosed your hand within his cold, mechanical palms, seeking to offer you the same type of comfort you had bestowed upon him. The surprising realization struck him, but it felt natural, as though the act was destined, a testament to the newfound connection between the two of you.

A small, appreciative smile graced your face as you noticed his gentleness. Deep down, you felt grateful for the way things had unfolded. You would do everything over and over again if it meant earning Ramattra's trust, to ensure he wasn't hurting anymore.

Ramattra and you let the silence hang, somehow, it didn't feel uncomfortable anymore. 

He couldn't help but steal glances your way, watching the way your chest breathed in and out. He was designed with advanced sensors and processing abilities, allowing him to comprehend human emotions and behaviors. Yet, witnessing you laid so vulnerable, he suddenly became acutely aware of the profound susceptibility humans possessed. The realization how fragile you truly were, how he would never truly understand your pain, made Ramattra's chest tighten for the first time ever for a human. 

In the silence, he found solace in your presence. It was as if the once vast gap between you and him had narrowed. In his mind, he ran countless simulations, trying to calculate the best course of action to go forward. But in the end, he understood that there was no real answer, it wasn't about finding the perfect solution – maybe, just maybe, it was just being there for you.

Tenderly, he returned the gesture, gently squeezing your hand, reminiscent of the care you had shown him before. The profound effect of this simple touch surprised him, as it seemed to bridge the gap between Omnic and human, blurring the lines of distinction.  And yet, somehow he felt grateful for the complexity of emotions he was experiencing.

Your injuries, though not highly critical, would require a month-long healing process. However, it was astonishing to him how long it would take your body to recover from a mere blast of shock, a task that he, with his advanced systems, accomplished in mere seconds.

It was inevitable your death. It will come sometime soon.

It should be by his hands.

And yet…

And yet.

[secular-jew]

AN OPEN LETTER TO CRITICS OF ISRAEL AND THE JEWS by Ashley Church

If you recognise yourself in the heading of this letter, it's time that we had an honest conversation.

You know who you are: students, academics, lawyers, politicians, journalists, 'celebrities' and others who have become increasingly vocal in your strident opposition to Israel since the events of October 7. You differ in your backgrounds but you're united in the anger that you feel - an anger that just seems to build with each passing day.

So, let's start by being honest about the root of that anger.

➡️ It isn't really because you believe that Israel is guilty of 'genocide'. The International Court of Justice rejected that claim - but you're still angry.

➡️ Nor is it because you really believe that the death toll in Gaza is too high. You and I both know that the casualty numbers from the Hamas-controlled Gaza Health Ministry are heavily inflated and that the real fatality rate in Gaza is tiny by comparison to other recent conflicts in the region - but you don't care. You're still angry.

➡️ It isn't because you honestly think that the attack of 7 October was 'resistance'. You've seen some of the footage of rape, infanticide and murder by Hamas and (although you hate to admit it) it offends your conscience and shakes your resolve - but it doesn't diminish your anger at Israel and the Jews.

➡️ It isn't even because you really believe that Hamas are the 'good guys' in this conflict. You know that they're not - but you're still angry at Israel and the Jews.

➡️ And while we're being honest, let's acknowledge that your anger toward Israel and the Jews isn't really about the Palestinians, or territory, or human rights. In fact, it isn't really even about Israel.

Your anger is about the Jews.

And it isn't anger. It's hate.

And therein lies the reality of what's playing out around the world. You - and millions of others - hate Jews, and the events of October 7 were little more than an excuse to publicly display that hatred. Some are doing so for the first time; others are simply dusting off an old demon.

And that's the thing - none of this is new. Jew hatred (let's dispense with polite terms like 'antisemitism') has been with us for at least two thousand years and - like the self-bargaining of a drug addict - it continues to find new ways to justify itself to those who are infected by it.

The question is, are you still self-aware enough to recognise that you're under the influence of something evil? Are you capable of understanding that Jew-hatred is (let's be blunt) demonic and exists in a realm beyond rationality and reason?

Ashley church can be reached at

Ashley@nzemail.com

[fancyrat4cotl]

This is part 2.

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They were arguing again. It's a normal occurrence for the five siblings to argue, as they had been for thousands of years. And, this time, it's getting out of control. Ideology differences had always caused a rift between them. Leahy, Hemet, Kallamar, and Shamura may no longer be gods, but they had been granted a kingdom in their old realms as long as they swore to spread The Lamb's new faith.

Lamani is the emperor of Flockhaven, and also owned their very own fifth kingdom on the same grounds where they started their cult. Narinder was not a Monarch like his siblings, but the lead disciple, and Lamani's most trusted advisor. One of his duties was to settle disputes between his siblings, and if he couldn't succeed, Lambani would step in.

To say that Narinder was burdened would be an understatement. He hasn't seen a single glimpse of The Lamb since their… accidental love confession.

He couldn't stop his sibling's aggression and had backed away. Shamura was against fighting, ironic for once being the bishop of war, but their wise words had no effect to sway their family away from fighting.

It's time for Lamani to cease this madness before tensions rise, just like they had always done before.

But they are nowhere to be seen.

Narinder feverishly roamed the palace grounds for hours on end every single day for the past month, while pondering what Lamani had said to him that fateful night.

"I… Love you-"

That was what they had whispered in their silky, hushed voice. He felt sick, nauseated, even. The walls around his heart may have fallen, but it was still bound in chains, constricting tighter with each beat, threatening to cease his pulse. Each time his mind crosses the thought of reciprocation, violent flashbacks of his siblings imprisoning him haunt his conscience. But worst of all, Lamani's betrayal sent him over the edge, challenging him and usurping his crown.

He couldn't love them. He won't.

Fear held him in a chokehold, afraid to love with the lingering paranoia of getting betrayed yet again. He won't get hurt if he ignored his longing, no matter how much it ached. There was no time for that nonsense, anyways. His priority was to find Lamani. War was creeping in the minds of all the citizens.

Where could they be? Narinder's mind raced with impulsive thoughts, each one amplifying his anxiety even further. You're not a fool, not anymore. Think. Where did they hide when they were stressed? With trembling breaths and aching lungs, he combed through their throne room, private quarters, the confessions booths, and every shadowy corner of the churches he visited. But as the days passed by, his desperation only grew. Not even the darkest recesses of the cathedral yielded any sign of them. The shadows didn't take on a familiar shape anymore.

In the depths of his memory, there lingered one last location Lamani would be. The ruins lay far beyond the borders of the empire, forgotten about for nearly a thousand years. But to reach them, Narinder would first have to navigate through one of the four territories controlled by his siblings.

He thought approaching Shamura in Silk Cradle might be the best way to go, but Shamura's paranoia has caused them to set up a brutal defense, barricading each and every entrance to their kingdom with traps and guards. If war should break out, they plan to defend their people with everything they have. They knew of war and what it could bring.

Kallamar, Heket, and Leshy were the main primary instigators, their voices clashed in a deadly debate over rather mysterious motives. Narinder sensed a deeper conflict at play, one fueled not by mere material desires, but by ideologies. What hidden beliefs were driving their discord? He could only guess, since he was unable to fully realize the conflict before giving up.

With every step closer to Pilgrim's Passage, the salty scent of the ocean filled his nostrils as the wind brushed his whiskers. The shoreline was quite beautiful underneath the storm clouds.

He could see them. Two figures in the dim, mid-day light at the very edge of the pier. Three-and-a-half eyes met his own as he approached.

"My lord, is that you?"

"We heard The Lamb had gone missing! Are you okay?"

"I require a boat. It's imperative that I go beyond and around the empire's territory to reach my destination. Fortunately, you two arrived, just like you do at the beginning of every season. I've been waiting a full month for this." Narinder brushed aside their questions and concerns. He needed to focus.

Aym and Baal exchanged tense glances, a silent agreement passing between them as they moved aside, allowing Narinder to pass. The sunlight behind the clouds shone an eerie glow over the modest sailboat, its silhouette promising both salvation and danger.

At the edge of the pier, Narinder hesitated as his heart began pounding with uncertainty. Each moment he lingered intensified the burning sensation in his chest, a relentless reminder of his constant inner turmoil.

Unable to bear the agony any longer, Narinder whirled around, his actions guided by instinct rather than reason. His body moved on its one as he enveloped Aym and Baal in a tight, unexpected embrace. Though baffled by the inexplicable sensation, he welcomed the temporary relief as the flames within him momentarily died.

Aym and Baal initially recoiled in surprise as Narinder sweeped them into his arms, their bodies tensed with confusion. They exchange bewildered looks, uncertainty flickering on their muzzles as they struggle to comprehend the sudden intimacy.

"Whoa, my lord, what's going on?" Aym stammers, attempting to break free from the unexpected embrace.

"Yeah, this isn't like you!" Baal adds, his voice laced with unease.

But as Narinder held them tighter, his desperation palpable in the air, Aym and Baal's resistance gradually softened, as if sensing the depth of his turmoil, they relent, returning the embrace with hesitant but genuine warmth. Slowly, the initial surprise gives way to acceptance as they stand together, united for the first time in centuries.

And there he was, disembarking to one of the last remaining strongholds of the old faith: Mystland. As the tide carried the vessel away, he could see the two black cats waving vigorously and chasing him along the shoreline, only stopping once the trees blocked their view.

His spirit felt a tad lighter now, like four little feet stomped out the fire in his chest and pulled back the chains surrounding his heart.

His hand rested just below his collarbone as thunder rolled overhead.

[sunflowersandcherryblossoms]

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He could have prevented it if wanted to... But if he did, then the boy wouldn't come to them, would he?

Stay with the Soul Realm, let the Soul Society get ravaged and even sacrifice the Shinigami if necessary...

The fact that the Kuchiki siblings and the red headed idiot had lost their fights became the perfect hook, line and sinker to draw Kurosaki to Squad Zero's hands.

Afterwards? Easy...

Keep them apart from the young man, force him on the path where against his belief, they were actually preparing him for the slaughter.

A nice little fat pig to deliver onto Yhwach.

All the while Ichibei would sink his claws on Ichigo's soul, linking his own conscience to him.

Granting him immortality through Ichigo...

"Call my name..."

Open the channel from which I can feed on your life gifting powers.

Be the anchor for me while I can use you.

They would all die and Ichibei couldn't care about it whatsoever.

In the end Kurosaki Ichigo would be imprisoned inside that crystal, feeding Ichibei. Giving him power beyond his imagination.

And if he accidentally won? Well... In the end he would, sooner or later, end up here just the same.

And Ichibei would feed on the young man and his powers.